Our theme for the month of October is “states.”
Coming from a lifetime surrounded by trees and the great lakes, North Dakota felt alien and overwhelming.
In 2021, my family visited Glacier National Park in Montana, and I joined my parents in driving all the way there. The highlight of the approximately thirty hour drive was somewhat surprisingly North Dakota. We had planned to camp at Theodore Roosevelt National Park, but the 105 degree heat said otherwise. Stepping out of the truck into the heat was one of the most interesting physical sensations I’ve ever had. Prairie heat is something else. Paired with the constant wind, we chose only short hikes and appreciated the scenic drive that allowed us the comfort of air conditioning.
Theodore Roosevelt National Park has three units, and we visited the north and the south portions of the park. Sweeping views of the Little Missouri River offered a feeling hard to find in Michigan. The land out there felt foreign to me. I’ve been lucky enough to see much of the western United States, but those dry prairie valleys invoke a different feeling than the mountains. Watching a herd of bison swat their tails in the dust while I’m sitting in a truck with an iPhone in my pocket and a snack bag with Cheez-Its and Twizzlers next to my feet invoked a strange anachronistic feeling other national parks have not. It felt like visiting another world, but more importantly, another era. A reminder that the wild west is still wild.
The third unit of the park is Elkhorn Ranch, a parcel of land formerly occupied by the park’s namesake American figure. Teddy Roosevelt first visited the area in 1883 to hunt bison. By the end of his hunting trip he had bought a cattle ranch. Less than a year later, following the death of his wife and mother on the same day, Teddy returned to the North Dakota wilderness to grieve.
There is a wide loneliness in the Dakota badlands, exacerbated by heat and wind. Perhaps the physical emptiness dampened feelings of solitude and loss. Seeing nothing on the horizon in all directions is an eerie feeling that could be equal parts comforting and disconcerting. Retreating into the solitude of the wilds is an image I associate with the greens of a beech-maple forest, or maybe the grays of the Rockies if I’m feeling exotic, not the muted browns of the prairie. I think the open skies would begin to frighten me, and I would miss the gentle confinement of a multi-layered forest canopy. I don’t know if I would have wanted the prairie storms to hit or to pass me by. Would the cooling rains be worth the fear of a storm stronger than my cabin? I guess Teddy sought a baptism by both rain and drought.
We decided not to visit the ranch while we were in the area. Scenic views and the hopes of seeing wildlife in the larger sections of the park were deemed more important. Only the foundation stones of the cottonwood cabin remain at the site anyway. Maybe if the cabin still stood we would have stopped by. We could have paused on the porch and looked to the west, watching thunderheads slowly roll our way.
Nathan Hilbrands (’21) graduated with degrees in geography and environmental health and conservation. He is currently working for the Allegan Conservation District as a watershed technician. He enjoys collecting National Geographic issues that he rarely looks at again, playing disc golf a lot without improving, and trying new board games.
