Does anyone actually live in that lonely, beautiful state of North Dakota? And why is it that people just love to poke fun at the place? We rather liked the humble state of North Dakota, even if prairie dogs outnumber citizens and meals are served with pitchforks.
The tiny town of Medora hosts one of North Dakota’s most popular attractions. Medora is home to an estimated 93 people, according to the U.S. Census. (They have to estimate 93? How hard could it be to count them?) For 45 years, each summer the town has produced a musical extravaganza in a beautiful outdoor arena that is enjoyed by thousands of visitors. The musical is a classic, corny production celebrating the American West through music, dance, and bad jokes (I loved them). The performers are quite professional, and hail mostly from Western states, although two musicians were from London! A handful were North Dakota natives, which greatly reduced the populations of their hometowns.
An evening of musical theater wouldn’t be complete without a fine meal, so prior to the curtain rise we dined at the Pitchfork Fondue. That’s not the name of the restaurant – that’s how our food was prepared. Thick ribeye steaks were stabbed by real (and hopefully very clean) pitchforks, then dunked into huge vats of hot oil. Now there’s something you don’t see every day. It was not for feint of heart vegetarians.
Hundreds of folks come through the line at the Pitch Fork fondue, filling their plates with baked beans, baked potatoes, cole slaw, and hearty steak cooked with farm implements. Thankfully, the steaks were transferred to plates, so we didn’t have to eat them directly off the pitchforks. The steak was delicious, but we couldn’t really discern the difference between cooking a la pitchfork and cooking a la backyard barbecue. Maybe it needed to be tenderized by a tractor before cooking.
Anyway, the Medora Musical celebrates the town’s connection with President Teddy Roosevelt. During the late 1800s, Roosevelt somehow found himself in North Dakota and he fell in love with the lonesome beauty of the badlands and the rugged outdoor life there. He built a small ranch near Medora and lived there a couple of years. Later, he led the “Rough Riders” to victory during the Spanish-American war, became our 26th President, and established several national parks. As numerous signs around town boast, he apparently learned some invaluable skills out West: “I have always said I would not have been President had it not been for my experience in North Dakota”.
The North Dakotans are very, very proud of their connection with such a remarkable U.S. President, and the musical included several tributes to his life and legacy. After just visiting Little Big Horn, we found it an interesting juxtaposition of history and leadership skills to compare Custer and Roosevelt. (Though we learned later of some Roosevelt detractors in New Mexico)
We were once again struck by the depth of patriotism among our fellow citizens. The show saluted current soldiers and veterans, and the crowd responded with overpowering gratitude. I have to say it brought a tear to my jaded eye.
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Adjacent to the thriving metropolis of Medora is the Teddy Roosevelt National Park, a beautiful surprise. I say surprise, because we made the mistake of assuming that the term “badlands” meant, well, bad lands. So we expected ugly, barren, desolate stretches of vast wastelands. Au contrair. The badlands are full of lush fields, dazzling wildflowers, rocky plateaus and abundant wildlife.
Apparently there is great variety in the badlands wildlife: buffalo, horses, birds, etc. But we were captivated by one species in particular: the prairie dog. ADORABLE! They have some sort of innate sense of cross-species humor, because you look at them and you just have to giggle. Thousands of them populate the park, and it seems that each one is insatiably curious. They pop up from their little dens to peruse their kingdoms and occasionally stare down the human trespasser. We took about sixty photos of prairie dogs. No kidding. Prairie dogs looking to the left, to the right, back to the left again, now straight at us. You get the picture, and we have plenty of them, should you ever need to make a prairie dog photo essay.
You looking at me?
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Our travels in North Dakota were limited to Western North and South North Dakota. Got that? Unfortunately, we missed Fargo, a place I’ve always wanted to see, but will have to save for another trip. We drove on I-94, passing through the border town of Beach. You gotta wonder about that name, since we were miles and miles from any type of coastline. This exit sign also got our attention:
It’s actually not a town, but is some kind of school, but we still loved the sign. And considering that the song is the “anthem of the American West’, we just had to pick it for North Dakota. We also drove on highways 21, 22, and 12, detouring to drive along route 4531, affectionately known as The Enchanted Highway.
In the 1990s, a teacher in the tiny town of Regent worried that his town was fading away. I guess he was afraid the Census Bureau would estimate that there was only one person living there. Anyway, he came up with a novel way to draw attention (and a few dollars) to Regent. He somehow figured out how to make three gigantic metal sculptures, which he planted in a cornfield along the main highway into town. They got some attention, and probably a few laughs, so he built another…..and another…and another. Kind of odd, but it makes for a very entertaining drive well worth the detour. And best of all, Regent is still very much on the map, not to mention a little bit richer following our visit to the Enchanted Highway Gift Shop.
As we left North Dakota, we stopped for lunch at The Dairy Barn, a very busy local restaurant. We stood at the counter perusing the menu, and I noticed that the number one item was “BBQ”. Other selections included hamburgers and fried chicken. I was puzzled – BBQ what? Chicken? Beef? Have you ever seen a menu that says: today we’re serving fried, and also baked or boiled? Anyway, I asked the guy at the counter what was barbecued. He looked at me as if I had two heads. “It’s our specialty. Kind of like a sloppy joe”. We ordered two. And they were delicious – but as near as I could tell, no part of the sandwich was ever anywhere close to a barbecue. At least they weren’t served on pitchforks.
6. North Dakota
A prairie dog at Teddy Roosevelt National Park