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.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
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
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
