(The following is taken from The Red River Trails -Oxcart Routes Between St. Paul and the Selkirk Settlement 1820- ~ by Rhoda R. Oilman, Carolyn Oilman and Deborah M. Stultz, published by the Minnesota Historical Society, 1979. )

The Old Crossing of the Red Lake River was a place of some importance in Minnesota history. Claimed by both the Dakota (Sioux) and the Ojibway (Chippewa), the valley of the Red Lake River was a perilous region where an attack was always expected and often delivered. At least one group of travelers was requested by its metis guides not to fire any guns within 10 or 12 miles of the river so as not to "attract the attention of any stray parties of Sioux who might possibly be within hearing." In the 1850s Joe Rolette built a trading house at the Old Crossing and proposed to found a "magnificent city" to be called Douglas. A compliant state legislature, of which Rolette was a member, designated the townsite as the seat of Polk County in 1858, cooly ignoring the fact that the land belonged to the Ojibway. But the tribe balked, refusing to let Rolette operate a ferry there, and his plan was stillborn.

The Old Crossing was a habitual camping spot despite its location in a war zone. From the river bluff on the north side, where Red Lake County Road 104 (now County Road 3) climbs the hill, the trail commanded a beautiful view of the stream and "La Grande Prairie -a treeless waste stretching out before us until lost in the distance." The "thick groves of Oak, Poplar, Elm, Whitewood, and Ironwood" through which the trail wound down to the ford provided all the firewood a party could want. Despite the beauty of the surroundings, one wayfarer probably did not sleep well, for" All night long the wolves made doleful music in the wood on the other side of the. river" while the "stream rolled on in heavy flood a few yards below the willows that sheltered our tents, and as I watched its swift and turbid current, I could not but wish that everything were safe across. " (Note: wolves have recently returned to this area.)

Getting over the Red Lake River could be a difficult undertaking at any time of year. A well-equipped party in 1857 had no problems, they sent their baggage across in two small canoes, swam their horses, and hauled their carts across with ropes. But those who made the attempt in high water and without canoes had to make careful preparations. "We emptied the cart," wrote a journalist in 1859, "laid bars on top, piled our goods and chattels upon them, weighting the upper side so that the current might not tip the cart over, and, one of us standing upon the same side, with (our horse) harnessed between the shafts, we entered the water."

But once in the water, the difficulties had only begun. To those who did not know "the secret of the ford," the crossing might well prove disastrous. A Canadian traveler described his puzzlement at seeing "the deep tracks of loaded carts (going) straight over the gravel shore and into the water" with similar tracks leading out directly opposite on the far side -yet in between the river was far too deep to ford. After several hours of effort, he at last discovered the key: "the carts had indeed entered straight into the water at the foot of the sloping bank we had descended, but, once in, they had turned upstream to make the crossing in a horse shoe fashion which brought them out directly on the opposite side, where again a sloping bank formed the best path for ascent and descent." Even this method of crossing was impossible when the water was high. "In spring the river is at least twenty feet deep here," one passerby noted; "at this season cattle are made to swim over and vehicles are rafted across." Rolette's ferry would have been a welcomed convenience.