North Dakota is all green and blue. The sky blankets you. The highway dips into and out of valleys. Each time I emerge over the ridge, I gasp – the sky is big. Montana is called ‘Big Sky Country,’ but I don’t know how the sky can get any bigger than this. The I-94 stretches more than the length of North Dakota and it is a beautiful stretch of road, as scenic as other designated scenic roads I’ve been on. Make sure that you have petrol in your car, because there are no road-side services alone the route – the get to services, you have to drive off the highway and into one of the towns you’ll be passing. Many of the turn-offs have a sign noting ‘No Services’ which is helpful – there are plenty of these.
Although the I-94 offers nice views for the driver, my car is quickly fed up with the long, steady uphill drives. It’s not a problem that uphill I am driving 45mph where the speed limit is 75mph since I have the highway pretty much to myself, and am in no danger of causing someone to explore in a riotous road rage – I do drive by a billboard with an image of an empty road and the slogan “North Dakota during rush hour.” It’s true.
To give the car a break, I take the Hwy 139, a designated scenic biway, passing through Harbor, Tower, Richardson and Dickinson. The route is pretty, following the railroad, passing through fields of grazing cattle, tall growing corn, and huge, imposing silver silos. Now that I’m off the highway, I can stop the car (even in the middle of the road – there is no one else to share the road with) breathe in the fresh air and enjoy the peace.
I have been drinking coffee rarely, so I decide to treat myself, hoping that I will stumble on some cute little diner – Harbor is the next town and I pull in. The streets are incredibly wide (I wonder what impression people from Europe get of these wide streets in town that are as wide as their motorways!) and on Main St. live a few low buildings – cafe, bank, post office, and a farm equipment store. The streets are lined with cars, and once in a while someone will drive by, wave and shout ‘hello’ from their open window. When in these small towns, everyone I pass waves and says hello, from their cars or the opposite pavement – I love it – it doesn’t make me feel like a tourist and I myself am getting into the habit of waving as I drive. There are, however, no walkers about.
I step into a cafe with no high hopes – the building is a plain square box with no distinguishing features, so I am amazed when I walk in and the cafe is jazzed up with funky paint colours and lots of art on the walls. The TV plays The Breakfast Club and a cheerful barista welcomes me in. The display houses many delicious sweet snacks – I can’t refuse the peanut butter and chocolate chip muffin – crispy on the outside, moist on the inside.
I suppose the lesson is not to judge the town by its outward appearance. The town seems to be asleep – you have to step into the establishments to find life. Also, I arrived just before lunch time, and I suspect most people were out working.
From Dickinson I head North, and the landscape quickly changes from rolling green hills into ‘The Badlands’ – uneven ground, buttes rising out of the earth, exposing layers of coloured rock. The sky also changes, quickly, with the newscaster informing me that the winds are 90 – 98mph. I know the winds are strong because suddenly I have to hold my steering wheel tight with both hands to keep the car on the road. Clouds roll in, dark and heavy. It looks like the kind of storm a witch has called upon – the outer edges of the clouds illuminated by the sun’s rays, the middle the darkest shade of grey. Soon I am driving in and out of the rain.
Hwy 200 is also a sight – for about 60km the highway is under construction, drivers having to use the muddy gravel shoulder. With the wind and on-and-off-again rain, my windshield is soon moving red dirt around. Cleaning the windshield does not help. For miles on the highway I see orange vests and hardhats, machinery that can easily plough me over. Anyone not working waves or nods their heads ‘hello.’ The highway is lined with oil rigs – this area of North Dakota is rich in oil, and I wonder if they’re improving the highway for easier access to these. Despite the rain, the 20mph drive, the mud, the thunder and lighting, the drive fun – for a while I imagined I was in an all wheel drive, high clearance vehicle, on some trail, racing (slowly) to the finish line.
As I get closer to the park, the Badlands really take shape, looming around and over, hues of orange, grey and beige. And I arrive. For now the rain has abated and I’m under a patch of blue, but all around me the clouds are still hovering, changing shape and direction.
