Sunday, June 5, 2016

June 2nd thru 4th, 2016



June 2, 2016

Roger and I think we have discovered how the cottonwood trees got their name.  These trees are planted all along the banks of the river at this corp park.  When we pulled in yesterday, it looked like it was snowing because there were white puffs “raining” down from the trees and collecting in “drifts” along the side of the drive.  They definitely looked like thin cotton balls.

Today, after a stop at Walmart we headed north across South Dakota.  There are a few areas with groupings of trees, but for the most part, the land is planted with crops.  The rest of the land is comprised of grasses about a foot high, swaying in unison with the wind.  We have noticed that the red winged blackbird is more prevalent here than the mocking bird is back home in Pensacola.  I have really enjoyed Roger bird watching with me, on this trip.  Unfortunately, we haven’t been doing much bird “finding” of new birds.  Either they won’t stay in one spot long enough or the large variety of similar species makes it very difficult to distinguish one from another.  But we’ll keep trying.

Suddenly, as we were driving along, a male pheasant ran across the road, startling us, but also making us smile.  Just a few miles later we saw a welcome sign for the town of Redfield, South Dakota.  It read, “Pheasant Capital of the World”.  Since it was dinner time, we decided to stop and eat at a local restaurant, called “Rooster”, a VFW club.  We had the roasted chicken dinner, which was very good.  In speaking with the waitress, we found out that the name of the club comes from the nickname for the male pheasant.

After eating, we had planned to drive a little while longer, but Roger noticed a campground on the edge of town on a small lake.  It was so pretty and inviting that he decided to stay for the night.  After choosing a campsite, we parked, then took a walk and looked for birds before going to bed. 

June 3, 2016

This will be another driving day through farm lands and prairie.  There are some farms with cattle herds grazing in pastures of prairie grass.  But for the most part, the land is so flat that you can see for about 10 miles in every direction.

After lunch we stopped for gas in the small town of Selby, South Dakota and saw something we’ll never see at home: a group of people riding horses down the main street of town.  I guess we are officially “out west”, in cowboy country.  We crossed over the Missouri River at Mobridge, South Dakota and noticed the river is twice as wide as it was on the Nebraska/South Dakota border.  Roger noted we are now in the Mountain Time Zone and back on the Lewis and Clark Trail. 

The wind is very strong, making white caps on the water.  Just 30 miles farther north and we crossed over into North Dakota.  The hills are much higher on both sides of the Missouri.  There are less trees and farmland and much more open prairie. The winds have gotten even stronger and constantly tug at the RV.  Farmers must get wind burns from exposure due to working out of doors, in this country.  One point of interest we have seen is the use of old tires placed on fence posts for signs.  They usually have “no hunting” written around the edge, though I’m not sure what people would be hunting for.  Some of the tires on the posts don’t have any written message.  We can’t figure that out.  Maybe the message has just worn off.

As we crested one of the many hills, we were excited to see a small herd of buffalo grazing behind a fence.  There were several babies among the herd, which was very encouraging.  They are such powerful creatures, who supported the Indian nations for countless years.  It would be wonderful to see their numbers thrive again.

The farther north we travel, the taller the mountains become.  Some of them have grey rock walls where erosion has carved narrow crevices in the sides.  At this part of the river we actually saw some beaches with light brown “sand”, something we had not seen before.  Later in the afternoon, as we continued our drive north and west, we came to a rise with windmills in the distance.  Considering the high winds, I can see the logic of using that resource productively.  I counted 32 in all and found myself wondering how many household they support with electricity. 

We arrived at the Knife River Indian Villages National Historic Site, near Washburn North Dakota.  Though the visitor’s center was closed because it was so late, there was an exhibit outside.  This was a replica of the round earthen structures the Indians lived in.  There were large tree trunks, with two thick branches at the top, forming a “V”.  These stand several degrees inward (rather than straight vertically).  Then another log was placed across the top of two “Vs”.  This formation continued all around the lodge.  I looked forward to seeing the inside when the visitor’s center is opened, tomorrow. 

We hiked the path down to the Knife River, bird watching along the way.  Finally, we have identified a new bird.  It has a yellow chest, grey head and black tail:  the Western Kingbird.  When we got to the river, I was surprised how small it was, only about twenty feet across.  Yet it supported the life of numerous Indian families for many years. 

We stayed in the parking lot for the night and Roger transmitted on the radio, activating this National Park Site for ham radio operators.



June 4, 2016

This morning we watched the movie in the visitor’s center.  It was narrated by an Indian woman who was raised in the earthen lodges along the Knife River.  She explained the history of her Hidatsa people and their farming and hunting practices.   Then the park Ranger gave us a tour of the inside of the lodge.  The construction was much more complex than I had realized.  The interior is constructed entirely of notched logs (no nails).  The men begin the process by digging four holes in the ground and setting 4 huge support poles about two feet in diameter.  The remainder of the work is performed by the women.  The sides are formed of smaller split logs, with the cut side to the inside of the lodge.  The roof is made of reeds, then the entire structure is covered with sod.  A buffalo hide is stretched on a frame in front of the doorway, to block the wind.  There is a fire ringed with small rocks at the center of the lodge, just below a smoke hole in the roof.

We left the historic site about 9 a.m. (one of our earlier starts to the day).  I’ve just noticed something that is “missing” in the farm land we are passing.  There are no large sprinkler systems.  Perhaps there is adequate rainfall to support the crops without irrigation.  We have notices more large rocks on the prairie and have passed several piles that appear to have been removed from the ground prior to planting.

About 10.00 a.m. we began to see several oil pumping stations, like the ones we have observed in Texas.  The previous park ranger had mentioned there was some controversy recently about the oil industry here in western North Dakota.  Roger and I haven’t listened to any news in quite sometime, so we have not heard about the dispute.  Before the day was over I had counted 62 oil pumps.

It was 11 a.m. when we were surprised that the landscape changed to a land of canyons, similar to the Grand Canyon, though not as deep or colorful.  These canyons are mostly beige and grey.  A roadside sign indicated that the land is comprised of sandstone, clay and shale.  It is still quite beautiful.  Shortly afterward we came to the entrance to Theodore Roosevelt National Park.  What a wonderful unexpected site it was!  We had no idea there were canyons in North Dakota.

The road into the park is 14 miles long, curving around the mountains.  The Little Missouri River flows through the center of the park.  There were small herds of buffalo grazing on the hillsides and upper prairie land.  There also appeared to be small group of antelope in the distance.  We stopped at the River Overlook and took pictures, then continued to the final overlook at the end of the road, called Oxbow Overlook, named for the sharp curve of the river.  After Roger transmitted for awhile at another overlook at the highest point in the park, we returned to Hwy 85 North, leaving the canyons behind.

Our next stop was Ft. Union Trading Post, on the North Dakota/Montana border.  It was established in 1828 to “meet the growing demand” for trade between the various Indian tribes and the fur traders.  The Indians provided buffalo robes and beaver pelts in exchange for gums, pots, knives, blankets and cloths.  There was a complimentary balance between these two cultures for almost 60 years.

We walked through the fort and made sure to get the fort stamp for our National Park booklet.  We listened to an Indian women talk about the forts purpose and walked through the small museum.  Then we went back to the RV so Roger could transmit on the radio from this location, another National Park site.

As we continued driving, the terrain in Eastern Montana revealed low, round, rolling hills, with hardly any trees.  The prairie is a world of short grasses, as far as the eye can see.  Then about 50 miles later, the land became very flat from the Missouri River for about five miles distance, to the first set of rolling of hills.  The sun was starting to set and it made a really beautiful pattern across the sky, sliding from pale blue sky to pink, rose, lavender and purple colored clouds.  It was hard to realize how late it was because the sun does not set in this part of the country until 10p.m.   We drove for over and hour, with major road construction slowing us down to a crawl for almost 20 miles.  The “road” was gravel so little rocks clanged and clattered of the wheels.  When we finally arrived in Ft. Peck, we found a parking lot near a theater where we spent the night.

No comments:

Post a Comment