I watched the sun rise in Argusville, North Dakota, and it was one of those moments that made me pause. The land stretched out forever until it simply merged with the wakening sky. No buildings. No billboards. Just quiet, golden light on endless prairie.
Breakfast in the dining car was a treat. I sat with Sharon, a retired college technology teacher; Sarah, a young cannabis store manager; and Guiargo (sp?), an 8th-grade support teacher who specializes in reading interventions. We chatted about education, kids, and the “polite” challenges of parenting in the modern world. It felt good to laugh and commiserate with others who get it.
After breakfast, I moved to the observation car. The windows start around shin-height and curve overhead. By the time we reached Lakota, the landscape was noticeably flatter. Just grass and sky, with the occasional cluster of trees where water gathered.
Lakota was once called “the Queen City of the Northeast” and was home to one of the earliest newspapers in North Dakota—the Lakota American, founded in 1883 and still printing today.
This part of the country has a quiet strength. It doesn’t shout. It simply unfolds. And from my train window, I could see it all.
