From the moment I stepped foot over the bridge into North Dakota I had a vision of Liberty like none other in these United States...Fargo's own small scale Statue of liberty. Down the street from the veteran's memorial bridge spanning the Red River a man called me into the hub of activity for all the local geriatric activists... The Mcdonald's. The man bought me a cup of 'jo and told me of the fifty jobs he had in his life. Fourty nine of which he had been fired from. The other he kept for the forty odd years he had been sober. He then asked if I had been out of the U.S.A. and then informed me he could never leave because he was on the government's "no-fly" list because he had been labeled a terrorist for protesting in front of an abortion clinic..."Can't we all just get along?".
Throughout my stay in North Dakota I found the view broad. Not like I had been warned it would be by most Minnesotans. They told me I'd be run down by the people of the plains, that they'd have no time or patience for me. I found it quite the opposite. I had many long by the side of the highway conversations with all types of citizens and even the most hardened farm hands were more than polite as they barreled by with the beet harvest in tow. Bbrruummmping over the rumble strips to give the World it's room on the road. And the winds gave me my only two days of rest on this journey due to weather. A gift of the plains. Once again I saw how you can't judge your neighbors until you walk amongst them.
On my last day I left from the cozy little compound of a family of harley ridin' bikers. Not what you'd expect of a class notorious for loud exhaust and leather chaps. They were warm and filled with spirit... The Holy Spirit, they were members of The Christian Motorcyclists Association.
All in all I thoroughly enjoyed North Dakota despite some of their neighbors' misconceptions.