Saint Paul By Bike

September 1, 2025

West End, Downtown, West Side

22 Miles

The West End

The West End never fails to offer a unique, often quirky, object or two to behold. To be clear, this is a complement to the artists and other creative types living and working in the West End. On this ride, said item was a giant orange snail camped out in the corner of the backyard of 301 Daly Street.

Still in the West End, a new or newly remodeled garage at 118 Douglas Street offered the next photo op. What stood out about the two car garage was the fact both bays are numbered, and not just once.

Continuing toward Downtown, I quickly passed the historic and always enchanting Irvine Park, stopping just long enough for a photo of the fabulous fountain.

The Exchange Street Viaduct

One of Saint Paul’s delightfully eccentric roads is Exchange Street, specifically the portion between Eagle Street/Parkway and Kellogg Boulevard. Riding (or driving) up Exchange Street, one literally pops up into Downtown through what is sometimes affectionately called the Rabbit Hole.

Rumblings about improving and widening what was then Third Street were heard starting in the late 1800s, though nothing came of them. At that time, Third Street was a crowded, narrow street with buildings on both the north and south sides of the bustling thoroughfare.

A 1922 document entitled Plan of St. Paul considered the growth of local, county and state government buildings in the city. Among the problems mentioned was the narrow streets that hampered traffic moving about Downtown. Widening Third Street was part of that discussion.

It took years to find funding for the project. Construction finally began in 1935 and was completed in less than a year. The result was the Exchange Street tunnel and a widened Third Street parkway and the removal of buildings on the south side of the street. Third Street was also rechristened Kellogg Boulevard to honor Frank B. Kellogg, a former U.S. Senator, Secretary of State, 1929 Nobel Peace Prize winner and Saint Paul native.

Once again, it’s time to replace the 90-year old Exchange viaduct and the section of Kellogg Boulevard above it. In fact, plans have been drawn up. The upgrade is quite overdue—the current tunnel and road have exceeded their projected lifespan by 15 years. The project website indicates preliminary plans were supposed to be (and may have been) completed in 2022, with construction beginning “as soon as funding became available.” One of the best elements in the proposal is a shared pedestrian and bike trail through the Exchange Street viaduct connecting the Sam Morgan Regional Trail (parallel to Shepard Road) to the Capital City Bikeway on Kellogg Boulevard,

Raspberry/Navy/Raspberry Island

Moving through Downtown along Kellogg Boulevard to Wabasha Street, I glided my bike south along the bridge and over the Mississippi. A couple turns and I’d arrived at Raspberry Island, a lovely emerald green, surrounded by khaki-tinted boulders where the river and island met. The island featured much more color than usual, which was why I was there. More on that shortly, after a historical peek at the island.

Before Saint Paul became a town, before bridges spanned the Mississippi connecting Downtown to the West Side, before Fort Snelling, even before the first Europeans ventured here, Indigenous peoples roamed the forests, prairies, cliffs and valleys of what would become Minnesota and the Capitol City, including Raspberry Island. Not until the mid-1800’s was an English name even attached to the Island.

J. Fletcher Williams, Secretary of the Minnesota Historical Society, in 1876 wrote in “A history of the city of Saint Paul, and of the county of Ramsey, Minnesota,” “The scenery, before the hand of the white man marred. wild, quiet beauty, must have been picturesque in the extreme. Then the bluffs were crowned with majestic trees, and the bottom lands above and below and opposite the city, were a dense jungle, where the primeval forests* grew in unchecked luxuriance.“ (This despite Williams’ numerous disparaging remarks about Native Americans in the book.)

Surrounded by the Mississippi River, the 2-acre Raspberry Island is the only true island on Saint Paul’s 17 mile stretch of the river. In 1870, the rowing frenzy spreading throughout the country came to Saint Paul. It prompted 10 men to establish the Minnesota Boat Club on the island.

The almond colored stucco Spanish-style boathouse standing today on Raspberry Island was built for the Minnesota Boat Club for about $26,000 in 1910. At the time it was said to be one of the best rowing boathouses in the country, according to the National Register of Historic Places nomination form for the building. The building is owned and used by the MBC to this day.

The Navy takes over the island

The late 1940s brought great change to Raspberry Island. The U.S. Navy proposed and later built a reserve training center on the eastern two-thirds of the island. Naval officials insistently pushed the City to rename it Navy Island, which it did in 1948.

The training center was completed in 1949 and officially commissioned on April 12, 1950.

At one time, Navy officials seriously considered stationing a submarine at Navy Island. As interesting as that would have been, it appears the Navy ultimately decided against it.

When the Navy’s 20-year lease ended in 1968, the training building was demolished, other facilities removed, and the Navy vacated the island. Then Navy Island reverted to the City of Saint Paul.

Likely, Navy/Raspberry Island suffered its greatest indignities during the ‘70s and ‘80s, when it was primarily used as a parking lot for Downtown workers. In the ’90s the island’s value as a natural resource was finally recognized and its prospects improved.

Raspberry Island today

The first major improvement to Raspberry Island—aside from discontinuing commuter parking—was the enchanting glass and metal bandstand commissioned in 2002 by the Schubert Club.

A $5 million redesign and overhaul of the island began in 2007. A significant amount of that involved intensive greening through the addition of some 100 trees, 400 shrubs, and 10,000 plants. A new brick walking path, new benches, lighting, public restrooms and a paved parking lot for visitors were other important and needed upgrades.

The Mississippi’s unpredictable currents and fluctuating water level caused erosion on the island. Limestone riprap was added at the water line around the island to limit the erosion, another part of the renewal.

The Alebrijes visit

The summer of 2025 found some unique, colorful and charming creatures taking up residence on Raspberry Island. The Mexican folk art exhibit titled “Alebrijes: Keepers of the Island” featured 16 paper mâché sculptures, of mythical, hybrid creatures, ranging in size from four to 16 feet in height.

Alebrijes were born in 1936 when notable Mexican artist Pedro Linares became extremely ill, which caused fever dreams of colorful, fanciful animals. After recovering, Linares brought forth the hybrid animals of which he dreamed in the form of paper mâchè sculptures. Little did he know that this would give rise to a new Mexican folk art tradition. Saint Paul’s Raspberry Island was lucky to land this exceptionally bright and playful exhibition.

Not only did the Alebrijes draw loads of people to Raspberry Island, the whimsical and vivid sculptures put smiles on almost everyone who saw them. Considering the success of the Alebrjes, Raspberry Island should be used regularly to host rotating art and cultural exhibitions.

On to the West Side

Riding across the Wabasha Bridge to the West Side, I buzzed around along the river, then back to Wabasha Street and the storied Wabasha Street Caves. Three rare and flashy cars, a 1930-something Chevrolet, a late 1920s Essex and a 1960 Rolls Royce limousine pulled me into the parking lot.

A renovated church

Further exploration of the West Side put me on Congress Avenue East, at the Iglesia Ni Cristo (Church of Christ.) A major renovation turned its tired, austere building to a structure that improved the look of the neighborhood. A special dedication ceremony was held two months after my visit, on November 2.

Iglesia Ni Cristo was founded in 1914 in Manilla the Philippines, and expanded to North America in the 1970s.

The unique public garden

My meandering around the West Side next took me up, up, up about 100 feet to Smith and Cherokee Avenues, across the street from the High Bridge. That’s where the Capitol View Communal Garden and Orchard has sprouted from a formerly scruffy city park of the same name.

Community gardens, each featuring slight differences, are commonplace. The Capitol View Communal Garden and Orchard, I quickly discovered, veers considerably from those. On this visit, I was the only person in the garden and orchard and was quickly charmed by it in so many ways. The mix of crops, herbs and flowers, the bee colonies, the layout of the gardens, the benches and chairs prevalent that encouraged me to sit and enjoy and many other aspects delighted me.

Following my solo exploration of the Capitol View Communal Garden and Orchard, I wanted to know who was behind this enchanting garden. I tracked down a couple of volunteers who agreed to meet with me on the evening of Thursday, September 25.

The return to the communal garden-September 25

About 20 people of all ages were ambling around the communal garden and orchard when I rolled up just before 6 p.m. Palpable excitement, comradery and joy emanated from everyone as I moved through the garden.

The word ‘communal’ in the name offers a big clue about the uniqueness of this West Side garden. Gabe, one of the original garden volunteers, explained. “ This model of communal garden is completely free to harvest, no limit on harvest, and no limit on who can harvest.”

So, rather than individual gardeners getting their own plot to plant and care for, the way most community gardens work, Capitol View could be described as one for all and all for one.

The idea of a communal garden came tangentially from Gabe’s experience with grassroots organizing while at the University of Minnesota. “I was like, ‘Well, if you’re gonna be a community organizer, you have to organize your community.’ So we kind of thought around a project that would use the common denominator of food to strengthen the social fabric of the neighborhood, and ideally build towards something that leads to the improvement of the well-being of the people in our city.”

Sue L is another early volunteer gardener. “ One thing interesting about the West Side is over half the population are renters, and they don’t have access to land. And so, that was another really important piece of why we wanted this…”

Once interested West Siders agreed to start the garden, they needed to get permits from the city. Procuring those for the garden—on a patch of city property—proved interesting. “Convincing the district council (West Side Community Organization) and convincing the city that we’re not gonna just dig a bunch of holes and leave it there was challenging,” Gabe related.

One piece of the documentation that he feels swayed people was a diagram of the proposed garden beds and orchard. “I think if you tell the city, “Yeah, we don’t have a plan. We’re just gonna let everybody do what they wanna do, and it’s all gonna be sweet,’ they’re gonna be like, ‘These guys, no. Nope, they’re not doing anything.’”

Three principles define the organization of the garden and orchard, according to Gabe. The first is unconditional sharing. “ We want you to take as much as you want, because we want more fresh food in the community.”

“Take what you need, help if you can. And that is really what is happening here.”

Sue L., Capitol View Garden and Orchard volunteer

Principle number two, ‘non-hierarchy,’ means that no person or group makes rules or otherwise controls the garden. Anyone who’s interested has a say in decisions made. Each spring, said Gabe, “ We have a couple sessions at the library, Riverview Library, one in Spanish, one in English. And we come up with a giant list of plants that people talk about.” Ginger and pineapples are two of the nontraditional crops that have been planted as a result of the planning sessions.

A few volunteers are known as stewards. While not in charge of anything, they do have, as Gabe explained it, an “elevated sense of responsibility” to a part of the garden. “They will meet to try to fit everything that everybody requested at the meeting into the garden. Then it’s kind of just a jigsaw puzzle of figuring out where stuff goes.”

Sue is a tomato steward. “ If someone new comes in, we can say, ‘Oh, we need weeding here,’ or, ‘The tomatoes need pruning,’ or, ‘They need caging or tying up.’” She added, “ If you’ve ever volunteered, you know, you need a little direction sometimes,”

“ They can come, and as I say, ‘Pick a tomato or pick a weed.’”

Sue L.

‘Non-coerced labor’ is the third guiding principle, explained Gabe. “ We don’t have any paid staff here. We don’t have any requirements to work. We are here because we wanna be here, we wanna grow food, we wanna gather together.”

Another noticeable difference here is the array of fruits, veggies, herbs and trees. Non-native crops have included pineapples, artichokes and sunchokes, also known as Jerusalem artichokes. Gooseberries, currants, and honeyberries are not as well known but grow well here, according to Gabe.

“ People have put an insane, insane amount of work in so many different spheres, from education to specific knowledge of orchard trees. Just so much skill exists in the community and has been so graciously offered to the garden.”

Gabe, Capitol View Garden and Orchard volunteer

Tomatoes, zucchini, scallions, carrots and a couple of varieties of corn are among the crops commonly grown in Minnesota. One kind of corn, stated Gabe, was “ planted by a Guatemalan family who are super, super skilled farmers that planted in a milpa style, which is a very, very old farming technology that involves intercropping corn, beans, squash, fruit trees, pepper plants, tomatillos. So this is corn grown mostly for its leaves, for tamales.”

In the orchard, fruit trees and shrubs like  apple, plum, pear, cherry, hazelnut and serviceberry flourish. Of all of the fruit-baring foliage, only the apple tree is producing a harvestable amount. The others are too young to bear a significant amount fruit.

Plants and trees come from all over. Some are purchased or donated by volunteer gardeners, others through nurseries or farms. One woman who lives in the neighborhood pulled a rhubarb plant from her yard and brought it over. “She was like, ‘Where should I put it?’ And I was like, ‘You pick.’ So there’s rhubarb; Her rhubarb is living its second life over there among the trees,” Gabe said, pointing toward the orchard.

The origin of the hazelnut trees is another example. A garden volunteer knew of a farm tearing out some hazelnut trees. Gabe drove to Northfield to help dig up several trees, brought them back to and transplanted them in the orchard.

So far, he said, the squirrels are the only creatures reaping the rewards of the hazelnuts but they’re hoping that changes as the trees grow larger.

Volunteers strive to make the garden and orchard inviting to all. For instance, notices for events are in created English and Spanish.

Signs posted in the garden identify crops and each includes a pair of QR codes. One takes you to a description of the plant and some details about harvesting and its uses, while the other is a shortcut to sign up for the garden’s newsletter.

Gabe noted they’re developing signs with multiple languages. “ We’re in the early stages of our sign development, but we are going to have translation in Somali, Hmong, and Spanish for all of our signage.”

Thursday work nights usually attract between 15 and 30 people for weeding, harvesting or just visiting. Many drop in for hands-on demonstrations and instruction on the uses of the bounty of the garden.

On this night, herbalist Sharri Keller trained people how to concoct honey oxymel, a traditional medicine made by steeping an herb mix in a blend of honey and vinegar. Following a brief explanation, most everyone created their own oxymel elixir.

 Gabe summarized the communal garden simply. “We want it to be something that’s driven out of the community, and the day that the community stops needing it will be the day that the garden goes back to grass.”

Community is the unifying theme of this ride. It’s unmistakable with the Capitol View Communal Garden. But art—both on a small scale, the orange snail, and with the significantly larger Alebrijes: Keepers of the Island—entices people of many ages and backgrounds to visit, mingle and forge connections.