Theodore Roosevelt National Park: Northern Exploresure Part 3

I’d say I travel pretty frequently and most of the time my adventures take me somewhere with a theme park. But if the itinerary of my trip doesn’t include a theme park, then there’s a good chance I’ll be at a different kind of park . . . one of the National Parks. Last September my family took a two-week road trip from Minneapolis (where we took a pit-stop to check out some local roller coasters) to the Canadian Border and headed west to see four national parks. We started with the Isle Royale National Park, then our tour led us to Voyageurs National Park, and now Theodore Roosevelt National Park in western North Dakota.

As a lover of our National Parks, it should be no surprise that Theodore Roosevelt is one of my personal heroes; after all, this is the guy that experienced Yosemite with John Muir on a 3 night jaunt through the High Sierra. Imagine, the President of the United States disappearing into the wilderness! Therefore, it is unsurprising that the only US National Park named after an individual honors the 26th President.

I have always said I would not have been President
had it not been for my experience in North Dakota.
        (Theodore Roosevelt)

Theodore Roosevelt National Park is North Dakota’s most visited attraction, and features easy freeway access, not generally an amenity found in the National Park Service. Another oddity is the fact that it is split into a North and South Unit as well as a smaller parcel, Elkhorn Ranch, where Roosevelt briefly resided. With an unimproved road and little remaining of his abode beyond part of the foundation, that wasn’t on the agenda. The entry into the South Unit is through the town of Madera, but a major road construction project meant controlled, one way traffic in and out, so those that desired little more than a quick sign, scenery and selfie stop were encouraged to use the Visitor’s Center at Painted Canyon adjacent to I-94.

There are no words that can tell the hidden spirit of the wilderness,
that can reveal its mystery, its melancholy, and its charm.
          (Theodore Roosevelt)

Of course, your humble narrator continued through Madera to navigate the dirt and heavy equipment and enter the park proper. A stop at the Visitor’s Center there was made first, allowing time to see the Maltese Cross cabin in the back. Although only occupied by TR briefly before being supplanted by Elkhorn Ranch, it has had a long life since as a traveling curiosity from the St. Louis World’s Fair to the Lewis and Clark Centennial Exposition before settling in at the park. It now sits in an idyllic space backed by badlands, with period furnishings, (the writing desk below is a repro of one used at Elkhorn) and graffiti (no explanation as to the equation determining when carving a door frame goes from vandalism to historic artifact).

With a member of the family having bad knees, this was a day she could enjoy, focused primarily on the scenic loop road. It was odd to be able to see the Interstate from the first viewpoint, but it faded away as we penetrated the interior.

I’ve seen Fargo, good flick, but new little about the Roughrider State, only knowing the nickname because I looked it up just now. The people are friendly and consistent in never failing to ask “so why are you here?” when learning we were from California. I expected a flatter landscape, and was pleased to find some texture to it. Much of the park is prairie or badlands, but unlike those of South Dakota’s Badlands National Park, these felt more integrated with the surrounding land, which also has numerous small ravines from water erosion.

The road had numerous stops and pullouts with viewpoints or short nature walks among the options. One such path led to the original entrance station after passing through a well populated prairie dog town, while others offered views of the Little Missouri River.

I grow very fond of this place, and it certainly has a desolate,
grim beauty of its own that has a curious fascination for me.
       (Theodore Roosevelt)

An hour away the North Unit is found; generally oval in shape, it is roughly bisected by a road from the east. Two loop trails, the Buckhorn and Caprock Coulee are also bisected by this road. We set out to do the north half of each trail, with a pickup awaiting at the far end of about 9 trail miles. A log book was signed at the trailhead, and though lacking the suggested compass, we had a topo map and the direction of the sun to guide us, and thus began traversing the crumpled landscape, surprisingly colorful already in mid September.

The only guidebook I’d found for the park described this trail as flat, and while much of it was, the first part had us gradually ascending through a series of gullies. Before long the road sounds were but a memory and we crested a broad plateau.

Those are, of course, American Bison, not to be confused with Buffalo, an American city. The park is actually encircled by a fence because domesticated cattle don’t care to mingle with their wild cousins, and the ranchers want it even less; sheepherders would be preferable We had passed one near the road in the South Unit.

As you can see, it’s basically a massive muscle on hooves with two points of impalement tossed in. A decision was taken to circumnavigate the herd, and things seemed to be going well; comfortable, familiar, deja vu-ish.

Let’s go to the map.

Yep, thought so, too much circumnavigation. Between the map and the app, we were soon back on track.

Clearly.

Here’s the deal. Once on the prairie, there were indistinct game trails in addition to the indistinct human trails, and thus, the post system.

Follow the posts to find the route, quick and slick. However, during our circumnavigation we had approached a post from the wrong direction resulting in our misplacement. Solution? Use those trusty new binoculars obtained for wildlife spotting (man, that was a wise purchase!) to see the post after next. Just twist the focus knob….

Mmmmm kaaaay. It’s just over by yon sharp, shaggy beast. Lying down when first spotted, our cunning plan was to put the small hill between we and he while moving around to spot the next post following; you follow? That’s when he rolled about, stirring up a cloud of dust, rising to full height, engaging a menacing stare, would have cracked his knuckles if he had any. Apparently we passed scrutiny, as directly he turned and trotted away, leaving ourselves to exhale and proceed, confident that our own bones would not lie bleaching in the North Dakota sun on this particular afternoon. It was truly a glorious day of wide vistas and stark beauty.

Predators lurk near prairie dog towns, but a lil ol racer snake won’t threaten one too much. But best not to enter holes leading inside of rock that seems to be eroding before one’s eyes.

The first section of the Caprock Coulee trail is a nature trail, meaning a handy guide would note points of interest like a petrified log halfway up the cliff. Caprocks form when harder rock is above a soft, eroding foundational rock. The gentle ascent (by Yosemite standards anyway) led in and out of trees with ever expanding views, culminating at an overlook of the Little Missouri River, and a wife with a car.

As this trip had approached I had really started looking forward to Theodore Roosevelt National Park, and it did not disappoint, positively bully! Quite the change from Minnesota’s waterlogged woodlands, eh? And we’re turning again with something completely different as the push west concludes on the final Day by The Border.

We have fallen heirs to the most glorious heritage a people ever received,
and each one must do his part
if we wish to show that the nation is worthy of its good fortune.
          (Theodore Roosevelt)

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