Shakedown, Part 2

It's been a nice break, but I'm antsy to get out there again

The badlands of Teddy Roosevelt National Park in North Dakota.

The resumption of my long-term travel is so close I can taste it (more on that next week). With a(nother) new camper to initiate before I head out, I took a preparation trip this past weekend, heading off to western North Dakota for two nights.

It couldn’t have been a better experience.

Full Hookups and Endless Horizons

I don’t need much: a level site, full hookups (a boondocker, I am not), and a place to ride my bike.

I’d wanted to camp in Medora, inexplicably one of my favorite towns. It’s a place that has history and kitsch in equal measures, where Teddy Roosevelt centered himself as a young man and where the marketer behind Glass Wax and Mr. Bubble built a modern-day homage to performative patriotism.

Is it over-the-top and commercial and, especially this time of the year, crowded? Absolutely, it is. And yet, there’s something sincere and charming about it, too, and with history and natural beauty at the ready.

Anyway, that crowdedness thwarted my aspiration. I couldn’t get a campsite in Medora, so I parked myself about 20 miles east, in Belfield.

The Crossings Campground is actually part of the Medora network of accommodations, and it was…fine. It’s a flat piece of land with full hookups, no office, no showers or bathrooms, not even a dumpster (that I could find).

None of the shortcomings mattered. I had power, water, and my own bathroom facilities. In the evening, as the heat of the day dissipated, I had a lovely little town to bike through. If horizons are your thing, North Dakota can accommodate you. As the joke goes, you could watch your dog run away for three days.

The first night, I took a pass on cooking—too hot—and ventured into Belfield to eat at a place called Burly’s Roughrider Bar and Steakhouse (they love their Teddy references in those parts) and had an entirely credible slab of prime rib.

Burp

The only negative experience—and honestly, it was pretty funny in retrospect—was taking a bug to my naked eyeball while on an evening bike ride. There I was, pedaling along and feeling alive and wonderful, and splat!

It put me in a mood to write comical haiku, one of my preferred diversions:

A fly to the eye
Oh, yeah, you know I’m that guy
Just call me Winky

Ready, Teddy

I couldn’t be Medora-adjacent and miss the opportunity to visit the newly opened Theodore Roosevelt Presidential Library.

My one-sentence review: It’s worth a second visit, preferably in the offseason. Because, my goodness, it was deservedly crowded. I felt a little rushed to get through the exhibits. I’d like to return and take a little time.

The library has drawn a lot of attention for its use of AI to bring elements of the experience to some approximation of life. I thought the technology was well done and more or less compelling. I sent a loved one a picture that incorporated my face into a historical photo and said, “Am I crazy, or does this guy look like me?” The recipient was fooled until I made the reveal.

O Captain, My Captain

But, honestly, I’m not sure I need to talk to a hologram of Teddy Roosevelt. Maybe I’m just old and crotchety and set in my ways, but my preferred definition of “immersive” involves reading and studying artifacts and hearing scholarly interpretations. Bottom line: The stuff I’m most interested in revisiting is authentic, not generative.

One man’s opinion.

But What About the Camper?

No news is good news. It pulled beautifully. I had no structural or mechanical issues. Next week, my RV tech is giving it a thorough going-over before I embark again.

After the Summer of the Stupidly Tumbling Refrigerator, I’m all about no problems and no drama, for however long that lasts.