Skating on Cedar
December 12, 2025

Skating on Cedar
December 12, 2025
Details that shape the experience of Cedar Lake Park.
Cedar Lake Park is not built around facilities or programmed activity. It is shaped by land, water, restoration, and time.
This page highlights specific features across the park — natural systems, design decisions, remnants of history, and small human gestures — that add depth to the experience of being here.
You will find your own details. These offer context for some of them.
Filter by place or theme, and check off what you notice as you go — your list saves to this device, so you can pick up wherever you left off.
Stretching from bluff to bluff, this is the largest urban prairie in the United States. The former rail corridor was reshaped by a landscape architect into rolling landforms with subtle rises, dips, and water-holding basins. These grade changes support diverse plant communities while slowing and filtering stormwater before it reaches the lake. The scale of the prairie — set within a major city — offers a quiet sense of awe.
Downtown Minneapolis and the Kenwood Water Tower rise beyond grasses and sky. Few places place you this close to the urban core while standing within a functioning prairie ecosystem.
Big bluestem, switchgrass, coneflowers, and goldenrod anchor the plant community. Pollinators, songbirds, small mammals, and migrating species rely on this corridor for habitat and movement.
Installed to support nesting species within the prairie landscape. Bluebirds. (More detail to follow.)
An illustrated history beneath the bridge.
Stories of rail lines, industry, and transformation. (See History book, page 63.)
A pause point in a place designed for transit.
Access between Brownie Lake and Cedar Lake for boaters and cross-country skiers.
Near the center, planting forms a double spiral within Cedar Meadows. The gesture is intentional — a pattern that suggests continuity, expansion, and care over time. It anchors the area visually and symbolically as the ecological heart of the park.
A rise in the northeast corner offers rare elevation near the lake. From here, the skyline and surrounding canopy fall away, revealing how much open land has been restored.
Woodland, wet meadow, and shoreline meet here in a layered system shaped by water and time. White aspen stand in a pale copse against darker canopy. Storm-fallen cottonwoods remain in place, slowly returning nutrients to soil and creating structural habitat. Seasonal water gathers in low areas before filtering toward the lake. Emergent plants, grasses, and understory species stabilize soil and build resilience beneath the surface. Wildlife reflects this diversity. Red-winged blackbirds mark the shoreline in spring. Songbirds nest within canopy and brush. Pollinators move through flowering plants in warmer months. Amphibians and small mammals occupy wet edges and fallen logs. What may appear informal is an actively rebuilding ecological network. Walking is encouraged. Biking is not permitted to reduce speed, limit disturbance, and maintain a quiet environment for both wildlife and visitors.
Concrete shoreline steps and fragments of fencing remain from earlier eras. Fencing was installed decades ago to prevent motorcycles from racing through the park. Before restoration, this land functioned as rail yard and industrial storage, and the shoreline supported winter ice harvesting. The Southwest LRT line now runs along the edge — contemporary infrastructure bordering conserved land.
Seasonal feeders draw bright flashes of orange into the canopy each spring.
Small, often hidden expressions left by children and visitors — temporary markers of presence within a living classroom.
Soil and root protection around a heavily traveled tree acknowledges both heavy use and long-term care.
In colder months, a portable sauna anchors a ritual of heat and cold at the shoreline.
Most visitors to East Beach in the School Forest area notice the mudhole long before they understand its story. Just off the beach on the northern side, where a lake intrusion has created an area of mud, is one of the beach's most unique and beloved features. Children delight in sinking their feet into it, adults often rediscover their inner child, and countless visitors leave covered in mud with big smiles and memorable photographs. The mudhole was first noticed during the unusually wet summer of 1983. Rather than seeing it as something to remove or avoid, beach regular Andrew J. Foss embraced it as a unique part of Cedar Lake's character. He cared for the area, kept it free of debris, and became affectionately known as the beach's original “Mudman.” After Andrew Foss passed away in 1992, friends and fellow beachgoers honored his contribution by dedicating the site as the Andrew J. Foss Memorial Mudhole, and together with the Minneapolis Park Board posted a memorial plaque overlooking the spot. The tradition did not end there. Beginning in 1993, Foss' close friend Steve Vasseur quietly assumed the role of Mudman. For more than three decades, Steve continued caring for the mudhole by removing debris and helping preserve one of Cedar Lake's most distinctive traditions. His commitment extends beyond the mud itself — every beach day, Steve recorded attendance, weather conditions, and other observations, creating a remarkable long-term record of beach use. His data has even found its way into local high school classrooms, where students use it to learn statistics and data analysis. The mudhole is a reminder that the places we love are often shaped not only by nature, but by the people who care for them. What might appear to be an ordinary patch of mud is, in fact, part of Cedar Lake's living history — a tradition passed from one steward to another through friendship, dedication, and a deep affection for this special place. The next time you visit East Beach, take a moment to notice the mudhole, and consider experiencing one of Cedar Lake's most enduring traditions.
Burnham features hand-built woven structures that shape portions of the trail experience. They slow movement, frame entry, and stabilize soil in areas vulnerable to erosion — stewardship that works with natural materials rather than against them.
Hills rise and fall beneath a dense canopy. Portions of this area were once used as a city dumping ground for construction debris. That disturbed soil history still influences drainage, rooting depth, and vegetation patterns today.
In 1999, neighbor Linda Jadwin died accidentally. She had lived nearby and deeply loved Cedar Lake Park. Her friends approached the Cedar Lake Park Association about creating a memorial that would both honor Linda and strengthen the park she cherished. Rather than install a plaque alone, a seating area combined with native restoration was proposed. Artist James E. Johnson developed a natural stone spiral design consistent with the park's 1993 Statement of Philosophy and Design Principles and with Linda's values as a citizen, artist, and poet. The memorial was completed in 2001 through a public review process consistent with Minneapolis Park and Recreation Board public art protocol. Funds were raised by Linda's friends, and project management was provided by the Cedar Lake Park Association. The spiral remains both gathering place and restoration gesture — art embedded in landscape.
Designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, this 2,511-square-foot Usonian home overlooks Cedar Lake from Burnham Boulevard. Its low, L-shaped form, marble-faced masonry, and expansive glass were intended to integrate architecture with landscape. The house remains a private residence and is listed on the National Register of Historic Places.
Burnham Woodlands is a walking landscape. Trails are narrow and shaped by terrain. Biking is not permitted in order to preserve slower movement and limit disturbance within this sensitive woodland environment.
Cattails, bulrush, sedges, and rushes anchor the shallow edges. Submerged and floating plants oxygenate the water, while surrounding meadow grasses and flowering species stabilize soil and support pollinators. Together, these layered plant communities filter runoff and create habitat.
Red-winged blackbirds perch on cattails in spring. Ducks and geese move through open water. Frogs rely on seasonal pools. Bees and butterflies feed among flowering plants. Turtles and small mammals are often seen along the edges.
An elevated crossing that allows close viewing of the wetland without disturbing sensitive ground — one of the best vantage points for observing plant life and wildlife activity.
Native shrubs, grasses, and flowering species are being established along the paved loop and in formerly overgrown areas. Increased light and diversified understory growth are beginning to shift how the space feels and functions.
Though not a designated beach, a small point invites wading and quiet water contact.
One of the few open lawn areas in Cedar Lake Park, used for informal play and gathering. Its openness contrasts with the restored woodland edges nearby.
A smooth, paved path provides accessible circulation through the point and offers one of the more navigable hard-surface routes within the park.
A dirt path circles the peninsula, offering an alternative to the Cedar Lake Parkway. The loop reveals interior woodland, shoreline edges, and shifting views of water and skyline — a quieter way to experience the beach landscape.
A narrow trail climbs the spine of the peninsula to its highest point. Before restoration began around 2000, the path was largely hidden by dense buckthorn. Earlier still, this ridge was not connected to the mainland at all. Known as Louise Island, it stood separate until water levels were lowered after 1913, linking it to Cedar Lake. Today the high point overlooks the beach and surrounding water. Because of its popularity and sensitive soils, erosion management efforts are in place to protect the slope and surrounding habitat.
Ecological restoration generated large volumes of cut buckthorn. Rather than remove or burn everything, portions were shaped into structural landscape elements. The Gateway Spiral forms an entry gesture along the trail — a piled and woven installation that echoes the spiral motif found elsewhere in the park.
Shaped as a V, the Winter Weave Wall aligns one axis with winter solstice sunrise and the other with winter solstice sunset. Built from natural materials, it functions both as land art and subtle erosion control.
No details match those filters.
Clear filters