On a Minnesota thrifting road trip, the journey is as priceless as the finds

As we headed north from the Twin Cities on a weekday afternoon, the open road delivered what we needed as if we’d placed an order.

The traffic was light and the conversation easy, with singalongs inspired by the playlist that Vera, my 12-year-old, compiled for the occasion. A coffee shop appeared when the urge struck. We ranked current pop stars, then fast-food options, arguing our cases with conviction.

And we voiced our dream finds for our thrift trip: a cream cable-knit sweater for Vera, and comfortable workout shorts for me. We pulled into our first official stop — a Family Pathways in Ham Lake, 30 miles from home — and began flipping through hangers with intention.

We remained open to anything, because therein lies the magic. I’ve never once put “handmade ceramic baked potato-shaped serving dish” on my list, but lucky me; one found its way into my thrift store cart, and my kitchen display shelf, last summer.

Surprises aren’t limited to store shelves. Farm stands, restaurants, scenic hikes — you never know what charms you’ll stumble upon as you make your way from shop to shop on a Minnesota thrift trip.

I am a longtime thrift addict. I not only visit flea markets and secondhand stores when I travel, but I’ve been building trips around the hunt my entire adult life. Once a friend and I drove a borrowed van on a loop through middle America, spilling out after two weeks with bag after bag bearing thrifted treasures from as far away as Arkansas and Tennessee.

Whereas my love began as an affordable way to stock my closet with grunge-era flannels and broken-in 501s, thrifting is also a unique and eco-friendly counterbalance to today’s TikTok fast-fashion fads. Vera is all in.

I’ve found that some light planning creates a nice framework on which to hang a trip. My two key steps when creating a thrift-centric road trip:

Customize the destination. For overnights, I prefer towns within an hour or two, which allows for lingering. I look for one with a thrift store or two, plus an intriguing restaurant and a decent hotel with a hot tub. You might pin your destination on a festival, concert, bike trail or bakery, for example.

Research thrift shops along the route. To create a loop, I plug my destination into Google Maps. After picking a route, I click on Start, then “Search along route,” and type in “thrift stores.” The more the better. Bonus if they’re supporting essential community services, like many one-off shops or Family Pathways’ local chain. I zero in on a couple of shops, then check their hours. It’s a bummer to show up to a place only to see it closes early on Fridays.

Overall, we approach the trip as we do the hunt: with a few hopeful goals, yet open to ceramic potatoes. And by ceramic potatoes I mean whims.

Last fall, we homed in on Cambridge, an east-central Minnesota railroad town about 15 miles west of I-35. We enjoyed a seasonal, elevated-Midwestern dinner at Leader, a former department store turned restaurant and boutique. We walked a block to the little GTI movie theater, where two tickets plus concessions cost just over $20. There’s one hotel in town, a renovated GrandStay Hotel & Suites, with a wood-paneled pool area including a spacious hot tub. We loved it all so much we decided on a repeat this year.

When we pulled into town, we prioritized Shalom Thrift Shop since it closed at 4 p.m. Next it was Cool Junk, right next door, and then the Goodwill across the road. The day’s haul included an on-trend chocolate brown bodysuit, an NWT (thriftspeak for “new with tags”) pink swimsuit, a vintage Aeropostale sweatshirt and fleece Spiderman onesie for Vera; a couple of basic sweaters, a set of vintage drinking glasses and a faceted red vase for me.

It was already early evening by the time we checked in, so we hurried out to Leader. Dinner was lovely — beet salad with pan-seared salmon for me; and a smash burger, with fries and a little single-serve glass ketchup bottle, for fancy dipping, for V. We decided to skip the movie theater in favor of hot tub and “Gilmore Girls” at the hotel, and discussed the next day’s plans over dessert. Our finds so far were solid, but the hunt felt far from over. “It’s OK,” Vera said. “Day two is when it goes down.”

In the morning, we checked off our final Cambridge store, a Family Pathways where we nabbed a gray thermal shirt, an ‘80s plaid flannel skirt and a Mickey Mouse sweater. The store shares a parking lot with City Center Market co-op, a buzzing hotspot with a deli and coffee shop. We fueled up for the afternoon.

The region’s many thrift shops made for a meandering route home. First we went north to tiny Braham, one of those towns you slow down to drive through, to stop and browse the nostalgic bargains at Tusen Tack Thrift Store. (Tusen tack means “a thousand thanks” in Swedish.)

Next up was the Family Pathways along Hinckley’s main drag, which I’ve found reliably fruitful over literal decades.

Then it was Pine City, a longtime favorite because its Family Pathways is next to a true ‘50s-era A&W, where they’ll deliver onion rings and frosty mugs of root beer on a tray that clips to your car window. We finally timed it right to pop into the neighboring New Horizon Thrift Store, which closes early most days. All in all, a fine finale.

My accumulated highlights included an ‘80s giftwrap variety pack, a vintage animal-print Kate Spade purse and a pair of bright green Nike workout shorts — not for me, but a direct hit for my son. Vera’s included an oversized camo T-shirt, faux leather jacket and multiple cozy sweaters, though none of them cream or cable-knit.

It’s as if the thrift gods heard us, but got distracted as they delivered. We’re not complaining. If you count treasures found plus memories made, the trip was a total score.