Listing Through Life

There isn’t much to see between Minot and Cando. We did our best, which consisted of a thorough tour of the town of Rugby. It bills itself as the “Geographical Center of North America.” (Not to be confused with Belle Fourche, South Dakota, which is the Geographical Center of the United States.) As with every other site of this sort I’ve been to, the actual point being celebrated is several miles away.

This one is better because it’s drive-through.

We parked in downtown Rugby and wandered the streets. The town has the largest grain elevator I’ve ever seen.

And the remains of what has to be the smallest J.C. Penny’s on the planet.

We found a diner downtown that doubled as an antique store.

Cando is only 20 miles from the Canadian border, but it sure doesn’t feel like it to me. Not when it’s 95 degrees in August, anyway. The flat farmland looks like central Illinois and doesn’t at all conform to my idea of “north.”

The town got its name Cando “to show you that we can do it,” according to its web site. It’s one of at least two towns (the other is Gackle) to bill itself as the Duck Capital of North Dakota.

A lot of Scandinavians immigrated to North Dakota. To celebrate this fact, Minot created the eclectic Scandinavian Heritage Park. We stopped for about half an hour on Wednesday morning and saw what there was to see.

The Sigdal House, built in 1771, was brought over from Norway. It is billed as the oldest house in North Dakota, but since it’s only been in the state since 1991, this seems a bit of a reach. I somehow neglected to take a photo of the outside. Imagine any log cabin you’ve ever seen and you’ll get the idea. The painted decorations on the inside were impressive.

This is a reproduction of a stave church in Oslo, Norway. We learned that the “a” in “stave” is properly pronounced like the “o” in bottle.

Grinning faces represent the 12 apostles. I was unable to discover which ones had their tongues sticking out. The chairs, I presume, were not authentic.

The little building with dead grass on the roof is a storehouse, called a stabbut. It was built  in Norway as a reproduction of a famous one and shipped to Minot. It was tiny inside.

There was a waterfall because, according to the brochure, “water plays a large part in the lives of Scandinavians.” There was also a sauna, a windmill, a floating stone globe, a statue of Sondre Norheim, the “Father of Modern Skiiing,” a statue of Casper Oimoen (“credited with initiating the forward-lean to ski jumping in America”), and a plaza with a map of Scandinavia.

Oh, and this statue of Leif Eiriksson, “the first man of European stock to step ashore in North America in about the year 1000.”

We wandered around the gift shop, where I asked a troll if there were red chairs in Denmark.

I spotted this sign across the road from the park and did what it says.

I got up early on Wednesday, this time on purpose, and went for a stroll around Minot.

The Souris River just behind the Dakotah Rose Bed & Breakfast.

I strolled through a residential neighborhood, then headed for downtown. I never made it into downtown proper. I walked across a bridge over the river and a rail yard.

I noticed a stairway that led down into the yard. There didn’t appear to be any signs telling me to keep out, so I climbed down.

I wanted a better angle on the sunrise, so I climbed up onto the wooded walkway visible in the photo above and took this shot. Trains were moving through the area, so I relaxed and enjoyed the view.

When I got to the other end of the bridge, I had to climb over this sign. Rather ominous, but I’m alive to tell the tale. I’m surprised I didn’t get arrested.

On the way back to the house, I passed an abandoned, flood-damaged church that was for sale.

Here’s one of many abandoned houses.

Just down the block from the bed & breakfast, I happened upon a flock of Wild Turkeys on the levy along the river right in the middle of Minot. They watched me cautiously, but made no attempt to leave.

I was back in plenty of time to shower before breakfast.

On Tuesday night we stayed in the Dakotah Rose.

The home was built on the banks of the Souris River in 1906.

The carriage house in the yard is a few years older than the house.

I never got around to taking a photo of our room, but here’s the hallway just outside with a glimpse into the room across the way.

We had a door that led out onto a second-story wrap-around porch that enabled us to look in the windows of other rooms, if we had been so inclined.

The owners operate a candy store out of the parlor. We purchased some chocolate before we left.

My suitcase, packed with enough clothes for eleven days, was heavy. Dragging it up these stairs was no treat.

The dining room where we had breakfast.

We were the only guests at breakfast, so this other room was unused.

The river runs just behind the house. In 2011, a massive flood filled the basement and much of the first floor. The owners were able to move all the furniture upstairs, but some effects of the water can still be seen outside the house.

Freedom Mine, a coal strip-mining operation, is located just north of Beulah. Our friends were friends with a guy whose job with the mine is to work with local landowners. They had arranged for him to give us a tour.

The draglines in the mine were visible from many miles away.

There are two plants by the mine. One crushes the coal to produce natural gas and the other burns it to create electricity.

We piled into an SUV and drove through the security gate. The mine and two plants cover a huge amount of ground. The yellow tractor in this photo is used just to move the giant dump truck tires.

Here’s one of the giant dump trucks unloading coal (that’s why it’s black underneath) into the hopper. Each load is something like 250 tons, and it pours out in about six seconds.

We drove down into the mine where we saw a front-end loader filling one of the trucks.

The draglines were in sight the whole time, but they towered over everything so high it was hard to figure out just where they were located.

We drove back and forth across the mine until we finally came upon one. To help you understand how large this machine is, enlarge the photo below and look for the green tractor parked in front of it.

The dragline weighs 13 million pounds. The boom is 17 stories high and longer than a football field. The bucket could hold 1.5 million golf balls.

After the coal is removed, the land is returned to a close approximation of its original topography, and within a couple years it can be used for farming or grazing.

It was an enlightening experience. I’m amazed by what people can accomplish when they want something badly enough.