On our first trip into the backcountry we ventured into Theodore Roosevelt National Park. Just outside of Medora, North Dakota is the south unit of the park which is where Roosevelt first came in 1883 to hunt buffalo. He bought a ranch , which he named Maltese Cross Ranch, 8 miles south of Medora. The rough and tumble nature of the place toughened him up and he always stated that, "I would not have been President had it not been for my experience in North Dakota."
It is truly one of the most spectacularly beautiful places I have ever been and we hope that you will enjoy this little snippet of our trip.
As a reminder you can find all of the uploaded clips on the youtube channel, wailerwoo.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Rugby, ND
A quick look at the wonder and excitement that is the geographical center of North America... Rugby, ND. Also posted on our youtube channel, wailerwoo.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Least Visited... New Salem, ND
Production on Least Visited, North Dakota is in full swing. Check by for a look at the dailies, or regularlys for a look at our progress. First up is our stop to milk the world's largest cow, Salem Sue. You may also see this and other videos on our youtube channel, wailerwoo.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
The Half...
The alarm went off at 4:45AM. As worried as I was about oversleeping, nervous energy and anticipation kept me from any meaningful sleep as I lay in bed waiting for the the alarm to ring. After three months of training I was launching into the final preparations before I set off to Cleveland. Oatmeal... check. Coffee... check. Clothes for running in the cold... check. Fresh clothes for the ride home... check.
By 5:30 it is still remarkably dark. Stepping outside the only light was provided by the waxing crescent sitting high above the treetops. I’m on my way, on time, to Strongsville, Ohio to run in my first ever half marathon. It gets rarer as you notch up the years that you find yourself on the cusp of a truly new experience and that is where I find myself as I drive in the dark heading west. My first goal of the day was to arrive an hour before the race started so I could stretch and warm up. I had promised Hyle, running her second half marathon, that it would be in the upper 30’s. I was wrong. Upon arrival it was 14 degrees. Hyle, built like a runner with precious little in the way of an insulating layer, was not to happy that I had missed on the temperature by a mere 20 some odd degrees.
For an hour we stretched, warmed up, caught up and shivered. It was cold. We were dressed for running not standing around in the cold and wind. I was calm and a little nervous as we waited on the starting line. My longest training run was 7.5 miles. A good distance, more then half of what I was getting ready to run but as I waited to start it seemed nowhere in the neighborhood of 13.1 miles. I was cold, nervous, excited and wondering what had I gotten myself into. Looking around at the other runners I am wondering a little bit if I really belong here. All of my training has been by myself. Most of it has been on a track, the one concession to my knee which still periodically lets me know that it had a pretty serious boo-boo. As these doubts begin to sink in, there are some pretty serious looking runners around me, all I want is to stop making small talk and get this thing started.
All the advice I received from friends was pretty consistent and, unintentionally, ignored. Start slow. Don’t get pulled ahead by the pack. Run your own race. Great advice. Great plan. It is a recipe for success. The race starts and Hyle and I are in the middle front of the pack. We are weaving and dodging through and around slower runners, a familiar situation for a youngest child, just trying to keep up. As we approach the first mile I’m feeling pretty good. I’m still running on adrenaline so it does not feel like I’m working too hard. As we pass the timer I slide in close to be sure I hear the time. 7:50. I have managed in the first mile to not even come close running the race I intended. It’s way too fast and if I do not back it down there will be consequences later. I back it off and let Hyle slowly ease ahead. As much as I try to crank down my pace it is hard to let people pass. Not the really fast runners that seem to fly by but the slower ones that slide by almost imperceptibly. I am constantly wondering if I have that slightly faster pace in me and if I could carry it to the finish. The positive of allowing somebody else to pace you is you do not have to think. I look at the heels of the runner I am pacing off of and it is easy to get caught up in their rhythmic motion. The problem with doing this early in the race is that you can find yourself in trouble before you know it.
The course was an up and back, up and back. Relatively flat although there was about a mile section with a slight rise. Head wind going out, tail wind coming back. There were a few icy sections that required cautious, concentrated motion. The 4 mile mark was just after the first turn approaching a water station. 4 miles in, 33 minutes and change. Closer to my goal, but still pretty fast. I was excited to have hit the mark so fast for me but a little concerned whether I could carry for another 9.1 miles. This was the when I really decided to think about my pace. My goal was to run a 9 minute mile and finish in under 2 hours. At this point I had room to spare and felt pretty good. Coming into the halfway point was pretty cool. People were cheering, giving me high fives and ringing cow bells. The timing could not have been better. As I approached the halfway point I had the competing emotions of excitement that I made it halfway and deflation that I was only halfway. I appreciated the surge of adrenaline provided by the spectators who were probably only clapping to keep warm.
As I passed by mile 8 I realized I was now in uncharted territory. This was farther then I had ever run and it was the first time that a wee bit of doubt seeped into my head. I put my ipod on to provide a bit of rhythm, and a bit of distraction. I passed through mile 9 in about 1:20. 40 minutes for the last 4.1 miles, things were starting to hurt. Nothing major, but soreness was creeping in to my calves, my thighs and my feet. I began to focus on little things like my arm swing and how my feet were hitting the ground. I was getting mad that my body hurt and people who I did not think should be passing me were. I needed to refocus. For the next mile and a half or so I let the rhythm take over and everything else go blank. When I hit mile 11 I felt confident that I would run across the finish line but I had no idea whether I would reach my goal. I was letting runners pass but I was not sure yet if I could ratchet up my pace and hang with a slightly faster group. I decided to dig in and latch onto some heels.
As we drew closer to the finish I felt better and worse at the same time. I kept telling myself to ignore the discomfort and suck it up one step at a time. Stay on the heels and don’t think. At mile 12 the finish was figuratively in sight which gave me a little boost. The last 1/3 of a mile was on a narrow, twisty, icy path. My adrenaline surged. All I wanted to do was finish strong. The crowd on both sides of the path was cheering. I was trying to leg it out but there was a lot of ice and I did not want to fall. I was smiling. I was about to cry. I was going to actually do it. About 200 yard from the finish I hear Hyle, then I see her. She is clapping and cheering giving me the final surge that I need. I passed 4 people on the way to the line and finished in 1:57:43. It was almost exactly a 9 minute mile. I finished. I accomplished my goal of under 2 hours. I was feeling pretty raw. Hyle brought me hot chocolate. She told me how proud she was of me. I was proud of her (she nipped me by about 10 minutes) I was proud of myself. I was cold.
In the end it was a phenomenal experience. At the finish I could not imagine running twice that distance and doing a full marathon. This was hard enough and anyone who can finish either a full or half marathon has accomplished something special. 241st out of 444 finishers sounds pretty good.
Two days later... rested... recovered... warm... That marathon does not sound so bad. Stay tuned.
By 5:30 it is still remarkably dark. Stepping outside the only light was provided by the waxing crescent sitting high above the treetops. I’m on my way, on time, to Strongsville, Ohio to run in my first ever half marathon. It gets rarer as you notch up the years that you find yourself on the cusp of a truly new experience and that is where I find myself as I drive in the dark heading west. My first goal of the day was to arrive an hour before the race started so I could stretch and warm up. I had promised Hyle, running her second half marathon, that it would be in the upper 30’s. I was wrong. Upon arrival it was 14 degrees. Hyle, built like a runner with precious little in the way of an insulating layer, was not to happy that I had missed on the temperature by a mere 20 some odd degrees.
For an hour we stretched, warmed up, caught up and shivered. It was cold. We were dressed for running not standing around in the cold and wind. I was calm and a little nervous as we waited on the starting line. My longest training run was 7.5 miles. A good distance, more then half of what I was getting ready to run but as I waited to start it seemed nowhere in the neighborhood of 13.1 miles. I was cold, nervous, excited and wondering what had I gotten myself into. Looking around at the other runners I am wondering a little bit if I really belong here. All of my training has been by myself. Most of it has been on a track, the one concession to my knee which still periodically lets me know that it had a pretty serious boo-boo. As these doubts begin to sink in, there are some pretty serious looking runners around me, all I want is to stop making small talk and get this thing started.
All the advice I received from friends was pretty consistent and, unintentionally, ignored. Start slow. Don’t get pulled ahead by the pack. Run your own race. Great advice. Great plan. It is a recipe for success. The race starts and Hyle and I are in the middle front of the pack. We are weaving and dodging through and around slower runners, a familiar situation for a youngest child, just trying to keep up. As we approach the first mile I’m feeling pretty good. I’m still running on adrenaline so it does not feel like I’m working too hard. As we pass the timer I slide in close to be sure I hear the time. 7:50. I have managed in the first mile to not even come close running the race I intended. It’s way too fast and if I do not back it down there will be consequences later. I back it off and let Hyle slowly ease ahead. As much as I try to crank down my pace it is hard to let people pass. Not the really fast runners that seem to fly by but the slower ones that slide by almost imperceptibly. I am constantly wondering if I have that slightly faster pace in me and if I could carry it to the finish. The positive of allowing somebody else to pace you is you do not have to think. I look at the heels of the runner I am pacing off of and it is easy to get caught up in their rhythmic motion. The problem with doing this early in the race is that you can find yourself in trouble before you know it.
The course was an up and back, up and back. Relatively flat although there was about a mile section with a slight rise. Head wind going out, tail wind coming back. There were a few icy sections that required cautious, concentrated motion. The 4 mile mark was just after the first turn approaching a water station. 4 miles in, 33 minutes and change. Closer to my goal, but still pretty fast. I was excited to have hit the mark so fast for me but a little concerned whether I could carry for another 9.1 miles. This was the when I really decided to think about my pace. My goal was to run a 9 minute mile and finish in under 2 hours. At this point I had room to spare and felt pretty good. Coming into the halfway point was pretty cool. People were cheering, giving me high fives and ringing cow bells. The timing could not have been better. As I approached the halfway point I had the competing emotions of excitement that I made it halfway and deflation that I was only halfway. I appreciated the surge of adrenaline provided by the spectators who were probably only clapping to keep warm.
As I passed by mile 8 I realized I was now in uncharted territory. This was farther then I had ever run and it was the first time that a wee bit of doubt seeped into my head. I put my ipod on to provide a bit of rhythm, and a bit of distraction. I passed through mile 9 in about 1:20. 40 minutes for the last 4.1 miles, things were starting to hurt. Nothing major, but soreness was creeping in to my calves, my thighs and my feet. I began to focus on little things like my arm swing and how my feet were hitting the ground. I was getting mad that my body hurt and people who I did not think should be passing me were. I needed to refocus. For the next mile and a half or so I let the rhythm take over and everything else go blank. When I hit mile 11 I felt confident that I would run across the finish line but I had no idea whether I would reach my goal. I was letting runners pass but I was not sure yet if I could ratchet up my pace and hang with a slightly faster group. I decided to dig in and latch onto some heels.
As we drew closer to the finish I felt better and worse at the same time. I kept telling myself to ignore the discomfort and suck it up one step at a time. Stay on the heels and don’t think. At mile 12 the finish was figuratively in sight which gave me a little boost. The last 1/3 of a mile was on a narrow, twisty, icy path. My adrenaline surged. All I wanted to do was finish strong. The crowd on both sides of the path was cheering. I was trying to leg it out but there was a lot of ice and I did not want to fall. I was smiling. I was about to cry. I was going to actually do it. About 200 yard from the finish I hear Hyle, then I see her. She is clapping and cheering giving me the final surge that I need. I passed 4 people on the way to the line and finished in 1:57:43. It was almost exactly a 9 minute mile. I finished. I accomplished my goal of under 2 hours. I was feeling pretty raw. Hyle brought me hot chocolate. She told me how proud she was of me. I was proud of her (she nipped me by about 10 minutes) I was proud of myself. I was cold.
In the end it was a phenomenal experience. At the finish I could not imagine running twice that distance and doing a full marathon. This was hard enough and anyone who can finish either a full or half marathon has accomplished something special. 241st out of 444 finishers sounds pretty good.
Two days later... rested... recovered... warm... That marathon does not sound so bad. Stay tuned.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
The Films...
The primary purpose of my trip to both conventions was to screen socially relevant documentaries. I did not get to see all eleven, working on the film festival had a nasty way of disrupting my ability to see films, but I was able to see four of them. All different, all worthy. Before I embark on my best Siskel and Ebert while watching the Republican National Convention I noticed something that reminded me of an experience earlier in my career.
You might have noticed all of the “hand painted” signs peppered throughout the arena in St. Paul. I’m sure many people were taken with the passion and effort that went into crafting all of the cute signs such as “Hockey Moms 4 Palin”. Who knew the republicans were such a crafty bunch? Although it is not too much of a stretch to believe that a majority of scrapbookers run to the right. The entire scene reminded me of some of the early X Games when ESPN and the other organizers were worried about how the crowds would present themselves on TV. In the early days the crowds were smaller than today and event producers wanted to ensure that crowd shots had the right “pop”. This led to a project that can only be compared to an FDR depression era works program in size and scale. For days leading up to the actual start of the X games any runner not currently engaged in another activity could be found on the floor of the production coordinator’s office. Armed with poster board, scissors and a variety of writing and drawing materials matched only by a Staples or an Office Depot the young runners created poster after poster. Imagine you have just started your first job with ESPN and you’re thinking you are on your way to Sportscenter. Instead you are on the floor, markers in hand creating cutesy posters the say “Skate or Die” or “Nasti is Nasty”. I can imagine the scene in the bowels of the Xcel Center where young interns, or staffers, have the same compliment of supplies (maybe sponsored by 3M?) and creating similarly themed posters to brighten up the crowd. Your first big job in politics except this war room is sickly different then the one that inspired you in the movie. It really is a fine line between sports and politics. The show is the show.
On to the movies.
Kicking It...
“Kicking It” (www.kickingitthemovie.com) Follows 7 homeless men from around the world as they make their way to the 2006 Homeless Street Soccer World Cup in Cape Town, South Africa. It ranks amongst the best movies that I have seen, drama or documentary, and with the exception of some course language is suitable for a wide range of ages. It is a powerful movies that not only delves into worldwide issues surrounding homelessness but also how different cultures view those who live on the margins of society.
The movie does a wonderful job of presenting issues without being preachy as the thread that holds the movie together are the stories and challenges of the players, coaches and teams on the road to Cape Town. The personal stories are compelling, both coaches and players, and you end up becoming invested in the stories and small victories. The movie balances out both hope and despair and spotlights the challenges of bridging cultural mores in highlighting the need to effectively deal with homelessness. For all of the different circumstances that lead to homelessness (war, drug use, exiting foster care, societal disinterest) many issues are the same. The homeless live on the margins of society. In many cultures they are shunned and shamed, while in others they are simply ignored. Each subject has a compelling personal story and has big mountains to climb often to simply make it to practice. While a few are good soccer players they were mostly chosen for their ability to represent and give a variety of voices to the homeless both in their home countries and around the world.
“Kicking It” is at its best when all of the 48 teams from around the world are in Cape Town. It is the first time in the movie, and probably the first time in the lives of most of the players, that the subjects have a sense of hope and are treated, and viewed, as regular people. The drama both on and off the field in Cape Town is compelling and I found myself pulled deeper into the story and surprised at how much I cared. As the players are challenged both on the field and off you will find your notions about the homeless and homelessness challenged as well.
“Kicking It” premieres on ESPN2 tonight at 9:00PM EDT. If you miss it tonight you can catch it again tomorrow night on ESPN2 at 10:PM EDT.
Up next... “I.O.U.S.A”
You might have noticed all of the “hand painted” signs peppered throughout the arena in St. Paul. I’m sure many people were taken with the passion and effort that went into crafting all of the cute signs such as “Hockey Moms 4 Palin”. Who knew the republicans were such a crafty bunch? Although it is not too much of a stretch to believe that a majority of scrapbookers run to the right. The entire scene reminded me of some of the early X Games when ESPN and the other organizers were worried about how the crowds would present themselves on TV. In the early days the crowds were smaller than today and event producers wanted to ensure that crowd shots had the right “pop”. This led to a project that can only be compared to an FDR depression era works program in size and scale. For days leading up to the actual start of the X games any runner not currently engaged in another activity could be found on the floor of the production coordinator’s office. Armed with poster board, scissors and a variety of writing and drawing materials matched only by a Staples or an Office Depot the young runners created poster after poster. Imagine you have just started your first job with ESPN and you’re thinking you are on your way to Sportscenter. Instead you are on the floor, markers in hand creating cutesy posters the say “Skate or Die” or “Nasti is Nasty”. I can imagine the scene in the bowels of the Xcel Center where young interns, or staffers, have the same compliment of supplies (maybe sponsored by 3M?) and creating similarly themed posters to brighten up the crowd. Your first big job in politics except this war room is sickly different then the one that inspired you in the movie. It really is a fine line between sports and politics. The show is the show.
On to the movies.
Kicking It...
“Kicking It” (www.kickingitthemovie.com) Follows 7 homeless men from around the world as they make their way to the 2006 Homeless Street Soccer World Cup in Cape Town, South Africa. It ranks amongst the best movies that I have seen, drama or documentary, and with the exception of some course language is suitable for a wide range of ages. It is a powerful movies that not only delves into worldwide issues surrounding homelessness but also how different cultures view those who live on the margins of society.
The movie does a wonderful job of presenting issues without being preachy as the thread that holds the movie together are the stories and challenges of the players, coaches and teams on the road to Cape Town. The personal stories are compelling, both coaches and players, and you end up becoming invested in the stories and small victories. The movie balances out both hope and despair and spotlights the challenges of bridging cultural mores in highlighting the need to effectively deal with homelessness. For all of the different circumstances that lead to homelessness (war, drug use, exiting foster care, societal disinterest) many issues are the same. The homeless live on the margins of society. In many cultures they are shunned and shamed, while in others they are simply ignored. Each subject has a compelling personal story and has big mountains to climb often to simply make it to practice. While a few are good soccer players they were mostly chosen for their ability to represent and give a variety of voices to the homeless both in their home countries and around the world.
“Kicking It” is at its best when all of the 48 teams from around the world are in Cape Town. It is the first time in the movie, and probably the first time in the lives of most of the players, that the subjects have a sense of hope and are treated, and viewed, as regular people. The drama both on and off the field in Cape Town is compelling and I found myself pulled deeper into the story and surprised at how much I cared. As the players are challenged both on the field and off you will find your notions about the homeless and homelessness challenged as well.
“Kicking It” premieres on ESPN2 tonight at 9:00PM EDT. If you miss it tonight you can catch it again tomorrow night on ESPN2 at 10:PM EDT.
Up next... “I.O.U.S.A”
One Second...
Our experiences are shaped by little moments. Each one becomes a tile in a mosaic creating different views based on the distance of your perspective. I have been fortunate to participate in a number of big events in my life. While each has provided a vastly different experience, the common thread has been that in the midst of many over the top experiences the journey through each has been defined by the little moments.
A little context is in order... I begin sharing my thoughts, and observations from seat 23A on Frontier Airlines flight 110 from Denver to Minneapolis. This marks the end of a 9 day run working a film festival that premiered at the Democratic National Convention and now moves on to Minneapolis. The IMPACT Film festival, www.impactfilmfestival.org, was created to bring the most relevant social issue documentaries from the past year to the largest gatherings of lawmakers, decision makers and other movers. Each film is followed by a panel discussion intended to generate a dialog with the people who can make a difference. As a side note, in one of those cool moments I am actually carrying all eleven films from Denver to Minneapolis.
It has been a challenge for me to decide where to start. Do I start at the beginning when I continually harassed my good friend Laura Sullivan, who is producing the festival, to include me on the festival team, or do I start with an amazing cab ride with Higgy, and Ethiopian and naturalized citizen who drove me from the airport to the theater and then on to my hotel. Neither... let’s start by beginning with the title.
Over the last 10 days I have had the opportunity to watch films that make me think and feel, pulled off presenting a Nelly concert and sat in a stadium with 79,999 other people participating in a piece of our country’s history while feeling like I was watching a guy who can change the course of our history. Through it all I have been ensconsed in the Washington, D.C. culture that is at the same times both disturbing and disappointing. I do not want to get preachy or seem holier than thou yet the dichotomy between the way they treat people and the way I treat people, and more importantly teach Cooper how to treat people, is vast. To be fair, I have met some wonderful people involved in the Washington machine but I have also had more encounters than I care to relate that were simply marked by impatience and rudeness. I have been disappointed that the people who help shape our policy and decide how are money is spent are curt and rude, and impatient and filled with self-importance. It is a different way of doing business, not my way of doing business. It takes less then one second to say thank you. The value of that small slice of time, that small act of acknowledgment and the impact it has is far out of scale for the time it takes. Seriously... What is so hard about being nice to people?
Arriving in Denver I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Laura and I have been on dueling sabbaticals and when she told me about the festival I offered to help out in any way that I could. Actually, I had to ask her 3 times and there have been a number of moments when I wished I only asked her twice. My main roles have been coordinating transportation for both the filmmakers and the IMPACT crew and producing the Nelly concert, each of which provided their own unique challenges. Along the way I have seen movies that made me cry, made me think, made me mad and made me care. I was amongst the first to arrive at the scene of an accident and provided comfort to a guy with a grotesquely broken ankle who was on the verge of going into shock. I met Ashley Biden and hung with Nelly... at the same time. I have also had the opportunity to interact with people from across a wide spectrum of political thought and social and economic circumstances. I have been inspired and moved more times then I can count, slept too little and eaten too much food that I was unable to connect with its source. It has also been amongst the most valuable and stretching experiences of my life. I have been over-tired, under slept and overwhelmed, but I have always found time to say hello, hold a door and smile. Over the next week or so I will roll out some stories and moments in no particular order and I hope they make you laugh, roll your eyes and make you think. Remember... It takes less then one second to say thank you.
A little context is in order... I begin sharing my thoughts, and observations from seat 23A on Frontier Airlines flight 110 from Denver to Minneapolis. This marks the end of a 9 day run working a film festival that premiered at the Democratic National Convention and now moves on to Minneapolis. The IMPACT Film festival, www.impactfilmfestival.org, was created to bring the most relevant social issue documentaries from the past year to the largest gatherings of lawmakers, decision makers and other movers. Each film is followed by a panel discussion intended to generate a dialog with the people who can make a difference. As a side note, in one of those cool moments I am actually carrying all eleven films from Denver to Minneapolis.
It has been a challenge for me to decide where to start. Do I start at the beginning when I continually harassed my good friend Laura Sullivan, who is producing the festival, to include me on the festival team, or do I start with an amazing cab ride with Higgy, and Ethiopian and naturalized citizen who drove me from the airport to the theater and then on to my hotel. Neither... let’s start by beginning with the title.
Over the last 10 days I have had the opportunity to watch films that make me think and feel, pulled off presenting a Nelly concert and sat in a stadium with 79,999 other people participating in a piece of our country’s history while feeling like I was watching a guy who can change the course of our history. Through it all I have been ensconsed in the Washington, D.C. culture that is at the same times both disturbing and disappointing. I do not want to get preachy or seem holier than thou yet the dichotomy between the way they treat people and the way I treat people, and more importantly teach Cooper how to treat people, is vast. To be fair, I have met some wonderful people involved in the Washington machine but I have also had more encounters than I care to relate that were simply marked by impatience and rudeness. I have been disappointed that the people who help shape our policy and decide how are money is spent are curt and rude, and impatient and filled with self-importance. It is a different way of doing business, not my way of doing business. It takes less then one second to say thank you. The value of that small slice of time, that small act of acknowledgment and the impact it has is far out of scale for the time it takes. Seriously... What is so hard about being nice to people?
Arriving in Denver I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Laura and I have been on dueling sabbaticals and when she told me about the festival I offered to help out in any way that I could. Actually, I had to ask her 3 times and there have been a number of moments when I wished I only asked her twice. My main roles have been coordinating transportation for both the filmmakers and the IMPACT crew and producing the Nelly concert, each of which provided their own unique challenges. Along the way I have seen movies that made me cry, made me think, made me mad and made me care. I was amongst the first to arrive at the scene of an accident and provided comfort to a guy with a grotesquely broken ankle who was on the verge of going into shock. I met Ashley Biden and hung with Nelly... at the same time. I have also had the opportunity to interact with people from across a wide spectrum of political thought and social and economic circumstances. I have been inspired and moved more times then I can count, slept too little and eaten too much food that I was unable to connect with its source. It has also been amongst the most valuable and stretching experiences of my life. I have been over-tired, under slept and overwhelmed, but I have always found time to say hello, hold a door and smile. Over the next week or so I will roll out some stories and moments in no particular order and I hope they make you laugh, roll your eyes and make you think. Remember... It takes less then one second to say thank you.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Big Things
Coop and I have been home for a few weeks and during that time we have had many opportunities to talk about the trip. For some reason people become quite curious when you tell them that you spent 2 weeks exploring the state of North Dakota. It is not an idea that has ever entered into most people’s minds and two questions I get frequently are “why?” and “what’s there?” In many ways the last destination of our trip, except for Scheels, (Side note here - Scheels is a completely over the top sporting goods and outdoor store that really has no direct comparison. If you cannot find it at Scheels you probably cannot find it. People make really long trips for the Scheels experience. Our stop was so that Coop and I could get hats. Much like other states with two big state schools you are either born into or must pick an allegiance. Coop went with the Bison (North Dakota State, in Fargo), which I found odd because of his lack of comfort when the bison got too close in the Badlands. I went with the more established and sophisticated Fighting Sioux of the University of North Dakota, in Grand Forks. We’ll keep you posted on how the new family rivalry develops.), serves as the perfect example for both why we went to North Dakota, and what’s there.
North Dakota has a lot of big things. For a state with such a small population, only Wyoming and Vermont have fewer people, one could make the argument that it has more of the largest things then it deserves. A partial list includes the world’s largest Buffalo (Jamestown), the world’s largest Holstein Cow (New Salem) - apparently the world’s largest cow distinction is broken down by breed and each breed has it world’s largest. Despite minutes and minutes of research I was unable to determine if Salem Sue was the largest of the largest or simply the largest of her breed. - the world’s largest Catfish (Wahpeton), the worlds largest Walleye (Garrison - ironically Garrison, Minnesota also claims the world’s largest Walleye), and the world’s largest Sandhill Crane (Steele, which we drove right by and did not see). It is also home to the largest swingline shovel (a coal mine outside of Bismarck) and the Balken shield might hold the largest known reserves of natural gas and oil. It was not surprise as we sought out the tallest man-made structure in North America, and 2nd tallest in the world, that we found the two tallest structures in North America.
There are two ways to find the tallest structure in North America, which incidentally is a TV mast owned by KVLY a local Fargo station and tops out at 2063 feet. The first is to have rock solid directions and the other is to simply find said structure on the horizon and continue driving while making sure it continues to grow in size. We elected the latter in order to conclude our trip with the same ethos that we began. Pick a direction, have no real plan, let serendipity take over.
Our destination was Blanchard, North Dakota. We headed south on I-29 from Grand Forks with eyes trained on the horizon. Approximately 70 miles into the trip we spy a black stick on the southwest horizon. The tallest tower does not look like much on the horizon but I guess the fact that you can see it from 20 or 30 miles away is pretty impressive. As we exited at exit 109 we noticed that there were actually 2 towers on the horizon that appeared to be pretty close together. Having no real idea what we were looking for we went to the one that appeared closer. It did not seem to be as tall as the other one but since we were on a tower tour Coop and I decided to check it out. After 15 minutes of driving it did not appear that we were going to get closer so we decided to stop and check it out. At the time we did not know that we were looking at the tallest structure in North America, we simply thought it was another pretty tall tower. After a few ooh’s and ahh’s we pressed on to the other tower which we believed was the tallest.
We drove towards Galesburg, 90 degree turn after 90 degree turn until we found ourselves driving down a dirt road towards the tower. As we drove closer the entire structure splayed out in front of us. One more right and we were heading through the soy fields to the base of the tower. The tower is supported by a spider web of guide wires yet with all of the clouds speeding by looked as if it could topple over at any moment. We found out later that the tower had indeed fallen over twice. It was hit by a marine helicopter in the 60’s and fell victim to an ice storm, the same storm that flooded and destroyed Grand Forks, in 1997. When you look straight up the tower you get a sense of vertigo and have a difficult time maintaining balance. To say it is tall really leaves the description short. This was actually the smaller of the two towers at a mere 2060 feet. At the time we simply thought we were mistaken as to the height not realizing that we gave up a little too quickly in our search for number 1. To say the support wires are complex yet another serious understatement. The entire tower experience borders on indescribable but the picture in my mind and the experience will stick with us for a long while.
This being our last stop we had no plan for what was next other then heading to Fargo to get hats and then off to Minneapolis for an early flight home the next morning. Again, serendipity took over. As I was packing up my camera Coop looked down the road and said “Dad, is that guy riding a unicycle?”. I paused from what I was doing (To be honest I felt somewhat uncomfortable with the whole tower visit as we were trespassing on someone’s property and had not sought permission to travel through the property; additionally I was shooting a lot of video and in this day and age if someone had questioned us we might have had some explaining to do. I think I had momentarily forgotten how warm and welcoming everyone had been on our trip and fell victim to some irrational fears.) looked up the road and also saw the guy on the unicycle. It was one more absurd moment that we could not have written but made the trip all the better. How cool is that to run into a farmer on a unicycle while we are sneaking in a visit to yet another amazing piece of the North Dakota landscape.
We paused on our trip down the farmer’s driveway to introduce ourselves and ask him some questions about the tower. He told us the story about the tower falling in 1997 (he bought the farm in 1992), expressed his continued amazement at the magnificent structure in his field, gave us more information about crops in North Dakota then I could ever remember (Including the fact that he was the president of the North Dakota grape grower’s association and knew the owner of the vineyard that we had visited two days earlier) and explained the difficulties of learning how to ride a unicycle. I was struck by how friendly he was. Not a hint of suspicion. I think we could have held him up and asked questions for as long as we wished. When we were getting ready to leave he asked us if we were hungry. I thought that he might be asking us in for lunch. That would have been a kind gesture and a perfect conclusion to the trip but what he offered was even better. He directed us to a restaurant in Galesburg called Rockin’ Rodney’s. Apparently Rodney is somewhat of a legend in this area. He said people came from all around to eat his burgers and steaks and that if we had time we should stop in for lunch. As Coop and I had been in search of the best small town cafe burger, which up to this point had been the Lewis and Clark burger at the Lewis and Clark cafe in Washburn, it was not hard to convince us to stop by for lunch.
Even by North Dakota standards Galesburg is a small town. There are only about four streets,a grain elevator and four commercial buildings. We drove down main street only finding the West Trail Cafe. Thinking we had either missed it or were in the wrong place we stopped at the grain elevator to get directions to Rodney’s place. We were pointed back to West Trail across the street assured that despite the name it was indeed Rockin’ Rodney’s.
Entering the restaurant we were greeted by three people who wanted to know if they could help us. We explained that the farmer, on the unicycle at the tower, had told us of Rodney’s reputation and we would be making a mistake if we did not stop by. I can’t say that it was a chilly reception but it was more like the kind of reception you get when you clearly are not from around here in a place where you do not get too many people who clearly are not from around here. As he does so well and had done many times throughout the trip it was Coop’s presence that broke the ice. He asked for a half and half, the waitress asked him if he meant an Arnold Palmer. Even here they call it an Arnold Palmer. We ordered our drinks and our burgers and waited.
We sat at the table next to what can only be described as the community table. Rodney, the women who worked for him and a local farmer were the only other people in the restaurant. Coop and I talked about our trip, why we had come to ND and how we ended up in Galesburg. What started as an indifferent reception turned into a great conversation about the state, the food, crops and places we should still visit. While we were never invited over to the locals table it did not take long for us to fell like we belonged.
Rodney’s is the kind of place where people come for a meal or a snack when they are taking a break during the day. It is a meeting place and a living newspaper. Anything you need to know about what is going on in the area can be found out here. It is also not a place that sees many outsiders. A number of people came in and sat with the locals while we ate our lunch. The experience was the same with each person who entered. After exchanging pleasantries with the regulars the conversation turned to who Coop and I were. We were not included in this part of the conversation. More appropriately we were made to feel like we were invisible. The conversation went back and forth about who we were, what we were doing here and what they thought of us. We listened to the entire conversation (sitting at the next table we were only 6 or 8 feet away) and when our story had been told and had been accepted as being okay we were then re-included in what was going on. Despite the fact that we had told everyone that this was our last day of our trip we were overwhelmed with places we should visit in this area. Dams, lakes, parks and unique bridges ruled the ever growing list we were given. As great as all of it sounded we were unable to do any of it but it did give us our inspiration for our next trip to North Dakota. By the way, not only did Rodney serve us the best burger we ate in North Dakota, but his burgers rate up there with any that I have ever had.
It was an appropriate end to our trip. A little over the top. A little serendipitous. A little sublime. It was also full of people who through their genuiness and generosity of spirit gave us another fond memory and more reasons to come back.
Here is the inspiration. On our next trip we will begin the journey at Rockin’ Rodney’s. We’ll have burgers and get suggestions as to where we should go next. Part of the suggestion will include the next place where we should eat. We will bounce from cafe to cafe and town to town collecting the next pieces of our itinerary. We were never mislead throughout this trip and wound up with some truly unique experiences. About the only way we could top this adventure is to truly see the state from their eyes through our eyes. We’re not exactly sure when the next one will be, other then soon, but we do know that when we do it it will be another trip to remember.
While the above may seem like a perfectly good conclusion to our story the truth is that there are more stories to be told and a movie to be made. Keep checking back for updates and I will keep updating you onto our progress.
For my soapbox moment I recommend that you take your kids or go with your friends on an adventure. We strayed off the beaten path, often found ourselves misplaced but never truly lost and found an experience that will stick with us for a long time. We discovered relatives (Bob and Susan) and people who graced us with their love of place and a spirit not found in enough places. All you really need is an open mind, some open eyes and a sense of adventure and you can find it too.
Cheers,
JW
North Dakota has a lot of big things. For a state with such a small population, only Wyoming and Vermont have fewer people, one could make the argument that it has more of the largest things then it deserves. A partial list includes the world’s largest Buffalo (Jamestown), the world’s largest Holstein Cow (New Salem) - apparently the world’s largest cow distinction is broken down by breed and each breed has it world’s largest. Despite minutes and minutes of research I was unable to determine if Salem Sue was the largest of the largest or simply the largest of her breed. - the world’s largest Catfish (Wahpeton), the worlds largest Walleye (Garrison - ironically Garrison, Minnesota also claims the world’s largest Walleye), and the world’s largest Sandhill Crane (Steele, which we drove right by and did not see). It is also home to the largest swingline shovel (a coal mine outside of Bismarck) and the Balken shield might hold the largest known reserves of natural gas and oil. It was not surprise as we sought out the tallest man-made structure in North America, and 2nd tallest in the world, that we found the two tallest structures in North America.
There are two ways to find the tallest structure in North America, which incidentally is a TV mast owned by KVLY a local Fargo station and tops out at 2063 feet. The first is to have rock solid directions and the other is to simply find said structure on the horizon and continue driving while making sure it continues to grow in size. We elected the latter in order to conclude our trip with the same ethos that we began. Pick a direction, have no real plan, let serendipity take over.
Our destination was Blanchard, North Dakota. We headed south on I-29 from Grand Forks with eyes trained on the horizon. Approximately 70 miles into the trip we spy a black stick on the southwest horizon. The tallest tower does not look like much on the horizon but I guess the fact that you can see it from 20 or 30 miles away is pretty impressive. As we exited at exit 109 we noticed that there were actually 2 towers on the horizon that appeared to be pretty close together. Having no real idea what we were looking for we went to the one that appeared closer. It did not seem to be as tall as the other one but since we were on a tower tour Coop and I decided to check it out. After 15 minutes of driving it did not appear that we were going to get closer so we decided to stop and check it out. At the time we did not know that we were looking at the tallest structure in North America, we simply thought it was another pretty tall tower. After a few ooh’s and ahh’s we pressed on to the other tower which we believed was the tallest.
We drove towards Galesburg, 90 degree turn after 90 degree turn until we found ourselves driving down a dirt road towards the tower. As we drove closer the entire structure splayed out in front of us. One more right and we were heading through the soy fields to the base of the tower. The tower is supported by a spider web of guide wires yet with all of the clouds speeding by looked as if it could topple over at any moment. We found out later that the tower had indeed fallen over twice. It was hit by a marine helicopter in the 60’s and fell victim to an ice storm, the same storm that flooded and destroyed Grand Forks, in 1997. When you look straight up the tower you get a sense of vertigo and have a difficult time maintaining balance. To say it is tall really leaves the description short. This was actually the smaller of the two towers at a mere 2060 feet. At the time we simply thought we were mistaken as to the height not realizing that we gave up a little too quickly in our search for number 1. To say the support wires are complex yet another serious understatement. The entire tower experience borders on indescribable but the picture in my mind and the experience will stick with us for a long while.
This being our last stop we had no plan for what was next other then heading to Fargo to get hats and then off to Minneapolis for an early flight home the next morning. Again, serendipity took over. As I was packing up my camera Coop looked down the road and said “Dad, is that guy riding a unicycle?”. I paused from what I was doing (To be honest I felt somewhat uncomfortable with the whole tower visit as we were trespassing on someone’s property and had not sought permission to travel through the property; additionally I was shooting a lot of video and in this day and age if someone had questioned us we might have had some explaining to do. I think I had momentarily forgotten how warm and welcoming everyone had been on our trip and fell victim to some irrational fears.) looked up the road and also saw the guy on the unicycle. It was one more absurd moment that we could not have written but made the trip all the better. How cool is that to run into a farmer on a unicycle while we are sneaking in a visit to yet another amazing piece of the North Dakota landscape.
We paused on our trip down the farmer’s driveway to introduce ourselves and ask him some questions about the tower. He told us the story about the tower falling in 1997 (he bought the farm in 1992), expressed his continued amazement at the magnificent structure in his field, gave us more information about crops in North Dakota then I could ever remember (Including the fact that he was the president of the North Dakota grape grower’s association and knew the owner of the vineyard that we had visited two days earlier) and explained the difficulties of learning how to ride a unicycle. I was struck by how friendly he was. Not a hint of suspicion. I think we could have held him up and asked questions for as long as we wished. When we were getting ready to leave he asked us if we were hungry. I thought that he might be asking us in for lunch. That would have been a kind gesture and a perfect conclusion to the trip but what he offered was even better. He directed us to a restaurant in Galesburg called Rockin’ Rodney’s. Apparently Rodney is somewhat of a legend in this area. He said people came from all around to eat his burgers and steaks and that if we had time we should stop in for lunch. As Coop and I had been in search of the best small town cafe burger, which up to this point had been the Lewis and Clark burger at the Lewis and Clark cafe in Washburn, it was not hard to convince us to stop by for lunch.
Even by North Dakota standards Galesburg is a small town. There are only about four streets,a grain elevator and four commercial buildings. We drove down main street only finding the West Trail Cafe. Thinking we had either missed it or were in the wrong place we stopped at the grain elevator to get directions to Rodney’s place. We were pointed back to West Trail across the street assured that despite the name it was indeed Rockin’ Rodney’s.
Entering the restaurant we were greeted by three people who wanted to know if they could help us. We explained that the farmer, on the unicycle at the tower, had told us of Rodney’s reputation and we would be making a mistake if we did not stop by. I can’t say that it was a chilly reception but it was more like the kind of reception you get when you clearly are not from around here in a place where you do not get too many people who clearly are not from around here. As he does so well and had done many times throughout the trip it was Coop’s presence that broke the ice. He asked for a half and half, the waitress asked him if he meant an Arnold Palmer. Even here they call it an Arnold Palmer. We ordered our drinks and our burgers and waited.
We sat at the table next to what can only be described as the community table. Rodney, the women who worked for him and a local farmer were the only other people in the restaurant. Coop and I talked about our trip, why we had come to ND and how we ended up in Galesburg. What started as an indifferent reception turned into a great conversation about the state, the food, crops and places we should still visit. While we were never invited over to the locals table it did not take long for us to fell like we belonged.
Rodney’s is the kind of place where people come for a meal or a snack when they are taking a break during the day. It is a meeting place and a living newspaper. Anything you need to know about what is going on in the area can be found out here. It is also not a place that sees many outsiders. A number of people came in and sat with the locals while we ate our lunch. The experience was the same with each person who entered. After exchanging pleasantries with the regulars the conversation turned to who Coop and I were. We were not included in this part of the conversation. More appropriately we were made to feel like we were invisible. The conversation went back and forth about who we were, what we were doing here and what they thought of us. We listened to the entire conversation (sitting at the next table we were only 6 or 8 feet away) and when our story had been told and had been accepted as being okay we were then re-included in what was going on. Despite the fact that we had told everyone that this was our last day of our trip we were overwhelmed with places we should visit in this area. Dams, lakes, parks and unique bridges ruled the ever growing list we were given. As great as all of it sounded we were unable to do any of it but it did give us our inspiration for our next trip to North Dakota. By the way, not only did Rodney serve us the best burger we ate in North Dakota, but his burgers rate up there with any that I have ever had.
It was an appropriate end to our trip. A little over the top. A little serendipitous. A little sublime. It was also full of people who through their genuiness and generosity of spirit gave us another fond memory and more reasons to come back.
Here is the inspiration. On our next trip we will begin the journey at Rockin’ Rodney’s. We’ll have burgers and get suggestions as to where we should go next. Part of the suggestion will include the next place where we should eat. We will bounce from cafe to cafe and town to town collecting the next pieces of our itinerary. We were never mislead throughout this trip and wound up with some truly unique experiences. About the only way we could top this adventure is to truly see the state from their eyes through our eyes. We’re not exactly sure when the next one will be, other then soon, but we do know that when we do it it will be another trip to remember.
While the above may seem like a perfectly good conclusion to our story the truth is that there are more stories to be told and a movie to be made. Keep checking back for updates and I will keep updating you onto our progress.
For my soapbox moment I recommend that you take your kids or go with your friends on an adventure. We strayed off the beaten path, often found ourselves misplaced but never truly lost and found an experience that will stick with us for a long time. We discovered relatives (Bob and Susan) and people who graced us with their love of place and a spirit not found in enough places. All you really need is an open mind, some open eyes and a sense of adventure and you can find it too.
Cheers,
JW
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Dakota Harvest Bakers - Grand Forks, ND
On our drive from Minot to the Peace Garden I was thanking that if we stopped at every place that I found interesting it would take us a really long time to get anywhere in this state. North Dakota is full of texture, from the drama of the badlands to the pastoral beauty of the rolling prairie to the dichotomy pumping oil wells as a backdrop to long abandoned homesteads. For every sign of demise there are signs of progress and a bright future. This place reeks of optimism which in many ways is understandable when much of your livelihood is derived from the land and often left to the whims of the ever unpredictable and changing weather.
With long drives between places, and Coop working on his ever developing skills as a car sleeper - The latest being that I am sure we had a conversation while he was asleep, I have had many opportunities to reflect on what I have seen and what I am seeing. This is a place with a great respect for it’s past. Nearly every town has some sort of museum that celebrates it origins. Some are small such as the post office museum in Grassy Butte. It is a plaster and wood timber building, barely tall enough to stand in with a sod roof. The amazing thing about it is it was in use until 1962. Some are larger such as the prairie village and museum in Rugby. In a lot of places it appears that everyone is poised for the tourism boom that will be coming at any moment. As you drive on both large roads and small there are an abundance of historical markers. some mark the grave of a homesteader, other mark a legendary crime and still others mark a bluff on a major cattle drive route. It is hard not to appreciate the respect they have for, and the dignity with which, they treat the past here.
A major feature as you drive through farmland and prairie, especially in the central and western parts of the state, are large piles of rocks dotting fields of wheat, or soy beans, or barley or flax. I thought that these were simply cairns built to honor people who had worked this land. As we drove through undeveloped land used as pasture that were littered with rocks I arrived at the answer. Most of North Dakota was covered by glaciers and much of it is a moraine or debris field. Before the fist settlers could even work the fields all of the rocks had to be removed. There are a lot of rocks and this one picture really brought home to me what a challenge it was to create a life here back in the 1800’s.
Something many of the roads in the state lack, and this is a state with some of the best roads that I have ever driven on including the fact that there is no traffic, are frequent highway signs giving the speed limit and what road you are on. They will be found at intersections but quite often intersections are few and far between. I cannot remember exactly where we were but I do remember that we were a long way from anywhere when off in the distance I saw a familiar blue sign. It was an adopt a highway sign and the next three miles were sponsored by a group who’s name I cannot remember. This is one of the cleanest places I have been and I am sure that this 3 mile stretch of road is just a little bit cleaner then the rest of the place.
Still to come... Our trip to the Scandinavian Heritage Center... Playing frisbee over the border at the International Peace Garden and getting stopped by US Customs and Immigration... Standing in the center of the continent... Touring North Dakota’s finest winery... Another Hawley connection... Camping on Devil’s Lake...
Stay tuned.
Posted by JW
With long drives between places, and Coop working on his ever developing skills as a car sleeper - The latest being that I am sure we had a conversation while he was asleep, I have had many opportunities to reflect on what I have seen and what I am seeing. This is a place with a great respect for it’s past. Nearly every town has some sort of museum that celebrates it origins. Some are small such as the post office museum in Grassy Butte. It is a plaster and wood timber building, barely tall enough to stand in with a sod roof. The amazing thing about it is it was in use until 1962. Some are larger such as the prairie village and museum in Rugby. In a lot of places it appears that everyone is poised for the tourism boom that will be coming at any moment. As you drive on both large roads and small there are an abundance of historical markers. some mark the grave of a homesteader, other mark a legendary crime and still others mark a bluff on a major cattle drive route. It is hard not to appreciate the respect they have for, and the dignity with which, they treat the past here.
A major feature as you drive through farmland and prairie, especially in the central and western parts of the state, are large piles of rocks dotting fields of wheat, or soy beans, or barley or flax. I thought that these were simply cairns built to honor people who had worked this land. As we drove through undeveloped land used as pasture that were littered with rocks I arrived at the answer. Most of North Dakota was covered by glaciers and much of it is a moraine or debris field. Before the fist settlers could even work the fields all of the rocks had to be removed. There are a lot of rocks and this one picture really brought home to me what a challenge it was to create a life here back in the 1800’s.
Something many of the roads in the state lack, and this is a state with some of the best roads that I have ever driven on including the fact that there is no traffic, are frequent highway signs giving the speed limit and what road you are on. They will be found at intersections but quite often intersections are few and far between. I cannot remember exactly where we were but I do remember that we were a long way from anywhere when off in the distance I saw a familiar blue sign. It was an adopt a highway sign and the next three miles were sponsored by a group who’s name I cannot remember. This is one of the cleanest places I have been and I am sure that this 3 mile stretch of road is just a little bit cleaner then the rest of the place.
Still to come... Our trip to the Scandinavian Heritage Center... Playing frisbee over the border at the International Peace Garden and getting stopped by US Customs and Immigration... Standing in the center of the continent... Touring North Dakota’s finest winery... Another Hawley connection... Camping on Devil’s Lake...
Stay tuned.
Posted by JW
Things That Are Great About North Dakota
Things that are great about North Dakota:
- The People
- The Landscape
- The Animals
In North Dakota the people are incredibly nice. Everywhere you go, people are nice. People are nice when you are walking by, people are nice at shops, and people are nice just about everywhere.
In North Dakota, the landscape is just amazing. It also changes very much from place to place. In the Badlands, there are canyons and slumps everywhere that are amazing. Even the farming land where it is totally flat, it is amazing. All of the landscape in North Dakota is amazing.
In North Dakota, the animals are amazing. You will everything from a Prairie Rattler, to a herd of Bison. Some animals will let you get super close like the Prairie Dog, and some animals like the Bison want their space. All of the animals in North Dakota are amazing.
Coop
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Minot, ND
After two days in the back-country we are settled back into civilization in Minot, North Dakota. As much as I think that Coop appreciated our time camping in the park he was pretty excited about a hotel with a pool, a decent meal and a movie.
I already miss waking up in a room with a view. Our plan for two consecutive days and nights in the back country hit a small snag when we had difficulty locating the trail and I gave Coop the option of hiking back to the car and heading to Watford City for lunch. As much as I wanted to stay out and explore all day I did not want to turn this adventure into a trek. The option of a burger and fries over trail mix and carrots proved to be too much of a lure. While on our way out we had our adventure of the morning. Coop heard the rattle and yelled “rattle snake” as I turned to see the top 3rd of what appeared to be a two or three foot rattle snake. I said a dad word, the snake hissed and we both skitled away. Lack of sense got the best of me as I began to move in with my camera hoping to get a little rattle snake video until Coop counseled me that it was probably not such a good idea. He was right.
It is hard to adequately describe the Badlands. I could go into the long geological explanation but I did not pay enough attention in geology and am sure I would make numerous errors in my description. From a distance they look like those indian sand art bottles with the layers of dramatic colors. Much of the color is derived from the bluish gray bentonite clay, a red clay, a regular gray clay and sandstone. The prominent feature is called a slump. This happens when water and stream action cause the face of cliffs to be lubricated causing large sections to cut and slump away. from there wind and water erosion take over leading to dramatic, layered formations. As the erosion occurs the clays erode more quickly then the red clay and sandstone. The result is a unique combination of rounded and angular formations. Much of this area was under water for many years, millions of years ago which created the clearly defined layers of color. The red clays were baked by volcanic activity and has the appearance of red brick. The resulting scale is at the same time immense and approachable. Walking up little valleys in the formations allows you an up close look at the result. Meandering streams of erosion end in debris fields that look like a combination of a brick factory junk yard, a science experiment gone wrong and some odd artistic interpretation where baked and rounded sandstone seems impossibly supported by too small clay pillars. From a distance the kaleidoscope of colors is constantly changing with the changing light of day giving you the sense that this harsh place is fully alive.
While I became comfortable with the proximity of our neighbors the Bison, I’m not sure that Coop ever did. He was constantly asking is a certain bison was looking at us and pawing the ground, a sign that they are not happy with your presence. Our first day out in the north unit a herd was on the trail which caused us to take a long detour. serendipity took over, however, and that was what led us to our spot for the night. We found a grassy knoll overlooking the herd, which numbered around 30. Freeze dried sweet and sour pork and rice tastes better in a place like this in the company of bison.
One thing that has surprised me is how late the sun sets. It does not dip behind the hills until 10:15ish and is not fully dark until 11. As we were in sight of an almost full moon it never really got dark and It was nice to be able to peek out of the tent to see the moon’s light reflecting on the formations.
Our second night we headed up a different park of the Buckhorn trail to find a spot to camp above a prairie dog town. If you are a farmer these playful and curious critters are the scourge of the earth. If you are a “tree hugger”, a term that I have only heard used in a positive manner once on the trip, they are a gift to the earth and a great example of a social productive society. They build an elaborate network of burrows living individually unless it is during the spawning season where family units all live in a burrow. In a concept that Coop got a kick out of when the kids are old enough to take care of themselves the parents get kicked out of the burrow and have to build a new place to live. If forced to guess I think that there were upwards of 500 burrows. They communicate with one another with a variety of barks. Barks are warnings, greetings and sometimes just boredom. To call it a bark is a little generous. It is a high pitched birdlike song. when I think bark, I think german shepherd and these are not german shepherds.
Our second night we were also forced divert from the trail because of bison. This led us to what might be the best campsite that we had. We found an overlook about 50 feet above the stream valley and the prairie dog town. It was a flat spot on top of a slump at the base of a cliff surrounded by sage, juniper and prickly pear. On a side note... I remember hearing that prickly pear is good to eat. I would imagine that it is quite painful to eat as well as they are covered in and intricate layer of thorns and barbs. As adventurous as we felt we decided to trust what we have heard about the prickly pear and not add a tasting to our experience... Our vista afforded us a 270 degree view to the north east looking across the valley to the hills on the opposite side and partially up a couple of well developed stream beds. What we could not see was how deep the grazing are of the canyon floor went to our right. This we discovered when Coop motioned down at the bottom of the slope was a large male bison. He was less then 30 yards away and examining our work. We all stood around looking at one another. Actually I grabbed my camera, thinking that the climb up might be a bit aggressive, and Coop began slowly backing away while asking if he was pawing the ground. It appeared that he had come from nowhere, literally growing right out of the ground. He had been grazing up the canyon to our right. After setting up camp we first headed down to the prairie dog town to check out the little critters. They are sort of like a combination of a ferret and a squirrel and do not scare easily. You can get pretty close but when you get too close they scurry back in their burrows.
After the prairie dog town we explored up the canyon. Walking up the stream bed it became easy to see how a lot of this area formed. The streams cut away the loose clays and soil pretty quickly allowing the slumps to form. the harder and longer work happens over time and every rain and windstorm morphs the hills further. We saw lots of red clay debris and despite the fact that there are no advertised petrified forests we saw an abundance of petrified and crystalized wood.
I keep thinking that on this trip Coop and I are going to have some breakthrough conversation, he will ask me some big questions about things he wants to know or there will be some seminal moment when we bond a little further. That may happen, it may not. One of the best moments of the trip was the two of us sitting and looking out over the prairie dogs and bison soaking in the view and the experience. There was nothing to say and nothing that needed to be said. I do not know if he saw or experienced the same as I did. It didn’t matter. Just the two of us enjoying this place. The silence was broken by, “Dad, this is pretty cool.”
Dinner was more dehydrated food, chicken and mashed potatoes which was surprisingly good, in the company two herd of buffalo with the light show provided by a distant thunder storm and the soundtrack coming from the prairie dog village.
More of the same in the morning and for the hike out. Mule deer are pretty wary and if they smell you or hear you they move on pretty quick. The close ones in the morning were down wind and when I exited the tent and began preparing breakfast that scattered. The ones upwind were kind enough to stick around for a while, keeping me company while Coop snored and the sun rose.
That’s it for now. We’re off to the International Peace Garden up on the Canadian border after a visit to the Scandinavian Heritage park here in Minot. After the border it is on to Rugby, the geographic center of North America and then camping and fishing on Devil’s Lake.
More to come, Coop has more pictures and I will have more stories. It continues to be an amazing journey through a place that has provided too many “over the hill” moments to recount, even in the flat expanse of the prairie.
Posted by JW
I already miss waking up in a room with a view. Our plan for two consecutive days and nights in the back country hit a small snag when we had difficulty locating the trail and I gave Coop the option of hiking back to the car and heading to Watford City for lunch. As much as I wanted to stay out and explore all day I did not want to turn this adventure into a trek. The option of a burger and fries over trail mix and carrots proved to be too much of a lure. While on our way out we had our adventure of the morning. Coop heard the rattle and yelled “rattle snake” as I turned to see the top 3rd of what appeared to be a two or three foot rattle snake. I said a dad word, the snake hissed and we both skitled away. Lack of sense got the best of me as I began to move in with my camera hoping to get a little rattle snake video until Coop counseled me that it was probably not such a good idea. He was right.
It is hard to adequately describe the Badlands. I could go into the long geological explanation but I did not pay enough attention in geology and am sure I would make numerous errors in my description. From a distance they look like those indian sand art bottles with the layers of dramatic colors. Much of the color is derived from the bluish gray bentonite clay, a red clay, a regular gray clay and sandstone. The prominent feature is called a slump. This happens when water and stream action cause the face of cliffs to be lubricated causing large sections to cut and slump away. from there wind and water erosion take over leading to dramatic, layered formations. As the erosion occurs the clays erode more quickly then the red clay and sandstone. The result is a unique combination of rounded and angular formations. Much of this area was under water for many years, millions of years ago which created the clearly defined layers of color. The red clays were baked by volcanic activity and has the appearance of red brick. The resulting scale is at the same time immense and approachable. Walking up little valleys in the formations allows you an up close look at the result. Meandering streams of erosion end in debris fields that look like a combination of a brick factory junk yard, a science experiment gone wrong and some odd artistic interpretation where baked and rounded sandstone seems impossibly supported by too small clay pillars. From a distance the kaleidoscope of colors is constantly changing with the changing light of day giving you the sense that this harsh place is fully alive.
While I became comfortable with the proximity of our neighbors the Bison, I’m not sure that Coop ever did. He was constantly asking is a certain bison was looking at us and pawing the ground, a sign that they are not happy with your presence. Our first day out in the north unit a herd was on the trail which caused us to take a long detour. serendipity took over, however, and that was what led us to our spot for the night. We found a grassy knoll overlooking the herd, which numbered around 30. Freeze dried sweet and sour pork and rice tastes better in a place like this in the company of bison.
One thing that has surprised me is how late the sun sets. It does not dip behind the hills until 10:15ish and is not fully dark until 11. As we were in sight of an almost full moon it never really got dark and It was nice to be able to peek out of the tent to see the moon’s light reflecting on the formations.
Our second night we headed up a different park of the Buckhorn trail to find a spot to camp above a prairie dog town. If you are a farmer these playful and curious critters are the scourge of the earth. If you are a “tree hugger”, a term that I have only heard used in a positive manner once on the trip, they are a gift to the earth and a great example of a social productive society. They build an elaborate network of burrows living individually unless it is during the spawning season where family units all live in a burrow. In a concept that Coop got a kick out of when the kids are old enough to take care of themselves the parents get kicked out of the burrow and have to build a new place to live. If forced to guess I think that there were upwards of 500 burrows. They communicate with one another with a variety of barks. Barks are warnings, greetings and sometimes just boredom. To call it a bark is a little generous. It is a high pitched birdlike song. when I think bark, I think german shepherd and these are not german shepherds.
Our second night we were also forced divert from the trail because of bison. This led us to what might be the best campsite that we had. We found an overlook about 50 feet above the stream valley and the prairie dog town. It was a flat spot on top of a slump at the base of a cliff surrounded by sage, juniper and prickly pear. On a side note... I remember hearing that prickly pear is good to eat. I would imagine that it is quite painful to eat as well as they are covered in and intricate layer of thorns and barbs. As adventurous as we felt we decided to trust what we have heard about the prickly pear and not add a tasting to our experience... Our vista afforded us a 270 degree view to the north east looking across the valley to the hills on the opposite side and partially up a couple of well developed stream beds. What we could not see was how deep the grazing are of the canyon floor went to our right. This we discovered when Coop motioned down at the bottom of the slope was a large male bison. He was less then 30 yards away and examining our work. We all stood around looking at one another. Actually I grabbed my camera, thinking that the climb up might be a bit aggressive, and Coop began slowly backing away while asking if he was pawing the ground. It appeared that he had come from nowhere, literally growing right out of the ground. He had been grazing up the canyon to our right. After setting up camp we first headed down to the prairie dog town to check out the little critters. They are sort of like a combination of a ferret and a squirrel and do not scare easily. You can get pretty close but when you get too close they scurry back in their burrows.
After the prairie dog town we explored up the canyon. Walking up the stream bed it became easy to see how a lot of this area formed. The streams cut away the loose clays and soil pretty quickly allowing the slumps to form. the harder and longer work happens over time and every rain and windstorm morphs the hills further. We saw lots of red clay debris and despite the fact that there are no advertised petrified forests we saw an abundance of petrified and crystalized wood.
I keep thinking that on this trip Coop and I are going to have some breakthrough conversation, he will ask me some big questions about things he wants to know or there will be some seminal moment when we bond a little further. That may happen, it may not. One of the best moments of the trip was the two of us sitting and looking out over the prairie dogs and bison soaking in the view and the experience. There was nothing to say and nothing that needed to be said. I do not know if he saw or experienced the same as I did. It didn’t matter. Just the two of us enjoying this place. The silence was broken by, “Dad, this is pretty cool.”
Dinner was more dehydrated food, chicken and mashed potatoes which was surprisingly good, in the company two herd of buffalo with the light show provided by a distant thunder storm and the soundtrack coming from the prairie dog village.
More of the same in the morning and for the hike out. Mule deer are pretty wary and if they smell you or hear you they move on pretty quick. The close ones in the morning were down wind and when I exited the tent and began preparing breakfast that scattered. The ones upwind were kind enough to stick around for a while, keeping me company while Coop snored and the sun rose.
That’s it for now. We’re off to the International Peace Garden up on the Canadian border after a visit to the Scandinavian Heritage park here in Minot. After the border it is on to Rugby, the geographic center of North America and then camping and fishing on Devil’s Lake.
More to come, Coop has more pictures and I will have more stories. It continues to be an amazing journey through a place that has provided too many “over the hill” moments to recount, even in the flat expanse of the prairie.
Posted by JW
Scenic Badlands Vistas
Pictures of scenic vistas in the Badlands.
Pictures of scenic vistas in the Badlands.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Over the hill moments...
This trip has been full of what we are now calling “over the hill moments”. There have been so many times when we crest a hill and what lies ahead simply takes your breath away. Sometimes it is a stunning vista, of which there are many in the Badlands, other times it might simply be the next big town or the endless expanse of prairie and grassland. We had taken to calling them something else, but that phrase is not appropriate for a mixed audience.
We are currently sitting outside the Roosevelt Inn and suites in Watford City. which is about 15 miles to the north of the Theodore Roosevelt National Park North Unit. Last night was our first night on the trail, in the south unit. Aside from the bugs, which were quite remarkable, it was stunning. We saw our first buffalo, ate breakfast under the watchful gaze of a mule deer, protected from above by a hawk soaring on the currents floating off of the buttes and were entertained by the sights and sounds of the playful prairie dogs. Our little camp at the point of a ridge provided a nice base camp for exploring. We discovered a small petrified forest and felt like we had the world to ourselves. On the drive up we encountered a group of pronghorn antelope in the national grasslands and now eagerly await our two day trip into the north unit where we hear that there is a herd of over 200 buffalo still wandering together.
A note on Coop. I am pretty sure that he is having a great time. His car sleeping skills continue to improve and I am enjoying watching him fall asleep. The rhythmic bobbing of his head as we roll through the prairie provides a nice distraction to the endless expanse of grassland and the dramatic vistas of the badlands.
We have seen big towns and small and acres upon acres of wheat. It’s true that there are many small and dying towns but this is a place full of life and history. The people who call North Dakota home are truly the friendliest I have encountered on my many trips and they have a profound appreciation for where they are. In some ways I think they like that this place and their lifestyle is their little secret but they appreciate that we have chosen to take the time to find out the many things they think are wonderful about their state. We will run out of town before we run out of places to see and things that both amaze us and provide little moments of serendipity.
The stark contrast here is between the old and the new. For every old farm, or homestead, that is slowly being retaken by the land there is an oil well (ND is the 8th largest producer of oil, soon to become the 7th), a coal mine or a wind farm. Susan described it to me as energy rich and people poor. The other prominent feature of the landscape are the high tension power lines that ship the majority of ND’s energy to place like the twin cities which are people rich and energy poor.
I’m still falling behind on stories to tell and fall a little further each day.There is so much to do, so many places to get to and so many experiences (both big and small) to have and that we’ve had that it has been difficult to keep up with them all, but I am keeping notes.
It’s back out on the trail to be awed a little more. When we return from the backcountry we head north to Williston, the heart of North Dakota gas country and then we head east. We know we will hit Rugby, the geographic center of North America, other then that it is whatever the road, and this state, have to offer. If the past is any guide we are sure to have many more “over the hill” moments.
Cheers,
Posted by JW
We are currently sitting outside the Roosevelt Inn and suites in Watford City. which is about 15 miles to the north of the Theodore Roosevelt National Park North Unit. Last night was our first night on the trail, in the south unit. Aside from the bugs, which were quite remarkable, it was stunning. We saw our first buffalo, ate breakfast under the watchful gaze of a mule deer, protected from above by a hawk soaring on the currents floating off of the buttes and were entertained by the sights and sounds of the playful prairie dogs. Our little camp at the point of a ridge provided a nice base camp for exploring. We discovered a small petrified forest and felt like we had the world to ourselves. On the drive up we encountered a group of pronghorn antelope in the national grasslands and now eagerly await our two day trip into the north unit where we hear that there is a herd of over 200 buffalo still wandering together.
A note on Coop. I am pretty sure that he is having a great time. His car sleeping skills continue to improve and I am enjoying watching him fall asleep. The rhythmic bobbing of his head as we roll through the prairie provides a nice distraction to the endless expanse of grassland and the dramatic vistas of the badlands.
We have seen big towns and small and acres upon acres of wheat. It’s true that there are many small and dying towns but this is a place full of life and history. The people who call North Dakota home are truly the friendliest I have encountered on my many trips and they have a profound appreciation for where they are. In some ways I think they like that this place and their lifestyle is their little secret but they appreciate that we have chosen to take the time to find out the many things they think are wonderful about their state. We will run out of town before we run out of places to see and things that both amaze us and provide little moments of serendipity.
The stark contrast here is between the old and the new. For every old farm, or homestead, that is slowly being retaken by the land there is an oil well (ND is the 8th largest producer of oil, soon to become the 7th), a coal mine or a wind farm. Susan described it to me as energy rich and people poor. The other prominent feature of the landscape are the high tension power lines that ship the majority of ND’s energy to place like the twin cities which are people rich and energy poor.
I’m still falling behind on stories to tell and fall a little further each day.There is so much to do, so many places to get to and so many experiences (both big and small) to have and that we’ve had that it has been difficult to keep up with them all, but I am keeping notes.
It’s back out on the trail to be awed a little more. When we return from the backcountry we head north to Williston, the heart of North Dakota gas country and then we head east. We know we will hit Rugby, the geographic center of North America, other then that it is whatever the road, and this state, have to offer. If the past is any guide we are sure to have many more “over the hill” moments.
Cheers,
Posted by JW
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Royalty...
Day three... Word is getting out that we are spending our entire vacation in North Dakota and the people around here are no less surprised then some of our friends are. We set off this morning to the State Capitol with Bob. Before we hit the capitol we stopped by the courthouse to check out the courtroom where Bob conducts himself. Like many The capitol itself is the tallest building in Bismarck at 18 stories. Outside it looks like a government building. Inside is impressive.
We were treated like royalty and made to feel like two of the most important people in the state. It seems as if Bob owns the place. We were able to see both the governor and lieutenant governor’s offices. Neither were there but we were told we would have been invited in for coffee, not because we were with Bob but because that is the North Dakota way. - On a side note... This state has the friendliest, most genuine people I have ever met. We have only had one encounter with someone who was less then friendly and I attribute that more to the fact she was working the cash register at K-Mart then to any knock on the state. - We had an audience with the secretary of state, Al Jaeger, who even showed us the monkey room which is the secret entrance to the secretary’s office.
A lot of people have been surprised that we have decided to spend so much time in the state, people from here included. North Dakotans know how wonderful the state is but I think they kind of accept that it will continued to viewed as a dying state not a state vibrant with great people, natural beauty, large quantities of energy resources and some of the most productive farmland anywhere. Besides, I think they kind of like that it is their little secret. A few people have asked what we are going to do for almost two weeks and I assure you that we will run out of time before we run out of things to do, and it won’t even be close. We will be back.
Time is short right now. Coop and I are now in Medora, site of Theodore Roosevelt National Park and the Badlands. We have a trail ride on horses and then are going into the back country for some camping with the buffalo. We have more stories and experiences to share including Dakota the dinosaur, the world’s largest Holstein Cow in New Salem, Fort Saurkraut in Hebron, Brick City, Fort Lincoln (Where Custer mustered up the men for Little Big Horn), Fort Mandan (Lewis and Clark’s first winter camp), Coop’s visit to and old school soda fountain, Pitchfork fondue and the Medora Musical and many more.
It will be a few days before we update again, but so far it has been an amazing trip. Montana may be big sky country, but it begins here in North Dakota.
We were treated like royalty and made to feel like two of the most important people in the state. It seems as if Bob owns the place. We were able to see both the governor and lieutenant governor’s offices. Neither were there but we were told we would have been invited in for coffee, not because we were with Bob but because that is the North Dakota way. - On a side note... This state has the friendliest, most genuine people I have ever met. We have only had one encounter with someone who was less then friendly and I attribute that more to the fact she was working the cash register at K-Mart then to any knock on the state. - We had an audience with the secretary of state, Al Jaeger, who even showed us the monkey room which is the secret entrance to the secretary’s office.
A lot of people have been surprised that we have decided to spend so much time in the state, people from here included. North Dakotans know how wonderful the state is but I think they kind of accept that it will continued to viewed as a dying state not a state vibrant with great people, natural beauty, large quantities of energy resources and some of the most productive farmland anywhere. Besides, I think they kind of like that it is their little secret. A few people have asked what we are going to do for almost two weeks and I assure you that we will run out of time before we run out of things to do, and it won’t even be close. We will be back.
Time is short right now. Coop and I are now in Medora, site of Theodore Roosevelt National Park and the Badlands. We have a trail ride on horses and then are going into the back country for some camping with the buffalo. We have more stories and experiences to share including Dakota the dinosaur, the world’s largest Holstein Cow in New Salem, Fort Saurkraut in Hebron, Brick City, Fort Lincoln (Where Custer mustered up the men for Little Big Horn), Fort Mandan (Lewis and Clark’s first winter camp), Coop’s visit to and old school soda fountain, Pitchfork fondue and the Medora Musical and many more.
It will be a few days before we update again, but so far it has been an amazing trip. Montana may be big sky country, but it begins here in North Dakota.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Trip to Bismarck
Amongst Coop’s most impressive of skills is the ability to sleep in the car. Rather then being blessed with good company I have the opportunity to enjoy the countryside, listen to the BBC on the XM radio in my rental car and contemplate life. Every so often Coop will actually wake up and want to either talk or listen to music. I am sure we will reach some sort of accommodation as the trip progresses but for now at least the snoring is not too disruptive.
Nothing in this state is close to anything else and there is little in between the places that are far apart. Little except for wheat. There are a lot of wheat fields, and the world’s largest Buffalo, which is in Jamestown. Apparently we are going to be pleasantly surprised by some other bits of randomness that North Dakotans take a tremendous amount of pride in.
The eastern part of the state is flat. Pool table flat. I drove for miles upon miles without ever having to turn the wheel of the car. I did have to keep it cranked over to the left because one of the other qualities that we have discovered over our first few days is the wind. I do not think it dropped below about 25mph until right around dinner time yesterday. Wind, cold and rain has been the theme to date.
As we head west we travel through a large collection of bumps, not quite hills but a little texture to the terrain. Bismarck sits in the Missouri River Valley and seems to have a combination of everything that the state has to offer... flat, flood plain, buttes, hills... except the Badlands.
We arrived in Bismarck in time for dinner with Bob and Susan and were greeted like family. Bob is a former Attorney General for North Dakota and currently a judge in Bismarck. Susan in the chairwoman of the Public Utilities Commission. You will find out as we travel that this state is energy rich and population poor so much of their energy resources are sold to other states. In the continuing theme of niceness Bob and Susan have been awesome. They have opened up their home, made us feel like family, given us great direction for what to do next and made sure we felt like royalty when we visited the capitol.
After dinner we headed out to Fort Abraham Lincoln in Mandan. This was Custer’s fort at what was then the western terminus of the railroad. The fort itself sits on a bluff overlooking the Missouri River and overlooking Slant Village which was populated by the Mandan Indians living in earth dome lodges. The wind on top of the guard towers at the fort were bordering on absurd but the views were spectacular and Coop was actually awake and providing good company. The earth lodges that the Mandan lived in are really neat. It is a log structure creating the dome covered in grass and mud. Inside there is a big fire pit surrounded by all of the living space. In some ways it is similar to a yurt. The earth makes it warm in the winter and cool in the summer.
Family, forts, big buffalo, earth domes and wind. It was a pretty big day.
Nothing in this state is close to anything else and there is little in between the places that are far apart. Little except for wheat. There are a lot of wheat fields, and the world’s largest Buffalo, which is in Jamestown. Apparently we are going to be pleasantly surprised by some other bits of randomness that North Dakotans take a tremendous amount of pride in.
The eastern part of the state is flat. Pool table flat. I drove for miles upon miles without ever having to turn the wheel of the car. I did have to keep it cranked over to the left because one of the other qualities that we have discovered over our first few days is the wind. I do not think it dropped below about 25mph until right around dinner time yesterday. Wind, cold and rain has been the theme to date.
As we head west we travel through a large collection of bumps, not quite hills but a little texture to the terrain. Bismarck sits in the Missouri River Valley and seems to have a combination of everything that the state has to offer... flat, flood plain, buttes, hills... except the Badlands.
We arrived in Bismarck in time for dinner with Bob and Susan and were greeted like family. Bob is a former Attorney General for North Dakota and currently a judge in Bismarck. Susan in the chairwoman of the Public Utilities Commission. You will find out as we travel that this state is energy rich and population poor so much of their energy resources are sold to other states. In the continuing theme of niceness Bob and Susan have been awesome. They have opened up their home, made us feel like family, given us great direction for what to do next and made sure we felt like royalty when we visited the capitol.
After dinner we headed out to Fort Abraham Lincoln in Mandan. This was Custer’s fort at what was then the western terminus of the railroad. The fort itself sits on a bluff overlooking the Missouri River and overlooking Slant Village which was populated by the Mandan Indians living in earth dome lodges. The wind on top of the guard towers at the fort were bordering on absurd but the views were spectacular and Coop was actually awake and providing good company. The earth lodges that the Mandan lived in are really neat. It is a log structure creating the dome covered in grass and mud. Inside there is a big fire pit surrounded by all of the living space. In some ways it is similar to a yurt. The earth makes it warm in the winter and cool in the summer.
Family, forts, big buffalo, earth domes and wind. It was a pretty big day.
114 Joseph Street
The day began by heading east from Fargo on US 10 the 25 miles to Hawley, Minnesota. Our great grandfather, Knud, settled in Hawley in the late 1800’s. Cousin Bob (I believe that being my mom’s cousin would make him my second cousin) had given us some good visual directions, but no street names. Hawley is a tough place to get lost in and while we were not able to use the directions to find the house we never were lost. After 30 minutes or so of driving around fruitlessly we ventured into the Hawley Herald and handed over the directions to the a nice young lady who tried to make sense of that landmarks in the email. After a few minutes she went in the back and brought out Leona Lewis Anderson. She is 87 and has lived in Hawley her entire life. Not only did she know exactly where the Wefald house was, she knew both Knud, his wife Sarah and their children Olav (Bob’s dad), Magnus and Egil (my grandfather and Coop’s great-grandfather). It was pretty neat to meet someone who had a connection to the family. It felt like we were on a treasure hunt and so far it was going pretty well.
A little historical note about Hawley. Hawley was settled in the 1870’s as a depot for the Northern pacific Railroad. It was given its name by Thomas Hawley Canfield, who laid out the current town, in 1872. General Custer visited the town in 1876 not long before the infamous battle at Little Big Horn. More on Custer later...
We followed Leona’s directions to Joseph street and shortly were in front of the house that fit the description. Two story porch, middle of the block, left side of the street. Coop and I stood out front for a few trying to decide if this really was the house. It has fresh vinyl siding and does not look like a house built in 1901 on what was still fairly wild praire. Upon closer inspection I could see that the foundation was made of stone and looked to be pretty old. Coop encouraged me to knock, and we did. We stood out side for a couple of minutes and were turning back to the car thinking no one was home and we would have to simply assume that this was the house. Halfway down the walk the door opened. Ryan Klev walked out and we told him our story. This was indeed the house. He works nights, we woke him up, but he was still nice and genuinely excited to find out a little about the Wefald’s. We have promised him some more information and the house may even become a stop of next year’s Wefald Family Reunion tour.
Searching for our roots is not only exciting, but a little draining. It was time for lunch which brought us back to downtown and the Whistle Stop Cafe. When Coop decided not to get green peppers on his cheese steak, I decided to get them on my burger, which had two of thickest pieces of bacon I have ever seen on a burger. Apparently no in in the Whistle Stop has ever thought to put peppers on a burger and this led to a long discussion amongst the people who work at the Whistle Stop and then into a long discussion with me about the desire for peppers. I’m breaking new culinary ground in Hawley and am sure that if I return I will simply be known as the green pepper guy.
Having successfully left my culinary mark on Hawley, Coop and I took a walk around town. We checked out the train tracks, the grain elevator and tried to go back and thank Leona for the directions to the house but the paper was closed. Hawley is a small and simple place but it is going through somewhat of a growth spurt as it has been heavily promoting itself as a bedroom community for Fargo. Aside from family history, what Haley has the most of is really nice, genuine people.
Off to the cemetery in search of Knud (pronounced kuh-nude), wife Sarah and spinster Emma. We first found Bob’s mom and dad Olav and Walma,, and then found Knud, Sarah and Emma. Coop had the great idea of getting flowers so we went to Tony’s market and picked up the $9.99 bouquet of blue and yellow carnations. Coop also decided that Knud, as the big guy of the family, should get blue. Knud was a pretty impressive guy. He came over from Norway in the late 1870’s, went back and then came back. He is described as a poet, the mayor of Hawley, a congressman and a member of various commissions. His headstone, which may have been stolen from the colosseum in Rome is pretty striking. It is about 8 feet long with columns on either side. Next time we visit, it’s flowers and a toga.
Posted by JW
A little historical note about Hawley. Hawley was settled in the 1870’s as a depot for the Northern pacific Railroad. It was given its name by Thomas Hawley Canfield, who laid out the current town, in 1872. General Custer visited the town in 1876 not long before the infamous battle at Little Big Horn. More on Custer later...
We followed Leona’s directions to Joseph street and shortly were in front of the house that fit the description. Two story porch, middle of the block, left side of the street. Coop and I stood out front for a few trying to decide if this really was the house. It has fresh vinyl siding and does not look like a house built in 1901 on what was still fairly wild praire. Upon closer inspection I could see that the foundation was made of stone and looked to be pretty old. Coop encouraged me to knock, and we did. We stood out side for a couple of minutes and were turning back to the car thinking no one was home and we would have to simply assume that this was the house. Halfway down the walk the door opened. Ryan Klev walked out and we told him our story. This was indeed the house. He works nights, we woke him up, but he was still nice and genuinely excited to find out a little about the Wefald’s. We have promised him some more information and the house may even become a stop of next year’s Wefald Family Reunion tour.
Searching for our roots is not only exciting, but a little draining. It was time for lunch which brought us back to downtown and the Whistle Stop Cafe. When Coop decided not to get green peppers on his cheese steak, I decided to get them on my burger, which had two of thickest pieces of bacon I have ever seen on a burger. Apparently no in in the Whistle Stop has ever thought to put peppers on a burger and this led to a long discussion amongst the people who work at the Whistle Stop and then into a long discussion with me about the desire for peppers. I’m breaking new culinary ground in Hawley and am sure that if I return I will simply be known as the green pepper guy.
Having successfully left my culinary mark on Hawley, Coop and I took a walk around town. We checked out the train tracks, the grain elevator and tried to go back and thank Leona for the directions to the house but the paper was closed. Hawley is a small and simple place but it is going through somewhat of a growth spurt as it has been heavily promoting itself as a bedroom community for Fargo. Aside from family history, what Haley has the most of is really nice, genuine people.
Off to the cemetery in search of Knud (pronounced kuh-nude), wife Sarah and spinster Emma. We first found Bob’s mom and dad Olav and Walma,, and then found Knud, Sarah and Emma. Coop had the great idea of getting flowers so we went to Tony’s market and picked up the $9.99 bouquet of blue and yellow carnations. Coop also decided that Knud, as the big guy of the family, should get blue. Knud was a pretty impressive guy. He came over from Norway in the late 1870’s, went back and then came back. He is described as a poet, the mayor of Hawley, a congressman and a member of various commissions. His headstone, which may have been stolen from the colosseum in Rome is pretty striking. It is about 8 feet long with columns on either side. Next time we visit, it’s flowers and a toga.
Posted by JW
Friday, June 13, 2008
Bismarck...
Bob and Susan's house in Bismarck, North Dakota... Yesterday, my dad and I went to Hawley, MN in the morning. It was only about a half hour drive from Fargo, ND. I was glad that it was that short. When we first got to Hawley, the directions that Bob had given us didn't really help us that much to get to the old Wefald House. Since the directions weren't helping us, we stopped at the Hawley Herald. At first, the lady at the counter didn't know what to say. She went to the back and asked Leona Louis Anderson. Leona knew Magnus and Verna Wefald and she knew where they lived. We took her directions and found the original Wefald House. After, we went to a place called the "Whistle Stop Cafe" for lunch. It wasn't half bad.
After, we went to the Hawley Cemetery where Knud, Sarah, Emma, Olav, Walma, Magnus, and Verna Wefald are buried. I though that it was funny that seven people from one family were buried in the same place. We put flowers on everyone's grave. It wasn't hard to find the graves because one is that we had directions from Bob and two that there was a big diagram saying where each grave was. It was hard to believe how many things that Knud Wefald was involved in. He was a mayor for Hawley, state legislator, member of congress, and he was a executive secretary~ commission of administration and finance. He had a busy life. We started to drive towards Bismarck, North Dakota.
This time, the drive wasn't as short. In fact it was ten times longer. It took us five hours with a few stops on the way. We headed for I-94 out of Hawley. I have to admit that I did fall asleep. When I woke up, I saw a sign for the World's Largest Buffalo and the National Buffalo Museum. We got off at the Jamestown exit. We saw the statue of the largest buffalo. When I saw that it said that it was sixty tons, I was amazed. After we looked at the statue for a while, we went to the National Buffalo Museum. It didn't have the same feeling of a museum. It had history about buffalo and everything, but there was also a viewing deck into where the buffalo roam, National Buffalo Hall of Fame, and easily 750 arrow heads. When my dad and I were on the viewing deck, we saw a rare Albanian Buffalo Calf. I was really excited. Whenever we got to a place where I could take a picture, it had run away. Then I starting to feel sad. We hoped and into the car and headed for Bismarck.
. . . . . .
We found our way to Bob and Susan's house. We made it just in time for dinner. We had steak with fries and asparagus. Everything was really good. After dinner, we went to Fort Abraham Lincoln. It is just outside of Bismarck. When we got to the fort, we went to the block houses. The block houses were really cool because you could go all of the way to the roof and stand on the roof. We then took a trail down to the "On a Slant Indian Village." There was a map showing how many Earth Lodges there were. I was amazed because there was easily 100 Earth Lodges. After, we went to General Custer's house. It was really fancy. Susan and I went to the soldiers barracks and looked through the window. I wouldn't have wanted to be in the army. We went home and went to bed. It was an amazing day.
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