The Prairie Blog

Stop me if you’ve heard this. I’ve told this story before. You can just go about your business. Or you can read on and see if I tell it the same way as you heard it last time. The rest of you, I hope you like it.

Eleven and a half years ago, cancer claimed 54-year-old Rita Fuglie, the light of my life. I mourned as husbands do, for months, and then one day my phone rang and it was an old friend named Clay Jenkinson, calling from Reno, Nevada. Months earlier, Clay had read about Rita’s death and had done the most amazing thing. He had taken out the old portable typewriter from his high school days, the one he used when he and I worked together 30 years earlier at the Dickinson Press, and wrote me a long letter on it expressing his sadness at my loss. It had been a long time since I had received a letter typed on a typewriter, and it was very special. I still have it. Now he was calling to say that he was going to do a humanities program at the Knife River Indian Villages in North Dakota that involved camping out in the snow on a January night and he wanted me to do it with him. I had long since gone back to work after my mourning period allowed, but weekends alone in my house were hard, and he knew that. We really hadn’t spent any significant amount of time together since the fall of 1972, when he had gone off to college, and so I welcomed the opportunity not only to escape my house for the weekend but to get reacquainted with him again.

January 19, 2002 was a crisp, bright, cold winter morning when we arrived at the historic site and crunched off through the snow to the bank of the Knife River, where some Tribal Elders from the Three Affiliated Tribes told us stories of earlier days at this abandoned village, now reclaimed and interpreted by the National Park Service.

Clay had another acquaintance on that trip, a woman named Lillian, the Librarian from Dickinson State University, who claimed she was not there to collect a several thousand dollar fine for the books he had borrowed  sometime in the 1970’s and had never returned, although her presence made Clay a little nervous, I think. Before the weekend was over, he promised to retrieve and return the books, and she promised that there would be no fine. Although we didn’t know each other, she, like me, was an experienced winter camper, and interested in the subject at hand, the history of the expedition of Captains Lewis and Clark, whose bicentennial we were just beginning to explore and celebrate. She had come to hear Clay tell us that story in his role as guest humanities scholar. Along with 15 or 20 other brave souls, she and I walked walked beside each other past the rebuilt Mandan Indian Earth Lodge and carried on a casual conversation about Dickinson State.

The day was filled with interesting activities, and ended at a huge campfire on the prairie, where we stood around and shivered and listened to more Mandan, Hidatsa and Arikara stories, and to Clay’s stories of the Lewis and Clark Expedition, who had no doubt stood on the very same ground we were now standing on nearly 200 years earlier. The day before this, I had gone over to the candy store in Mandan and bought a huge supply of chocolate, knowing that a bite of chocolate at 3 in the morning when the nighttime chill, even in spite of our thick sleeping bags, was just getting to be bothersome, would provide enough warmth to get me back to sleep. Luckily, in preparation for the Bicentennial, the candy store had been making chocolate coins wrapped in gold foil with the image of Sacajaewea on them, and I had brought enough for everyone there, so I said to the group around the fire “Well, we’re at the largest Indian Trading Post of the 18^th Century, so I brought trade goods. I will trade this chocolate for whatever you have to trade with me.”

Well, everyone was bundled up in seven layers of fleece, and no one had much, but a few found trinkets, and then Lillian said “In my car, I have a topographic map of Bullion Butte I’ll give you in the morning for one of those coins now.” I was so stunned I nearly dropped all the coins into the snow.

I have climbed Bullion Butte every year since 1976. It is a magical, mystical place to me, and, in fact the last time I had spent any time with Clay was on top of Bullion Butte ten or so years earlier, when we hiked up it on a Bad Lands camping trip. You know that story if you’ve read Clay’s book Message On The Wind. He wrote about it, almost completely accurately, at some length in that book. I doubt she knew what a special place it was for me, nor I, as it turns out, for her. Looking back, I suspect that the spirits of the Mandan, Hidatsa and Arikara tribes that Calvin Grinnell had been talking about earlier around the fire were at work. Neither of us knows to this day why she made that offer, except that it was all she had of value, perhaps, that she didn’t need to keep warm that night. Deal. She got the chocolate. I got the map. We explored a friendship, which became a romance. She dragged me out of a deep funk and taught me how to laugh again. We spent the next two years camping, canoeing, hiking, and yes, climbing Bullion Butte. She had grown up on a ranch just southwest of Bullion Butte. You can almost see it from the top—well, you can see Pretty Butte, and her ranch is about midway between the two. She had gone there often, starting as a little girl on family picnics, and continuing as she grew older and became a North Dakota Outdoors Woman.

And on the afternoon of the Spring Equinox in 2004, we returned to that Mandan Indian Earth Lodge at the Knife River Indian Villages National Historic Site, where we had met, and got married. To this day, we celebrate our anniversary on the day of the Spring Equinox. Today. We’re not sure what that day was in 2004, and we don’t want to look it up, because we just want to celebrate on the Equinox, whenever it falls. It’s generally on the 20^th of March, but it can happen late on the 19^th, or early on the 21^st. Doesn’t matter to us. Just tell us when the Equinox is, we’ll celebrate.

Sometimes we go to the historic site. More often we go to the Bad Lands, where we had our first “date,” at the Elkhorn Ranch, on a cold Saturday in February, and where we’ve set up winter camps in the years since. We’re going there today, to the Elkhorn, a special place for us, and a place which is more and more endangered as the forces of oil advance on its boundary.

We’ll open a bottle of wine, and we’ll toast, and we’ll thank Clay, and Calvin Grinnell and his Indian Spirits that brought us together, and we’ll say thanks for our beloved Bad Lands, and for Bullion Butte, and for our love for each other.

And that’s my story. I hope I’ve told it all right.

Happy Anniversary, Beloved Lillian.

As I mentioned in my story about the proposed oil well to be drilled right beside the Elkhorn Ranch Unit of Theodore Roosevelt National Park, I wanted to clarify the actual process for getting a drilling permit application approved. Today the nice lady at the Industrial Commission office did that for me.

The Oil and Gas Division of the Industrial Commission has scheduled a hearing on March 28 at 9 a.m. to act on requests from oil companies. One of the approximately 150 items on the agenda is a request from XTO Energy for a drilling permit to drill four wells on two sections of land owned by the U.S. Forest Service, immediately adjacent to the Elkhorn Ranch. I wondered whether the hearing officer, who I assume to be Oil and Gas Division Director Lynn Helms, had the authority to issue the drilling permit.

What I learned today is that yes, Helms and his staff have the authority to issue drilling permits, unless they are requested, for a good reason, not to do so. If someone protests the application, and it appears they have a valid reason for protesting, then the request is referred to the three members of the Industrial Commission: Jack Dalrymple, Wayne Stenehjem and Doug Goehring. They have the final say.

I don’t know for sure, but I would think that they would schedule a meeting to discuss this in public, or put it on the agenda for their next meeting. The Industrial Commission’s website says this:

“The tentative Industrial Commission meeting schedule for 2013 is: March 25, April 23, May 28, June 25, July 30, August 21, September 20, October 22, November 26, and December 19, 2013. All meetings are subject to change and additional meetings may be added as needed.”

            So one would have to assume that they would discuss it at their April 23 meeting. Or, if they felt it was urgent, they could schedule a special meeting. In either case, it is going to be important that all of us keep an eye on the Industrial Commission website. Their meeting agendas (which are always subject to change, right up to the last minute before they convene) are posted on the website. The agenda for next Monday’s meeting will be posted this Thursday or Friday. The lady I talked to said she didn’t think they would be discussing anything scheduled to be heard at the Oil and Gas Division hearing next Thursday at Monday’s meeting.

But, it is important that people show up at the meeting next Thursday, the 28^th, to protest this application, and bring good reasons for being against it. If there’s no protest, they can just go ahead and issue the drilling permit. Yikes.

I also received today some photos of the site and some new information from the National Park Service. They sent a ranger up there to take a look at things. The first picture I’m posting here clearly shows the stakes in the ground. The stake with the orange ribbon attached to it is in the center of the drilling site. The ranger said it appears to be about 1000 feet from the Elkhorn Ranch parking lot. The ranch site is where the trees are in the background. If you click on the photo to see a larger version, you can see a vehicle in the parking lot and the entrance sign to the site. The Maah Daah Hey Trail runs along the ridgeline above the ranch. Won’t that be a pretty view from the top of the hill? But keep in mind that stake is at the CENTER of the well site. The second picture shows one of the corner stakes, which is about 100 feet from the ranch site boundary. You can actually see a couple of the posts from the boundary fence just above the sagebrush on the right side of the photo. Again, that’s the ranch site in the background. So from that information, we can gather that the well pad will be approximately 1800 feet across—more than a third of a mile square. Huge. Full of pumps and tanks and buildings and all the detritus that you find on a well pad. Just 100 feet away from the National Park. It almost defies comprehension.

A Park Service spokesperson said today “The corner of the giant well pad, if actually developed where they have staked it, is only 100 feet from the park’s Elkhorn Ranch Unit.  The center is 1000 feet away.  That shows how huge the well pad would be. There is flagging indicating the center, corners and a proposed realignment of the Elkhorn Ranch access road.”

“Suffice to say,” the spokesperson continued “this may be the biggest threat to any single unit of the park in the history of the park.  The trucking events (2000 per well) required down that access road alone would destroy the ambiance.”

That would be 8,000 trips down the hill with water trucks to frack this well and remove waste water. And then the wells would be there for 30 or 40 years. Needless to say, it would be the end of Theodore Roosevelt’s Elkhorn Ranch Site as we know it.

The Park service fully intends to try to convince the Oil and Gas Division, and the Industrial Commission (Boy, is that board earning its name these days!) not to allow this to happen. The problem is, XTO has a right to their oil, and there may not be another place for them to put a well pad of this size. As I said the other day, this is very rugged Bad Lands.

If they were to move the well pad just a little more than two miles west, there’s another flat spot beside the road. That’s where the Forest Service’s Elkhorn Campground is, a campground used by thousands of campers every year who are hiking or bicycling riding their horses on the Maah Daah Hey Trail.

I’m still going to try to get out there to take a look this week. I’ll report back if I get there. It’s too darned cold to go right now. Meanwhile, let me suggest that if it stays this cold, and you don’t feel like going outside, and want to curl up in front of the fire and do a little reading, grab a copy of Ed Abbey’s The Monkey Wrench Gang. It’s a pretty easy read, and kind of fun, too. Just remember, it’s FICTION.

See you next Thursday.

BISMARCK, ND—North Dakota’s Governor today vetoed what would have been the strictest anti-abortion bill in the nation. The bill would have banned abortions except in cases of rape, incest or if the mother’s life was in danger.

            ”History is full of accounts of the misuse of governmental power, often for a ‘good’ cause,” the Governor said in his veto message, issued less than two hours after he formally received the bill. “Such abuse must be resisted vigorously on both sides. Government must not overstep its bounds. It must not play God.”

            The Governor, a farmer from Casselton in Cass County who enjoys generally wide popularity and was returned to the office in the last election by a wide margin, was facing the first abortion bill to come to his desk since taking office.

            The Governor, who has said he is personally against abortion, was barred by the North Dakota Constitution from threatening a veto. He said earlier that the bill went ”too far.”

No, I’m not predicting what Jack Dalrymple will do this week when faced with signing or vetoing a bill that has been called the “strictest anti-abortion bill in the nation.” I’m reprinting the quotes from Governor George Sinner in the first few paragraphs of an April 2, 1991 story in the New York Times. To quote further from the AP story:

Sinner, a Roman Catholic and father of 10 who once considered studying to be a priest, referred to statements on abortion from eight religious denominations in his four-page veto message.

            ”Although throughout history Catholic writings on when life begins vary widely, I agree with the current Catholic judgment that abortion is wrong,” Sinner said. ”The issue here, however, is the role of law.”

            The legislation declares that life begins at conception, but many people dispute when life begins, Sinner said.

            ”Government policy must find a balanced way which respects the freedom of women in this difficult area,” he said. ”This bill does not do so.”

Well, that’s what a courageous chief executive does when faced with a difficult decision. Sinner also knew, of course, as does Dalrymple, that if he signed the bill, he was committing the state to a lengthy and expensive legal challenge. And he knew that the state was unlikely to win that battle, and that the state would be the subject of some scorn and ridicule, and be viewed as a “backwoods” state for even making the attempt.

Fast forward 22 years, and numerous fruitless legal challenges to Roe V. Wade, the law of the land when it comes to abortion. The fact that both Governors are Cass County farmers is about where the similarities end. I don’t know what Dalrymple will do this week, but I know he’s getting a lot of mail, e-mail and phone messages.

A friend of mine, who’s also a friend of Jack’s (imagine that—he’s one open-minded man) sent me a copy of the letter he sent to Jack yesterday. Here’s what it said:

Dear Jack,
I doubt very much that you will listen to my appeal to you, but I am asking you to veto the ridiculous, and, most likely, unconstitutional abortion bills, passed by this Legislature, the very worst on record for smiting human rights. I have supported you. I voted for you. Please do not become an accomplice to the most horrible anti-human rights person in the history of the North Dakota Senate, Margaret Sitte, whom I know personally. And loath.
She is just plain mean. The meanest of mean. While proclaiming Christianity.
From the several occasions when we have had the opportunity to meet, one time, with your son, at (a hunting club), you were very friendly and struck me as a man of reason. I certainly enjoyed our hunt together.

            You are the only official left who can take a stand for personal rights in North Dakota. You are the only one left to keep us from being the laughing stock of the nation for discriminating against anyone who is not heterosexual, or the machinations of Margaret Sitte, who wants the state, in her own law, to dictate what a woman can do with her own reproductive organs.
I hope you will not let me down on this.

            Sincerely,

Well. My friend is not alone in sending a stern message to Jack Dalrymple. Here’s a paragraph from the editorial in Sunday’s Forum of Fargo Moorhead, whose viewpoint is generally pretty conservative, commenting on two remaining abortion bills still alive in the Legislature, as well as the two that have passed:

Two bills in the North Dakota Legislature violate basic precepts of conservative Republican doctrine. The misnamed “personhood” bill and a proposed constitutional amendment (for the ballot) that purports to define life “at any stage of development” are outrageous intrusions of government into the most private and personal issues facing North Dakotans. Both measures should be defeated on that basis alone. Two related bills, which are equally ill-advised, earlier passed the House and Senate. Gov. Jack Dalrymple should veto both.

Of course, the Forum’s position is that of true conservatives—decrying intrusions of government into private and personal issues. It’s the adjective “outrageous” that caught my attention.

Way back in my life when I lived in Mandan, my State Senator was a truly conservative man named Jan Dykshoorn, one of the most consistent and principled conservatives I’ve ever known. During Jan’s one term in the State Senate, a bill similar to the one Governor Sinner vetoed came to the floor of the Senate. When the vote was taken, Senator Dykshoorn voted “No.” After the vote, feeling a bit surprised, I went over to congratulate him. I said “Senator, I am very proud of you today, and very proud you are my Senator.”

He replied “Jim, the government has no business telling a woman what she can or can’t do with her body.”

The Forum did another interesting thing this week. On Friday, it published an article entitled “Abortion in America and North Dakota since 1973.” It is a chronology of activities in North Dakota surrounding the abortion issue since January 22, 1973, the date of the Roe v. Wade decision. Here’s a link to the story, but because the Forum disappears their stories after just a few days unless you want to pay to read them, I’m just tacking the entire chronology onto the end of this article. It’s pretty interesting. You will read the next entry in their chronology sometime this week.

Abortion in America and North Dakota since 1973

By: Forum staff reports, INFORUM

            Jan. 22, 1973: U.S. Supreme Court rules on Roe v. Wade, legalizing abortion.

            1975: Jane Bovard heads up North Dakota chapter of National Abortion & Reproductive Rights Action League.

            1976: National abortion rights group Women’s Health Organization formed.

            Oct. 1, 1981: With help from WHO, Bovard opens Fargo’s first abortion clinic. Anti-abortion protests and prayers begin a few days later.

            Oct. 1983: Fargo Women’s Health Organization hires private security to deal with picketers.

            April 1984: Fargo WHO asks city for picketing regulations in response to protesters blocking entrances.

            June 1984: Protesters begin picketing Jane Bovard’s north Fargo home.

            Nov. 1984: Fargo Mayor Jon Lindgren introduces city ordinance that would prohibit residential picketing.

            Dec. 1984: Anti-abortion activist Darold Larson arrested for criminal trespass after entering Fargo WHO dressed as Santa Claus.

            Sept. 1987: 5,000 people gather for peaceful abortion protest outside Fargo WHO.

            Nov. 1988: West Fargo man indicted by federal grand jury for August 1987 attempted firebombing of Fargo WHO clinic. Pleads guilty and sentenced to two months in prison.

            July 1989: U.S. Supreme Court gives states the potential authority to limit abortion.

            Dec. 1989: 12 people arrested outside Fargo WHO for criminal trespass after blocking entrance to clinic.

            Feb. 1991: North Dakota Legislature passes toughest anti-abortion legislation in nation, banning abortion except in cases of rape, incest or when mother’s life in danger.

            March 1991: Twenty-six abortion protesters arrested after entering Fargo WHO and chaining themselves together at the neck with Kryptonite bike locks.

            April 1991: Gov. George Sinner vetoes anti-abortion legislation but signs informed consent law mandating 24-hour waiting period and women seeking abortion to receive informational materials about the procedure and alternatives.

            May 31, 1991: Lambs of Christ make first appearance at Fargo WHO. Two dozen abortion protesters arrested after storming clinic and attaching themselves to steel pipes and metal boxes, requiring locksmiths to free them.

            June 1991: Fargo WHO files lawsuit against Gov. Sinner and Attorney General Nick Spaeth over abortion restriction law.

            Aug. 24, 1991: Federal Judge Rodney Webb grants preliminary injunction, delaying enforcement of informed consent law.

            Oct. 25, 1991: Fargo WHO wins restraining order and temporary injunction severely limiting picketing at clinic.

            Nov. 21, 1991: Forty-five protesters arrested outside Fargo WHO for disobeying judicial order.

            April 1992: Firebomb causes minor damage to Fargo WHO.

            Jan. 1993: President Bill Clinton signs executive orders loosening abortion restrictions on 20th anniversary of Roe v. Wade.

            Aug. 1993: Abortion protester from Oregon, who spent time in Cass County Jail in 1991 for Fargo WHO protests, is charged with attempted murder in shooting of doctor outside Wichita, Kan., abortion clinic.

            Feb. 1994: Eighth U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals upholds North Dakota informed consent law.

            May 1994: Congress approves legislation making it a federal crime to block access to an abortion clinic, or use force or threats against employees or patients. President Clinton signs Freedom of Access to Clinic Entrances act.

            July 30, 1994: Doctor and security escort shot and killed outside Pensacola abortion clinic. Anti-abortion activist arrested. U.S. Marshals brought in to guard abortion clinics nationwide.

            March 1995: Federal Magistrate Karen Klein strikes down 16-year-old North Dakota law prohibiting state-funded abortions, except when necessary to save a woman’s life.

            1997: Jane Bovard parts ways with Fargo WHO.

            July 1998: Bovard opens Red River Women’s Clinic at 512 1st. Ave. N., Fargo, along with retired abortion doctor George Miks and a silent partner.

            Jan. 2001: Fargo WHO clinic closes, citing business and financial reasons, again leaving the city with one abortion facility.

            Feb. 2003: U.S. Supreme Court ruling lifts nationwide ban on protests that interfere with abortion clinic business.

            Jan. 2005: North Dakota lawmaker introduces bill calling for anyone who performs an abortion to be charged with murder.

            March 2006: Abortion protester Martin Wishnatsky posts pictures on the Internet of patients entering Red River Women’s Clinic.

            Sept. 2007: First annual 40 Days for Life vigil is held in Fargo, held in part by Catholic Diocese of Fargo.

            Sept. 2008: RRWC uses clinic escorts for the first time, during 40 Days for Life vigil.

            June 2011: Fargo Catholic Diocese opens chapel in building neighboring the RRWC. Offers Mass every Wednesday, the day abortions are performed.

            Aug. 2011: RRWC granted restraining order in its lawsuit against new state law limiting medication-induced abortions. Trial set for April 2013.

            Friday: The North Dakota Senate approved banning abortions as early as six weeks into a pregnancy, sending what would be the most stringent abortion restrictions in the U.S. to Gov. Jack Dalrymple for his signature.

Here’s a correction and a little more information on what I wrote yesterday about the XTO application to drill for oil beside the Elkhorn Ranch.

The hearing on XTO’s application is in front of the Oil and Gas Division of the North Dakota Industrial Commission, not the full Industrial Commission itself. That means the oil company will be asking Lynn Helms for a drilling permit. Gee, I wonder how that will turn out.

I don’t know for sure if Helms’ decision is final, or if his bosses, Jack Dalrymple, Doug Goehring and Wayne Stenehjem have to sign off on it later, at a full Industrial Commission meeting. I’ll find that out Monday when the Capitol is open for business, and I can call and get an answer, unless someone reading this already knows that, and can put the answer in the comments section below, or send me an e-mail (jimfuglie@hotmail.com) and I’ll put the information here.

The Oil and Gas Division is not housed in the Capitol Building, as I said yesterday. It is in a fancy new office building up in North Bismarck. The address is 1000 East Calgary Avenue. The easiest way to explain where it’s at is, go west of Ruby Tuesday Restaurant on Calgary. You can also get there from the west by going North on Washington to Calgary and heading east. The building is kind of tucked into a semi-residential area and a little bit hard to find.

I’m pointing this out because a friend of mine who knows about this stuff says this could end up being the subject of a lawsuit if XTO gets the permit, a suit between the state and federal government, or a civil suit filed by people who have an interest in protecting Theodore Roosevelt National Park. If that is the case, it is important, this friend says, that there be plenty of testimony put into the record at any hearing held by the Oil and Gas Division or the Industrial Commission. Testimony about why this permit should not be issued. Or testimony about other ways of getting the oil out—with horizontal drilling, for example—by siting any wells a longer distance from the Park. Technology exists to do that, of course.

We all know that mineral ownership supersedes surface ownership, and the lessee has a right to get the oil out from under the surface. The question here, it seems, is “Is it right to drill oil wells right on the boundary of a National Park?” Especially a National Park which was the home of Theodore Roosevelt, our great conservation president.

I hope a big crowd turns out for the 9 a.m. hearing March 28.

There’s another interesting aspect to this, which was pointed out in comments I received on yesterday’s blog post. One of the commenters said that Jack Dalrymple owns stock in Exxon Mobil, which is the parent company of XTO, the company who wants to drill for oil beside the Elkhorn. I don’t know if that’s true or not, but I have no reason to doubt the commenter’s knowledge of such a fact. If it is true, it would seem that a vote by Dalrymple to grant a permit to drill for oil would be a gross conflict of interest. And if it’s so, Dalrymple is already guilty, because XTO has already received lots of drilling permits from the North Dakota Industrial Commission. Again, I’m not sure of the legalities here, but some attorney can probably help clear it up. It only is a problem in a state like North Dakota when you have a really, really rich Governor. That describes Dalrymple. Rich people buy stock in a lot of companies. And Oil companies, these days, seem like a good bet. Every time a company like XTO drills a well, oil starts flowing, profits go up, and stockholders benefit.

So I suppose somebody should ask Dalrymple if he does own stock in Exxon Mobil, and any other oil companies doing business in North Dakota. That would begin to explain his enthusiasm for the oil industry. Of course, as Governor of our state, he wants the oil companies to do well, so they pay their taxes to help state government. But if he’s driven by more than that—wanting the oil companies to do well so they pay him hefty dividends—then he loses some of his objectivity. As Governor, he’s also charged with the responsibility of making sure the oil companies do things right, and of protecting the interests of the people of North Dakota, which means being concerned about our air, water, land, wildlife, and quality of life. As a stockholder, he says “screw those things, just make my dividend checks as big as possible.” Dalrymple did, incidentally, take a couple of campaign donations from Exxon Mobil, at least $2,600 that I’ve been able to spot on the Secretary of State’s website. Some of their executives may have added to that total, but it’s hard to track them unless you know who works for the company.

Anyway, I’ll put more here about the process of XTO getting a permit to put four oil wells beside Theodore Roosevelt’s cabin site as soon as I get more information. For now, let’s tell all of our friends to show up at 1000 East Calgary Avenue at 9 a.m. Thursday, March 28.  Just west of Ruby Tuesday’s. We can all stop there for lunch after it’s over.

Okay, next crisis. There seems to be one every day for people like us who are concerned about the impact the oil industry is having on western North Dakota. Negative impact, that is. There are lots of positive impacts. I take note of those, and am grateful, like every other North Dakotan. It’s the negative impacts I worry about, and write about here.

Late last year, you read in the papers and saw on TV the stories about the North Dakota Industrial Commission, which is the three state officials who approve permits to drill for oil in North Dakota, granting permission for oil companies to drill for oil in Little Missouri State Park. A few people raised a ruckus, but the drilling is proceeding.

Earlier this year, you read about a group of Dunn County citizens who were concerned about the Industrial Commission granting a permit to drill for oil in the Killdeer Mountains. The citizens attended the Industrial Commission hearing and had their say. Their say was, “this is a bad place to drill for oil.” The Industrial Commission thanked them for their input and said they would take the permit application under advisement and make a decision sometime in the future. The Dunn County citizens got in their cars and headed home for supper. Before they had gotten past new Salem, the Industrial Commission brought the matter back up and voted to approve the permit. The Dunn County citizens read about it in the paper the next morning. Everyone I talked to the next day agreed it was one of the most chickenshit things state officials in North Dakota had done in a long, long time, maybe ever. For the record, the three men who did that are named Jack Dalrymple, Wayne Stenehjem and Douglas Goehring.

Well, there’s going to be another Industrial Commission hearing on Thursday, March 28, at 9 a.m., at the North Dakota Capitol, at which time they are going to be asked for a drilling permit for another really bad place to drill for oil. This time, it is right beside the Elkhorn Ranch Unit of Theodore Roosevelt National Park. And I mean RIGHT BESIDE. I mean, when you drive your car down the gravel road into the Elkhorn Ranch, and pull into the little parking lot, and up to the gate to the walking trail down to Theodore Roosevelt’s cabin site, and get out of your car, there’s going to be an oil well beside the passenger side door of your car. RIGHT THERE. If the Industrial Commission grants the permit. No kidding.

If you look at the docket for the hearing on March 28, you’ll find, buried way down near the end, on page 22 of a 24 page document, Case No. 19996. It reads “Application of XTO Energy Inc. for an order authorizing the drilling, completing and producing of a total of four wells on an existing 1280-acre spacing unit described as Sections 5 and 6, T. 143 N., R. 102W., Morgan Draw-Bakken Pool, Billing County, ND . . .”

Luckily for us, someone actually reads all 24 pages of these dockets, looking for danger signals like this one. In this case, that someone happened to be an employee of the National Park Service, who thought to himself or herself, I don’t know which, “Hmmm, that description looks familiar. I know where that’s at.” The National Park Service is the federal agency which manages Theodore Roosevelt’s Elkhorn cabin site. Which just happens to be located in . . .you guessed it . . . Section 5, T. 143N., R. 102W, Billings County, ND.

That sharp-eyed employee, in a recent visit to the Elkhorn Ranch site, discovered that, long before the Industrial Commission has made its decision on whether or not to approve the drilling permit, XTO Energy has already been to the site and put stakes in the ground for a proposed oil well on U.S. Forest Service land directly adjacent to the Elkhorn Ranch, very close to the small parking lot.

I’m attaching a map to this story which shows the location of the Elkhorn Ranch. The two sections being discussed for drilling by XTO are outlined by me in red. The sections shaded green on this map are owned by the U.S. Forest Service. Purple is National Park Service. Blue is the North Dakota Parks and Recreation Department. White is privately owned land. As you can see, the U.S. Forest Service owns almost all of Sections 5 and 6, except for just a little bit of the upper right hand corner of the section. XTO holds the mineral leases on those two sections, for which they paid a good deal of money. Now they’ve decided it is time to get their money back—and then some—by drilling four oil wells there.  The Elkhorn Ranch site, which is only 70 or 80 acres, actually has little pieces of four different sections. The little piece in section 5 is where the parking lot is. If you look carefully, you can see the red-dotted line coming in from the west right up to the edge of the purple. That’s the gravel road to the parking lot. I haven’t been out there yet to see the stakes, but the Park Service employee says they are right there by that road, right close to the parking lot.

If you’ve ever driven in on that road to the Elkhorn site, you know that sections 5 and 6, through which the road passes, are very rugged, full of hills and gullies. Real Bad Lands. But just before you get to the Elkhorn site, you come down a big hill and there’s a nice flat area as you approach the parking lot, probably 30 or 40 acres. Just big enough for a pad holding four oil wells, a bunch of tanks and all the other apparatus that goes with an oil well site. There are not many other places in those two sections –in fact, I don’t think there are any—that would be suitable for an oil well pad. I’m going to go out there and look for myself next week.

The Maah Daah Hey Trail, one of the most famous hiking and bicycling trails in America, also runs throughout the length of these two sections, so I would guess the Forest Service would be concerned about the well site as well. It’s the borken red line running through the two sections.

In fact, a friend of mine at the Park Service said the two agencies have talked about this, and the Forest Service says not to get too excited because nothing has been approved yet. Huh. Never mind that the stakes are in the ground for a well site. And with the permit application moving forward, it is obvious XTO is going to drill somewhere in those two sections, IMMEDIATELY ADJACENT TO THE ELKHORN RANCH. If the Industrial Commission gives them a permit. IF.

There’s another interesting angle at work here as well. The North Dakota Parks Department manages the land on the North and South sides of the Elkhorn. One would think that agency would be concerned about this, and be talking to the boss over in the Capitol about it. Seems to me the Industrial Commission would surely want to know how the state’s own Parks Department feels about this. At least in most states they would.

This isn’t the only threat to the Elkhorn, of course. You’ve already read here about the proposed gravel pit just across the river, and the proposed bridge cross the Little Missouri right beside the Elkhorn. From what I can tell, the preferred location for the bridge would be about 500 yards from where the stakes for the new oil well are. Well, isn’t that conveeeeeeenient, as the Church Lady used to say.

This is not just a North Dakota issue. National organizations like the Theodore Roosevelt Association and the Boone and Crocket Club have been involved in the resistance effort on the gravel pit and the bridge. I hope they will get involved on this one as well.

My friends in the Park Service are using words like “imminent threat ” and “extremely serious.” Rightfully so. Four oil wells this close to one of the nation’s most revered conservation spots is pretty much unthinkable.  Anywhere but North Dakota. Here, they’re thinking about it.

Please put the date on your calendar. Please come and let your state officials know this is a really bad idea. But don’t leave early.

There’s a big building on the edge of downtown Bismarck that’s home to many civic functions, concerts, basketball tournaments and recreational uses by the community. But it’s not big enough, in the minds of Bismarck city leaders, for the kinds of events the city is capable of hosting. Seating is too limited. It should be expanded to make room for more uses, but parking is a problem at the current location if the expansion takes place.

Everyone agrees that we need to do have a better facility. But should we expand the current facility, or build a new one? Well, the people should vote on it, city leaders decide. An election is held. Nothing comes of the proposal, and the city commission keeps on discussing.

Finally, a wealthy businessman steps forward and offers a plan for a much larger new building, finds the land for it, and offers to provide some start-up money. More discussion takes place.  Another wealthy family steps up and offers some land, enough for a new facility that will be one of the biggest in the state, with enough seating for the biggest basketball tournaments, conventions and concerts.

Sound like a summary of what you’ve been reading in the Bismarck Tribune lately? Sorry. Go back in time 55 years.

This story started in 1958, when wealthy Bismarck businessman Harold Schafer wrote a letter to the Bismarck City Commission saying the city’s expansion plan for the World War Memorial Building to be converted into a youth and civic center was inadequate for a city like Bismarck. Here’s the first paragraph of a Bismarck Tribune story dated September 23, 1958:

“A massive downtown civic and youth center, a year-round swimming pool, an ice skating rink and an auditorium seating 10,000 persons, has been proposed for Bismarck by Harold Schafer, prominent local businessman. The idea was broached in a letter to the Bismarck City Commission and the Burleigh County Board of Commissioners.”

The story goes on to say that Schafer would be willing to donate $50,000 or 5 per cent of the cost, whichever would be greater, to the project.

“Schafer said he didn’t believe that the sort of structure he had in mind—one that could handle future population expansion—could be attained by merely enlarging the present World War Memorial Building,” the Tribune reported.  “A plan to expand the Memorial Building for a youth and civic center has already been approved by the city commission and the county commissioners.”

The story went on to quote Schafer: “I don’t think this can be done by expanding the Memorial Building. But I personally don’t care if they do build it there—or where they build it. Just as long as it is large enough for all the kids and in a place where they can all reach it.”

His proposal included a swimming pool and skating rink and “some sort of a teen canteen, exclusively for the use of young people; an auditorium with a seating capacity of not less than 10,000 for conventions, basketball tournaments, etc., and large parking facilities, either in a sub-basement or on the roof, or both.”

How’s that for a big idea in 1958 for Bismarck?

His proposed location was on the block between Rosser Avenue and Avenue A, and Third and Fourth Streets (where the big MDU building is now—it wasn’t there then), because half the block was owned by the Elks Club, and they would be asked to donate it.

“In commenting on the proposal, Mayor Evan Lips said Tuesday he thought the proposal was ‘similar to what we had in mind,’” The Tribune reported. “Of course, we know what it costs to maintain the Memorial Building. We don’t know what it will cost for any new structure. And this money has to come from taxes.” Lips added that the city already owns the property adjacent to the Memorial Building.

Well.

If you’ve been reading the Bismarck Tribune lately, you see lots of similarities between then and now. The ultimate decision and solution, then as now, was a long time coming. According to the book History of the City of Bismarck North Dakota, by George F. Bird and Edwin J. Taylor, published by the Bismarck Centennial Association in 1972, in the end, the city ended up buying two city blocks of property from the Wachter brothers south of the railroad tracks in 1965. The Wachters then donated three additional blocks for parking. But that was not the end of the contentious Civic Center story. It did indeed take three city elections to finally determine where the Civic Center would go, and finally, on June 26, 1967, “the voters settled the matter and determined that it would be constructed on the site near Fifth and Front (the Wachter land),” according to Bird and Taylor.

Incidentally, the book reports, “David M. Heskett, President of the Montana Dakota Utilities Co., announced on August 17, 1967 (just two months after the city election) that a new office building would be built in Bismarck to house the company’s general offices.” That building, still a downtown anchor today, was built on the spot Schafer had first proposed for the new Civic Center—but not until an alternative site had been selected for the Civic Center.

The Civic Center was completed in 1969, and the first Class A basketball tournament to be held there opened on March 9, 1970. Harold’s donation to the city eventually went to complete the new swimming pool.

There was no one more pleased than Harold Schafer when, after years of debate and discussion, the Civic Center opened its doors in 1969, eleven years after his first proposal to the city commission. Today, of course, it does have seating for 10,000, as Harold envisioned back in 1958, but it has been eclipsed by other facilities around the state, and city fathers are debating whether to expand the current facility or build a new, bigger one, on land to be donated by another wealthy businessman. This one is no Harold Schafer, though. This one owns a section of land way out on the north edge of town, and by donating a piece of that section for a new Civic Center, he stands to make a fortune by increasing the value of the rest of that section for commercial purposes.

There’s been one election. The city commission is taking some tentative steps toward expansion of the existing facility. I won’t be surprised if there’s another election. Or two.

And I bet Harold Schafer and Evan Lips and Dave Heskett, some of the greatest leaders this city ever had, still get together for some Heavenly coffee from time to time, and the three of them are keeping a close eye on the proceedings.

There is an AP story about the 2013 North Dakota Moose and Elk License Proclamation on the Grand Forks Herald’s website today that is very confusing to me. The story is basically a short version of the press release sent out by the North Dakota Game and Fish Department this past Monday. It says that there will be just 111 moose licenses available in North Dakota this year, 32 fewer than last year.

The story says “Game and Fish Department officials say the drop in moose tags is due in part to a downward population trend in the northeastern part of the state.”

The GFD press release quotes Randy Kreil, Game and Fish Department wildlife chief, saying “a downward population trend in the northeastern portion of the state is of great concern. Unit M1C will remain closed, and in addition, unit M4, which encompasses the Turtle Mountains, is also closed this year.”

Well, what the press release doesn’t say is that Unit M1C has  been closed for at least four years (maybe longer—I couldn’t find the 2009 proclamation, but subsequent ones show the unit was closed in 2010 and has not re-opened).

What the press release also doesn’t say is that the Department has only been issuing seven tags in Unit M4 the last three years, so the drop in licenses in that unit (primarily the Turtle Mountains) only accounts for 7 of the 32 fewer tags being issued this year. What about the other 25?

Let’s review the Moose Proclamation for the past four years.

In 2010, there were a total of 173 moose tags issued. Of those, more than half, 90 of them, were in Units M10 and M11, an area basically described as everything in Northwest North Dakota north of Lake Sakakawea and west of U.S. Highway 83. You can see the map here by scrolling down to the bottom of the proclamation. Looks a lot like the map of the Bakken Oil Field, doesn’t it?

In 2011, the Department issued 160 tags, a drop of 13. The total for Units M10 and M11 that year was 77, a drop of–you guessed it–13. All the other units remained the same as the previous year.

In 2012, the total number of tags was 143, a drop of 17. That year, the Department merged Unit M11 into Unit M10, (you can see the map here, again if you scroll all the way down to the bottom) and even made it larger by extending the southern boundary down to Highway 200, and they issued a total of 70 tags for the new unit, M10. That’s 7 fewer than the previous year. The other drop (10) was in Unit M8, east of the Turtle Mountains.

This year, the number of total tags is down to 111, 32 less than last year. That’s a huge drop, almost 25 per cent, in just one year. Of that number, 50 are in Unit M10, which is 20 fewer than last year. (Here’s the map—it’s basically the same as the 2012 version.) That’s a drop in that unit of more than 25 per cent in one year.

To review, then:

The total number of moose tags issued in North Dakota has dropped from 173 to 111 since 2010, a drop of 36 per cent over four years, and the total number of tags in Unit M10—which just happens to be almost the exact land area as the Bakken Oil Formation—has dropped from 90 to 50—almost in half, in the same period of time.

And if you go back and look at the press release that has accompanied the proclamation each of those years, you will find pretty much the same statement from Game and Fish: “Game and Fish Department officials say the drop in moose tags is due in part to a downward population trend in the northeastern part of the state.”

You could look it up. You could go back and Google and find all those press releases. Or you could just trust me. Because I did it.

WTF?

Do they think we’re stupid? Don’t they think that someone like me might actually do the math?

Then there’s this: If you listen to Randy Kreil on this week’s Game and Fish Dept. webcast,  he says, about 3 minutes into the webcast, the drop in moose licenses is “primarily in the north and west part of the state.”

He said that the same day as the press release went out, which said, as I quoted it earlier,  “Randy Kreil, Game and Fish Department wildlife chief, said a downward population trend in the northeastern portion of the state is of great concern. Unit M1C will remain closed, and in addition, unit M4, which encompasses the Turtle Mountains, is also closed this year.” Here’s the whole press release. Do you think maybe they ought to have “great concern” about the moose population in the Oil Patch?

And why two different, conflicting stories on the same day? Could it possibly be that Game and Fish Director Terry Steinwand and Jack Dalrymple, or his chief of staff, Ron Rauschenberger, have to approve the press releases before they go out, but they just weren’t in the room when Randy made the video with Game and Fish PR flack Tom Jensen? Do ya suppose?

Dammit, Randy Kreil is a good guy. As long as I’ve known him, he’s been a straight shooter. But there’s just something going on at Game and Fish that we simply cannot tolerate any more. They are supposed to be on OUR side.

Yes, you read that right: there are two sides now. There’s the oil industry and its lackeys—Jack Dalrymple, Lynn Helms, and, I fear now, Terry Steinwand, who, you will recall, sat on an unfavorable report done by his own scientists for almost a year because his bosses didn’t want us to read bad news about how the oil industry is impacting our wildlife—and then there are the rest of us North Dakotans, who are just watching our way of life disappear, and we’re helpless to do anything about it, because those who are supposed to be looking out for the good of the state and its people are on the wrong side.

That 2010 report, you will recall, dealt mostly with mule deer, elk, and several other species, but conveniently left out the industry’s impact on moose. Well, I’m no scientist, but the simple Google research I just did this morning paints a pretty clear picture of a big problem with our moose population.

And speaking of elk, the next to last sentence in the AP story this morning reads like this:  “The cutback in the number of elk licenses continues a reduction program that began in 2010 in Theodore Roosevelt National Park. “

Would somebody explain to me what that sentence even means?

Earlier this week I wrote about the problem with Bighorn Sheep being run down by oil trucks. I hadn’t really intended for this to become a hunting blog, but if I get time one of these days, I’m going to take a look at elk licenses. Anyone want to guess what I’m going to find?

Update 4 p.m. March 13:

Randy Kreil responded to my blog with this e-mail:

It was simply an oversight when we sent out the press release.  It’s clear we were not clear and that the webcast comments did not match up with the news release.  What we should have said in the news release is that in addition to the decline in the northeast we also are concerned about what we believe is a declining population trend in the northwest. We did not have an actual moose aerial survey block in this area until this year when we established one because we did not have a source for any real hard data. We intend to fly it every year to get a better handle on the actual trend.  I am as much to blame as anyone if not more for this confusion because I reviewed the news release before it went out and did not catch the omission.  It was a bad mistake and I will take the hit for it because I deserve it.  The webcast came out just prior to the news release and I should have made sure they were exactly the same.  There is nothing to hide here but simply an oversight. I have been telling people all week about a suspected decline in moose in the northwest and our decision to reduce licenses.

Note from Jim: I will ask him, as soon as I can, what the science is behind the drastic reduction in the licenses in Unit M10. Game and Fish almost always makes biological decisions, based on hard evidence, regarding license numbers. I have never seen any reference to “concern about what we believe is a declining population trend in the northwest” in any Game and Fish publication or news release. If there is, I hope Randy can show it to me.

Count Bighorn Sheep as another casualty of North Dakota’s oil boom.

The North Dakota Game and Fish Department has moved what’s left of a herd of Bighorn Sheep away from heavily traveled U.S. Highway 85 in the North Dakota Bad Lands to protect them from the heavy truck traffic on the highway.

The move comes after at least six—and likely more—of  the rare crittters have been killed by vehicles in the last couple of years. Brett Wiedman, a Big Game Management Biologist for GFD stationed in Dickinson, said this week “We know we’ve lost six, but I suspect there’s a lot more we don’t know about.”

The sheep were introduced into an area along the Little Missouri River just east of the North Unit of Theodore Roosevelt National Park in 2006. Wiedman said they started with 19 of them in 2006, and the herd grew to 43 by 2009. But by 2010, increased traffic on Highway 85—a major corridor for trucks serving North Dakota’s oil fields—began taking a toll on the herd, so 14 of them were moved to another area of the Bad Lands, away from the highway. 20 were left behind, but their numbers continued to decline, so the rest of the herd, about 15 animals—all but one of which were females or lambs—was moved last year. There were no mature rams—the trophy that North Dakota hunters seek—left in the herd, Wiedman said.

North Dakota issues four Bighorn Sheep tags to hunters who apply in a lottery drawing each year. In past years the number has been higher, but as the herd population has declined, so has the number of licenses.  The department gets about 10,000 applications each year for those licenses, so the odds of getting one aren’t great. To further diminish the odds, one of the four is donated to the Foundation For North American Wild Sheep to be auctioned off as a fundraiser with the proceeds going to the Game and Fish Department to help pay for their work with the herd here. So only three of those 10,000 applicants get to hunt a Bighorn Sheep each year.  Based on Wiedman’s observations, it appears at least that many of the sheep, and probably more, are taken by vehicles.

Randy Kreil, Wildlife Division Chief, said in an online video posted on the Department’s website last Thursday that he had hoped to increase the number of licenses to six or seven this year, but the loss of six rams on Highway 85 put an end to that. The news created a buzz in the Capitol hallways last Friday when hunters and conservationists gathered in the Capitol to testify on a pair of bills dealing with the establishment of an Outdoor Heritage Fund, using some of the proceeds the state collects from taxes on oil. Game and Fish officials had been keeping the news pretty quiet, in keeping with Jack Dalrymple’s dictate to state officials to keep bad news about the oil boom to a minimum, but Kreil had no choice but to talk about it because the application period for those licenses has now opened.

There are two bills dealing with the Outdoor Heritage concept, an idea which emerged last year in the form of an initiated measure that was waylaid by sponsors of the measure submitting—unknowingly—a number of petitions with fake names on them. One of the bills this session had the backing of Jack Dalrymple and the Republicans, calling for ten million dollars a year to be set aside for conservation practices—about one tenth of what the sponsors of the initiated measure had been seeking. Dalrymple’s bill was amended in the North Dakota House of Representatives to fifteen million and sent to the Senate for consideration. No word yet on whether Dalrymple will sign it if comes to him in that form. The other, sponsored by Senate Democrats, seeks to have the public vote on a fund of about 80 million a year, closer to what the state’s conservation community sought.

Both, in my opinion, have governance problems. Both measures call for unwieldy boards to administer the money. My guess is, one way or another, we’re going to get a chance to vote on the idea in 2014. And if we approve such a fund, some of the money will likely go to improving or protecting habitat of our big game animals. I haven’t heard any numbers on Mule Deer-vehicle encounters yet, but the number certainly is large enough to cause concern to both hunters and game management officials. Mule deer licenses have been cut drastically the last couple of years because of a diminishing herd, and hunters can expect even more bad news when the 2013 proclamation is issued. That should happen shortly. So far, Game and Fish Director Terry Steinwand  has consistently blamed only the weather—three pretty harsh winters beginning in 2008-2009—for the decline in the deer herd (and other species as well). Well, we’re just finishing up our second mild winter in a row, so that dog ain’t going to hunt any more.

The Bighorn Sheep problem is a pretty good indicator of the impact of oil on wildlife. The herd that has now been moved after the fatalities was put there before the boom. Wiedman told me wistfully that it was put there because it is the right kind of habitat for Bighorns, and that they had no inkling of the explosion that was about to take place there. And as the drilling continues, there are going to be fewer and fewer spots with adequate habitat and protection from the oil trucks.

To be fair, this species of Bighorns is not native to North Dakota, with the first critters having been brought here in the 1950’s to replace the extinct Audubon Sheep species that had once lived here. But they have adapted well, and because Game and Fish has been very careful to manage the herd as it grew, we’ve come to adopt a real fondness for them. To spot a herd, or even a single animal or two, while hiking in or driving through the Bad Lands, is a rare treat. And the department has spent a good deal of money on them. To maintain this herd in the face of the massive development that is creeping deeper and deeper into the Badlands will be a real challenge to GFD biologists. We wish them well.

Footnote: There are pretty severe cuts in the number of moose and elk licenses this year as well. Not surprisingly, those cuts are in the north central and northwest corner of the state as well. “There just aren’t as many moose as there once were,” Kreil said. No mention of the fact that there’s something called an oil boom all over Moose Country in North Dakota.  And the elk decline? Well, that’s being blamed on the National Park Service, because of the slaughter in Theodore Roosevelt National Park the last two years. And who do you suppose was a big proponent of hunting those elk in the National Park the last two years? You guessed it–the North Dakota Game and Fish Department.

When you take a nearly 12,000 mile driving trip, you get a lot of time to think. Lillian and I did that this winter, and we learned a lot about the country we live in. But we learned something else about ourselves: We’re both pretty comfortable in our own skin. And because of that, we were able to go long periods of time without talking. Without the radio playing. Without music. There were days when we drove for hours and the car was just quiet. Those were thinking hours.

We’re also both pretty intense observers of the world around us. We paid attention to the sides of the road, not just the center line. On the sides we saw, variously, woods, water and desert, as well as civilization in the form of cities, signs, and fellow travelers. In driving from Bismarck all the way to the Atlantic coast, then turning right and driving first along the seaboard, then the Gulf of Mexico, then the desert of Texas and New Mexico, and then the Rocky Mountains and the Black Hills as we kept turning right, the circle ending back in our driveway in Bismarck, we saw many things we had not seen before, or had seen but not paid much attention to. And we had time to talk about, and think about, what we were seeing.

Now I’m a pretty North Dakota-focused person, even though I’ve traveled through 49 of the 50 states—well, almost 49. I didn’t drive in Alaska. Yet. I only landed there in an airplane, walked across the tarmac a short distance to a hangar and back on a frigid Alaska winter day. But I have driven in every other state except New Hampshire, somehow missing that state on my several trips to New England. I’ve liked other states, but only as a casual visitor. Even though I enjoy the outdoors immensely, almost all of my participatory activities have been pretty much limited to North Dakota. I’ve never owned a non-resident hunting license, for example. I hunt 30 or 40 days a year, but always in North Dakota. I’m a fisherman, but my out of state fishing experience consists of one time in Montana and three or four times in Canada.

I’m a hiker, but I can count the number of states I’ve taken any substantial hikes in on my fingers, and the number of times I’ve hiked in any one state on one hand. I do like driving around the country and looking, but I really like doing most everything that can be done here, in North Dakota, right here at home, rather than somewhere else.

But my years as a journalist helped me develop a keen eye for observing what is happening in other places. And so I thought, on this trip that Lillian and I just completed, I’d really look for things that people in other states are doing that we could, or should, be doing in North Dakota. I mentioned a couple of them in an earlier blog post from the road—naming things after people, and logo signs on the highway–as examples.

At the same time as I was traveling and observing some of the really cool things other states were doing, I was following the North Dakota Legislature online, and one day this thought struck me: In North Dakota, right now, we are suffering from a lack of really big ideas. We’re just cruising along as a state, reacting to outside forces, the way we always have, minding our business, being generally taken advantage of, just like the days when the railroads and big grain companies dictated to us what we could produce, where we could sell it, and how much we could sell it for.  Not much has changed in that respect in the last 100 years, since the days when the Nonpartisan League led a revolt with some really big ideas. Really. Big. Ideas. Ideas like a state-owned bank, a state-owned mill, state-guaranteed hail insurance, and the passage of initiative and referendum laws which gave the citizens of our state a direct voice in their future when government failed to act on their behalf. The difference between 100 years ago and now is that now it is the mineral extraction industries dictating to us. Lackadaisical government leaders now, as then, do the bidding of those outside forces. Who are we, and who were we then, to fight progress, to not deliver our goods to a needy world at prices set elsewhere? It was our responsibility then to provide wheat for a food-hungry world. It is now our responsibility to provide oil (and gas and coal) to an energy-hungry world.

The big ideas the Nonpartisan League had back then did not completely stop the flow of dollars into big city banks, wheat into Minneapolis elevators and flour into America’s homes. They just made sure that we were treated fairly, that we could see a vision for success in our future, and that we’d be proud of what we contributed to our country. Today, we don’t need big ideas that stop the flow of oil and gas and coal out of North Dakota. We just need to insure we are treated fairly, and, as Art Link said, when the landscape is quiet again, we have a state we can still be proud of.

Right now, our state’s leaders, many of them deeply indebted to an industry that provided the funds to get them elected, are, at worst, just carrying out the wishes of that industry, and at best, nibbling around the edges of a course set forth by others, who don’t answer to us North Dakotans. Or much care about us.

It’s time to pause, step back, take a deep breath, and grab back the reins of leadership of North Dakota with some really big ideas.

I wish I could tell you what those big ideas should be. I wish I was smarter, and younger, and a little less tired, and that the ideas would just flow. While I was driving, I tried to make myself think of things that could happen that would make our grandchildren’s generation pause, 25 or 50 years from now, and say “No shit! They really did that? Wow!”

I tried to think if there are any of those kinds of things happening right now. I thought of a couple. As I walked through spectacular new Clinton Presidential Library, I thought about the fact that, around the end of this year we’re going to open the doors on a new $50 million or so State Heritage Center. That’s something. As I visited some dizzyingly large wildlife refuges and national parks, I thought of the proposal to put five per cent of the oil tax money we’re collecting right now into land and water conservation projects. At a concert in Greenville, NC, I thought of how proud the people of Fargo and Grand Forks must have been when they first saw the Fargodome and the Alerus Center. At almost every national park gate, I thought of Harold Schafer standing on a bluff overlooking a shabby little cattle town named Medora and saying “There is too much here to be lost—let’s save it.” As I stood on the banks of the Rio Grande—the “Big River”—I thought of the idea of first, the Southwest Pipeline Project, and now the Northwest Area Water Supply (NAWS) and the Western Area Water Supply Project (WAWSP) bringing fresh, pure Missouri River water to western North Dakota. As I looked out into the Gulf of Mexico at the drilling platforms, I realized what an amazingly big idea it took by Harold Hamm and others in the oil industry to figure out how to fracture our shale and bring what will be billions of barrels of oil out of the ground that was unreachable just five years ago. And I thought of the leadership of Byron Dorgan and Kent Conrad, and the North Dakota Farmers Union, AFL-CIO, Education Association and Rural Electric Cooperatives, to go to the people and put a six and a half per cent extraction tax on that oil way back in 1980, thirty years before the Bakken boom, that will now guarantee us a source of funding for our schools, and roads, and our elderly and poor and yes, those water pipeline projects, far, far into the future. And as I drove past huge coalfield spoil piles in northeast Wyoming, I thought of Art Link’s insistence on reclamation laws to make the land, after the coal mines are done, better than it was before.

Big ideas, all.

And then I continued to read news reports of North Dakota getting richer and richer, day by day, and not a single new big idea being proposed by the leadership of our state to take advantage of our newfound wealth. Instead I saw stories about cutting the oil tax we fought so hard for 30 years ago, to put even more gold into the pockets of the oil barons, about granting property tax relief which never seems to find its way into our year-end tax bills, and about government creeping into people’s bedrooms and doctors’ offices. Where, oh where, is our vision?

I don’t even know if I have any big ideas, but I’m thinking, what if we could build more water pipelines heading east, and south, to bring fresh water to the door of every home and farm and business in North Dakota? Every one. We’re pumping water uphill when we take it west from Lake Sakakawea to Williston and Dickinson and Hettinger. But it’s downhill all the way from Garrison to Fargo. How hard could that be—pipelines bringing fresh water, for every North Dakotan, forever? Along the way, we might even return 50 or 60 miles of unused canals back into farmland.

What if we reclaimed every single oil well site in 30 or 40 years, when the oil is gone, covered the scoria roads, planted native grasses and flowers, and turned the entire Bad Lands into America’s most spectacular National Park?

Why don’t we honor our citizens, past and present, like most states do, by naming roads and bridges and buildings, and even rivers and buttes, after them?

And yes (I’m never going to give up on this), what if we chose that wonderful Native American word for “friend”—Dakota—as the name of our state, giving up any extraneous directional adjectives?

We could do all those things, and many more, that you can think of, so our great-grandkids could indeed say “Wow! They really did that?”

In the next few weeks, I’m going to write about those things, to make the case for them, and hope our leaders will begin listening, and thinking. Write to me with your big ideas. I’ll be happy to post them here as well, if you’ll send them to me.

If we could build a skyscraper state capitol in the depths of the depression . . . If a man could make a fortune selling bubble bath . . . If we can drill an oil well sideways for two miles  . . . If we can build an international garden dedicated to peace . . . If a tall, skinny kid from Williston can become the best NBA basketball coach ever . . . Heck, if we can build the world’s largest concrete buffalo . . .

Okay, I promised myself I would do a wrapup on our winter trip, to look back on when we get old, and remember all the thing we could do when we were young. I’ll have to say, first of all, that it was surely the best winter of my life, simply because of the overwhelming number of new experiences in places we mostly hadn’t been before.

By the numbers: 64 days, 11,691 miles, 2 countries (see my note about Mexico below), 21 states, 36 National Park Service sites, 5 dead presidents’ homes/libraries (Jefferson, Hoover, Garfield, Clinton and LBJ), 8 dead authors’ homes/museums (Carl Sandburg, Flannery O’Connor, Ernest Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Eudora Welty, William Faulkner, Harper Lee, and Truman Capote), 12 non-NPS “museums” (Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, Blue Ridge Institute and Museum, World Golf Hall of Fame, Graceland, National Civil Rights Museum, Monroe County Court House, Ryman Theater, BB King Museum, Jim Henson Museum, the National Civil Rights Museum (including the room at the Lorraine Motel in which Martin Luther King was staying the day he was shot, just across the street), the Alamo, the Judge Roy Beam Museum in Texas—remember him, “The law west of the Pecos?”), and uncountable state parks and national wildlife refuges, including the Ding Darling Refuge and Aransas Refuge in Florida, where we watched whooping cranes, a lifelong dream for both of us.

We’re continuing our quest to visit all the national parks. We’ve visited all but four east of the Mississippi: Acadia, Biscayne, Isle Royale and Virgin Islands. We’ve been to 35 total of the 59 actual national parks, but 12 of the 24 we have left to visit are not part of the lower 48—eight in Alaska, two in Hawaii, plus American Samoa and Virgin Islands.  I expect we’ll get to the 12 remaining parks in the lower 48 in the next year or two. That’s on my bucket list, and I’m getting old. There are about 300 other sites, such as battlefields, historic sites, seashores, preserves, etc., managed by the Park Service. We’ll probably not get to all of those, but our count is well over a hundred right now, and we’ll keep at it. For a complete list, go to the NPS website.

Before I talk about the highlights of the trip, let me comment on the people we met and saw. Our North Dakota license plate caused quite a stir. Most people we talked to from the south had never met a North Dakotan, and had never been here either. They’ve heard of us, and been reading about us, though, because of the oil boom. Most said, when they learned we were from North Dakota, “Wow, it must be cold there this time of year.” We generally replied that there is a whole country north of us, so it must not be that bad. They were under the impression we were where we were to get away from the cold. We tried to explain that was really not the case, we really do like winter in North Dakota. It’s just that we are gardeners, and there are only two times we can get away for such a long period of time—after the harvest and canning are done, in late September and early October (but then I hunt and fish most of the rest of the fall), and between Christmas and March 15 (that’s the date we start our garden seeds indoors and they need constant tending from then until sometime after Labor Day). Coincidentally, though, we wanted to see all the national parks in the south, and winter is the best time to do that, absent the heat, the bugs and the crowds prevalent the rest of the year.

We drove so many miles that we had to get an oil change halfway through the trip, and put on a new set of tires near the end of the trip. Our oil change stop was fortuitous in that the mechanic spotted a worn belt, which we replaced right there, rather than wait until it broke in the middle of the Texas desert or on some deserted road. That garage stop also led to one of the more humorous moments of the trip. We were sitting in an auto dealer waiting room while the belt was being replaced when a service manager came in to talk to the lady sitting beside us, a middle-aged black woman, dressed nicely like she was meeting friends for lunch somewhere. I overheard the service manager tell her that the wiper blade she wanted replaced would be about $75. That sent shivers down my spine—was the serpentine belt for our Subaru going to be $500? He went on to explain to the lady that the total repair bill for the other things that needed to be done would be about $7,000. She nodded, and didn’t say much, except that she wasn’t going to have all that done right now. She got up to leave as the service manager left, and as she walked by the rest of us in the waiting room, said to herself, loud enough for us to hear, “I’m never going to buy another Jaguar again.”

I can’t pick a single most outstanding highlight from the trip, but I can make a top ten list of highlights. Here they are, in no particular order.

1. An hour watching the whooping cranes dancing at Goose Island Island State Park in Florida, just across a small bay from Aransas National Wildlife Refuge, where most of the remaining  flock of fewer than 300 birds spend their winters. They were feeding in a pasture along with a small herd of cattle near the Gulf shore. Bucket List.
2. Carlsbad Caverns in New Mexico. I’ve never seen anything else like it, and I’ve been to the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone, Glacier and the other cave national parks. You enter a visitor center at the end of a short road off the highway, get into an elevator, descend 750 feet, and when you get out you are in a concession area of a huge cave, probably 100 feet tall, 750 feet underground. You can get something to drink, go to the bathroom, and buy a tee shirt or a flashlight before you set off on a paved trail, with handrails, and benches for stopping to rest, for a mile-plus walk through a 600,000 square foot main room plus many rooms off the main room. Pretty much indescribable. Just go there.
3. Music museums. We started this trip with a day at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland. I wrote about it in an earlier post. You get a plastic entrance bracelet after you pay your entry fee, allowing you to come and go. I was there on December 29. I’m still wearing my bracelet. I may never take it off. Lillian may someday have to pry it from my cold, dead wrist. After that, we spent more than half a day at Graceland, stopped for a couple hours at the Blue Ridge Institute and Museum on The Crooked Road in Virginia, home to the archives of bluegrass music (which we got to see, courtesy of the friendly archives manager). We got a behind-the-scenes tour of the Ryman Auditorium in Nashville, the “Mother Church” of country music, but the Country Music Hall of Fame there was closed for renovation when we visited. We also stopped at a very nice little BB King Museum in Mississippi. And we had other musical experiences. We saw one of our favorite bands, the Avett Brothers, in concert in North Carolina on New Year’s Eve. We were surprised when Vince Gill took the stage unannounced for an evening of music at a club in Nashville. We had a drink at BB King’s bar on Beale Street in Memphis. Alas, 87-year-old BB wasn’t there—he was on tour. We’ll see him at the Bismarck Civic Center in May, though. We have front row seats.
4. Food. We ate way too well. Food was the budget buster on this trip. For us, eating the locally grown/raised/caught food is one of the highlights of any trip. Initially, we planned to cook most of our meals in the campground on our little propane stove and grill, and we did plenty of that. Steaks, burgers, lamb chops on the grill, and lots of fresh shrimp boiled on the stove. But we spent a lot of nights in nice restaurants, even when we were camping. Probably our most decadent night was when we went in to Apalachicola, Florida, from our barrier island campsite, and ate a dozen and a half oysters on the half shell at a restaurant on the bay, and then picked up a pound and a half of fresh gulf shrimp at a seafood market on the way back to camp. Boiled ‘em and ate ‘em. Washed down with a bottle of wine. As I mentioned previously, Lillian said “It is not possible to eat too much shrimp.” In addition to probably 30 nights eating seafood, from Virginia to Louisiana, we ate barbecue in Tennessee, Tex-Mex in Texas, and the amazing pork chop sandwich I mentioned earlier in Mt. Airey, NC. And, on the way home, chateaubriand at a ski resort in New Mexico. Hamburger for us for a while.
5. The two big presidential libraries in Arkansas and Texas, dedicated to Bill Clinton and Lyndon Johnson. Clinton’s, in Little Rock, was spectacular, right down to his daily schedule for every day of his presidency. At the LBJ Library in Austin, we got a behind-the-scenes tour of the multi-million document archives from the sister-in-law of our friend Bruce Anderson from Minot. Claudia Anderson is the senior archivist at the LBJ Library. We got a look at things almost no one ever gets to see.
6. Carl Sandburg’s home in North Carolina. After Carl died, his wife Lilian lived there for a few years, and then sold it to the National Park Service for $300,000. They offered her $400,000 but she wouldn’t take it. The day she left she packed a suitcase and left everything just as it was when Carl died. Including the 15,000 books on the shelves. They are still there. The only place we saw more books was when we visited Lillian’s graduate school roommate in Arkansas. A librarian like Lillian, she said she had 21,000 of the books in her two houses catalogued, with a bunch yet to do. F. Scott Fitzgerald’s house in Alabama gave me goosebumps. Hemingway’s house in Key West is being overrun by tourists and really wasn’t much fun—there were probably a hundred other people in the house and on the grounds during the two hours we were there.
7. Islands. Here in North Dakota we don’t get to do islands much. We made up for that on this trip. The most spectacular, of course, was spending a night camping on a 16-acre island in the Gulf of Mexico, Dry Tortugas National Park, 80 miles west of Key West by boat. But we also camped on a number of islands along the Atlantic and Gulf coasts, riding ferries and traversing many, many long bridges to get to them and back. I’m pretty sure Florida has spent more on bridges alone than North Dakota has spent on its entire Interstate system.
8. Blue Highways. To the extent we could, we drove back roads through the entire south, which is how we put almost 12,000 miles on our Subaru, several thousand more than if we had driven the freeways. We wouldn’t do it differently if we had it to do over.
9. Natural hot springs. Two of them, in Hot Springs, Arkansas, and at Big Bend National Park in Texas. We soaked in both of them. At Hot Springs National Park in Arkansas, we did the two-hour bath house experience, in the same historic facilities our grandparents’ generation used to visit, a soak in an oversized tub full of hot spring water, followed by a massage. At Big Bend, there’s a spring flowing out of the ground right beside the Rio Grande River, which forms the boundary between the countries of Texas and Mexico. 80 years ago or so, they built a crude rock tub, about 20 feet square, beside the river, to hold the hot flowing spring water at a depth of about 18 inches. The overflow from the spring goes right over the spillway into the river. If you step out of the tub on the river side, you can wade about a hundred yards across the river to Mexico. I did that. Just to say I did it.
10. A chanced to spend 64 uninterrupted days and nights with the woman I love. Okay, that’s number one.