There is a corner of the Upper Midwest that does not look like the rest of it. Where southern Wisconsin, northeast Iowa, and southeast Minnesota meet, the land rises into steep wooded bluffs and narrow valleys, cut by cold streams and dotted with small farms. It is called the Driftless Area, named for what it lacks: the glaciers that flattened everything around it never reached here, so the old, folded landscape survived. For a slow weekend, it is one of my favorite places to point a car.

It rewards the kind of trip where you do not plan much. The pleasures are small and close together, and the towns are the sort where the best advice comes from whoever is behind the counter at the café.

What the land looks like

The first thing you notice is the shape of it. After hours of flat farmland, the road starts to bend and climb, and suddenly there are ridgelines and overlooks and valleys dropping away on both sides. The bluffs along the Mississippi, on the western edge, give you long views over the river and the islands in it, especially in the low light of early morning and late afternoon.

This is good country for birds and for walking. The mix of woods, water, and open ridge brings in a wide range of species, and the spring and fall movements along the river corridor can be remarkable. Bring binoculars even if you are not a serious birder, because the overlooks make it easy. State parks and natural areas string along the river and back into the valleys, most of them quiet on a weekday.

The towns are the point

Half the reason to come is the small towns. Places like Viroqua, Lanesboro, and Decorah are walkable in an afternoon and full of the things a slow weekend runs on: a good bakery, a bookshop, a brewery in an old building, a Saturday market if your timing is right. The region has a deep streak of small farms and craft food, so the eating is better than the size of these towns would suggest.

For a place to stay, skip the highway chains if you can. The valleys are full of small inns, farm stays, and cabins tucked into the hills, and a night somewhere quiet with a view down a valley is most of what you came for. Book ahead in fall, when the leaf color brings a crowd, and you will have your pick the rest of the year.

When to go

Every season here has its case. Fall is the showpiece, with the bluffs turning color and the air going crisp, and it is also the busiest. Spring brings the migration and the streams running full. Summer is green and warm and good for the water. Even winter has its quiet appeal, with the bare ridges showing the bones of the land and far fewer cars on the back roads.

Getting around

You will want a car. The Driftless is spread out, the best parts are on back roads rather than highways, and there is no transit to speak of once you leave the larger towns. That is part of the appeal, since the driving itself is half the pleasure here, with the road bending along a creek or climbing to a ridge view every few miles. Fill the tank when you can, give yourself more time than the map suggests, and treat wrong turns as part of the trip rather than a problem to fix. A paper map is worth keeping in the glovebox too, since cell coverage drops out in the deeper valleys.

However you time it, give yourself permission to do less than you think you should. This is not a place to rush between sights. It is a place to find one overlook, sit with it for a while, and let the weekend slow to the pace of the valleys. If you are coming for the spring movement in particular, the notes on the weeks before spring migration will tell you what to watch for. And if your tastes run more toward a destination built for a longer stay, the guide to what a resort destination holds beyond the room is a different way to spend a trip.