8-2-2014 Arvilla, ND

8-2-2014 Arvilla, ND

In case you need to buy a syllable, there are a lot of them available up north.  Take the towns of Potawatomi and Oconomowoc, for example.  My favorites are Lakes Winnibigoshish and Kabetogama.  Forget the easy stuff like, say, Trout Lake, why do that?  Why say, “spicy sauce” when you can say, “chipotle,” eh?  I’ve also noticed that the bent is a little different at certain retail businesses.  We drove past a store named, “Rides.”  In the desert where we live, the inventory would consist of ATVs and dirt bikes but here, parked out front, the vehicles de jour are a snowmobile and a riding lawn mower.  Ah yes, all things in life are relative.

There is not an available site in an rv park for as far as the eye can see.  The recent oil boom in the Dakotas has brought about a states-wide “no vacancy” sign as folks, bless them, flood here for the jobs.  More power to them, I say.  Capitalism on the hoof.  However, many have taken up semi-permanent residence in the parks making our hopscotch across this part of the fruited plain a real quest.  The state and national parks do not allow extended stays so they are our working alternative.  Government parks are not my first choice because, yes, they are less expensive but they’re usually rustic and lack utilities.  Nevertheless, beggars can’t be choosers and we are camped at Turtle River State Park, which, after all, turns out to be a rather pretty green place with small, u-shaped pull-throughs occupied by almost all the mosquitoes and half the frogs on Earth.  This morning, the ground is covered with white downy fluff from the cottonwood trees and it looks like it snowed last night.  So pretty.

Don’t say the rangers haven’t warned you.  If they drive the truck through the park with the yellow lights flashing, that means probable severe weather.  If the flashing lights are red, that means go to the shelter (the bathroom).  OK, I got it.  If you see yellow lights, pack the cooler.  Red lights, carry the cooler to the bathroom because it’s handy:  you’re going to be scared shitless and meanwhile you can have a beer.  The skies were black this afternoon so we mentally rehearsed the rangers’ drill while we drove to Larimore to sit out the storm at the Good Friends Tavern.  What else could we do? 

Every state has laws, don’tchaknow?  In one state, you can buy alcoholic beverages only at the government liquor stores.  In another state, you can buy beer and wine here, but booze over there.  In Nevada, you can buy whatever you want wherever you want (these are my people).  In ND, you have to go to a bar to buy take-out beer, wine and booze.  Allright-y then, take me to your bartender.  As the storms rampaged outside, Leinie’s Oktoberfest was on tap and the friendly locals told us of the crowds flocking into the state for the oil industry jobs, mostly in the western half of the state.  The farmers don’t like all this, they explained, especially the pipeline because if there is a failure, it goes all over the ground.  (I thought oil came from the ground… oh well, what do I know?)  The local folks talk like this, “Yah, rate know, dare.”  (That means “yes, right now, there.”  My ears are tuning into the dialect.)  We also learned that if you catch a fish in Canada and butcher it and you want to bring it home, you have to leave the skin on it so the government can determine if you caught the right fish and the right number of the right fish.  If you transgress, they fine you, confiscate your fish, take it home and eat it.  Just a guess on the “take it home and eat it” part BUT… if I, Lindy, were the “Fish Police?”

 

The storm has passed and we are home.  No fuses have blown and we are warm and safe.  For dinner, we plan to fry up some walleye and prepare fresh corn on the cob, fresh lima beans, cauliflower and Mom’s cucumber salad and, ready for this?  A Grain Belt beer! 

Had one of those lately?  Our walleye has its skin on it.  Phew, dodged another bullet!