Treasure City, Royalton, Minnesota

How do I begin to describe the joy Treasure City has brought to my life? For those of you who have never heard of the place, Treasure City is a classic American tourist trap located on what used to be the main artery out of Minneapolis into the wild northern reaches of Minnesota. Highway 10 is to Minnesota what Route 66 is to the U.S. Besides Treasure City, Highway 10 brings you partway to Paul Bunyan Land, home of Paul and Babe, the Blue Ox. It was also the home of the amazing, but semi-retired, Flying Wallendas until they moved to Florida. It cuts through Little Falls, boyhood home of Charles Lindberg. Little falls also boasts the now gone but never forgotten, Smuda Zoo. But unquestionably the most amazing place along Highway 10 still is Treasure City.

As a boy I used to ride the bus to camp. We drove by Treasure City but never, ever stopped. I had dreams of the place. I was entranced by the 200 pound man-eating clam at the front door. Real pirate treasure chests could be seen just inside. Sometimes you could make out other trinkets if the bus driver was in the right lane and was following a tractor. On the way home we’d stop at Dairy Queen but never at Treasure City. What did the bus driver know about this place we didn’t? Could you get mummified monkey hands? What about real Indian scalps? Or perhaps a shark’s eyeball? What could be so forbidden about the place?

When we started going to family camp, I begged my parents to stop. But they too knew what the bus driver did and kept driving. I would later find out that if you bring a child into Treasure City you’ll be there at least two hours.

When I got my own car, and was employed by the camp, I became a frequent visitor. I quickly acquainted myself with the store manager, Florence Ziwicki. When we needed cheap prizes at camp, I would get Florence to sign stacks and stacks of 10-cent postcards. It was very irritating to her but I kept doing it. The kids went crazy for them. Imagine having a Treasure City postcard signed by Florence Zwicki!

Years after I left camp, a guy I mentor left California and ended up in Minnesota. I told him of the wonders of the northland and he brought his family to Treasure City. He brought in his video camera just in case something great happened. He quickly found Florence and he asked her to greet me. She was happy to oblige. “Hello Scott,” she said with gusto. Then under her breath she muttered, “Who ever the hell you are!” I about peed my pants laughing. I used to irritate her so much signing those postcards I thought for sure she’d remember me. But I guess she sees a lot of folks more memorable than me.

This past summer we made the trek to LBBC and my wife and I decided to make the stop at Treasure City. I brought my camera hoping to pose with Florence. I asked where she was, hoping no tragedy struck her. I was informed by the owner, Bob Janski, she was away on medical leave but was returning to work after a long absence later that afternoon. Unfortunately, we couldn’t stay to welcome her back. Another opportunity missed.

So we wandered and took pictures. Please look at my album for some lively commentary. And here you’ll find a video the local news did on the place. Check out this video, too. And here you’ll find their website. If you’re ever in the neighborhood, you can’t pass by without stopping. It’s north of St. Cloud in Royalton on the north side of town. When you stop, greet Florence for me. She won’t remember me but you might get her to cuss.