The countryside I drove through today brought to mind something I’d read several years ago in Eric Sevareid’s autobiography. A native North Dakotan, he wrote a passage to the effect that most people in this country think of North Dakota being a large, blank spot in the middle of the nation. The road heading north of Sterling, through Wing, past the ghost town of Denhoff and on to our destination twelve miles north of there seems at least as sparsely populated as anyplace I’ve encountered in Montana, Wyoming or Nevada. It shows on the map as a blank spot.
Mostly comprised of hilly pastureland and white-rimmed alkaline sloughs, I thought it was a big event to see something move besides grazing cows or flying birds: a farmer mowed hay in a long stretch of highway ditch, a baler worked in a field rolling large round bales, a couple of semi-trucks roared by, and a tractor with a mounted auger stood ready to dig yet another fencepost hole.
That part of the state would suit Michael Martin Murphey, the western singer and cowboy culture lover who told his Medora concert crowd last Wednesday evening that he thought the plains should be allowed to revert to grasslands. "It would take only three years," he told us. While that’s not a very practical, sure-to-happen proposition, he said something about the "foolishness" of all these ethanol plants being built that I had to agree with somewhat. When driving west to Medora one passes the town of Richardton and its brand new ethanol plant. While I commend community development and job creation, seeing that plant erected where no corn grows makes one wonder a bit. I venture to guess 95% of the corn they process will be trucked or hauled by rail, thus adding high-priced transportation costs.
Times change and maps forget old place names which adds to the blank spot. I looked on a new North Dakota map and could not find Venlo, a place my parents still talk about. It’s still clear in their memories. Anselm and Raleigh still show up, but their names, population and map co-ordinates do not since they are not incorporated. Sometime in the future they, too, will disappear into memories.
