We arrived at the Red Trail Vineyard in Buffalo, North Dakota just in time to catch owner Rodney for a tasting and storytelling session before he departed to Fargo for friends, ribs, and some Red Trail wine we imagine.
Harvest Hosts is turning out to be a joyful respite from the road. These small business owners are eager to share their products, stories and parking lots with random people like us who are just passing through. So far we call ahead, ask if we can stay, and they say, heck yeah, c’mon by.
North Dakota is known for two things: the movie Fargo and remarkable wine. By remarkable, Rodney explains that it’s remarkable that you can grow grapes for wine in North Dakota, the land of minus 30 degree winters. Two dozen miles outside Fargo, Rodney is working with University wineology PhDs (why didn’t Eric get one those instead) to prove the doubters wrong. Rodney has some 2500 vines in a Hallmark movie vineyard complete with a reclaimed granary that serves as a Friday night specialty restaurant. After surprisingly delicious tasting, we purchased the Frontenac Gris, waved good bye to Rodney, and spent the evening alone in the vineyard, eating our dinner in the gazebo and throwing horseshoes until the sunset.
There is a point out west where the endless farmland ends and the moonscape begins. In North Dakota that’s past Bismarck but before Teddy Roosevelt National Park.
In what feels like some other life, pre-virus, pre-protest, we planned to park-chase summer’s arrival north from the Mexican border to the Canadian border. That turned into 71 days critiquing B-52 landings in Louisiana. As the country began to reopen, we were determined to bust outta Barksdale for those Badlands birthdays or cry tryin.
And here we are, connected to America’s historic current events unfolding through a weak cell signal. We live in the middle of Badlands formed by an ocean last seen 300 million years ago. The unique landscape was formed on a timescale unimaginably long for human comprehension. In severe contrast, our low-bandwidth news feed makes it obvious that this is a time of great change for our unique civilization.
The park’s namesake, Teddy Roosevelt, was one of our country’s great progressives who well understood the power and responsibility of the government to act in the best interests of the common man in this Republic. We had problems then of very large corporations (trusts) having virtually unlimited power to control prices and working conditions. Our natural resources and natural wonders were in danger of being ‘developed’ and lost to all future generations. This great Republic held great promise, but was also in peril. Many progressive reforms in business oversight and natural resource preservation were accomplished in those years against great adversity. Let the fact that two average citizens like us can experience the grandeur and beauty of the Badlands be a testament to optimism in the face of adversity and of the power of democratic reform.
We have bison but no oil derricks in the middle of the Badlands. Disney does not own the Grand Canyon. Today the challenges are different, but the process is the same. Activate. Engage. Fight at the ballot box for the progressive causes in which you feel strongly. Think long-term. Make a lasting difference. Future generations will thank you.
Teddy R NP is open for activity, but the visitor center and camping is closed. The wind is always blowing so it’s hard for germs to congregate and nobody’s here so it’s easy to social distance. There are more horses than people in our campground at Sully Creek State Park. A semi trucked in a trailer full for a multigenerational family event. Camping with your horses is a thing in the west. Besides them, we’re less than 10 in the no-horse side of the park.
We were alone at sunset in Wind Canyon and alone for lunch in the Petrified Forest. The businesses in the supporting town of Medora are flying giant OPEN flags but parking lots are sparse of cars. Maybe it will be different in Montana, but our friends who went to Yellowstone today said they had the trails to themselves.
As sad as we were when we lost Betty to rain damage is as happy we were to be in Boss, driving 7 miles in 4 wheel drive down a red dirt road for an off-the-beaten-path hike to the Petrified Forest. Roxie and the Comos were back at Sully Creek minding the solar panels so we could charge phones, post blogs and read books at camp tonight. While we are beholden to our e-bike transportation experiences, exploring the wide open west is more accessible on 4 wheels than 2. They have a place, but not in these North Dakota Badlands.
We took a 5 mile prairie hike to work out the stiff toes connected to the mending ankle and the leg kinks of a late 50s man. We’re out of practice, but nature gave us wood turned to stone and time to reflect on our Badlands Birthdays and talk about the news of the now.
