Telling The Secrets Of North Dakota

On Monday morning I telephoned my father in North Carolina, and right away he was yelling at me, “You better stop that!  I’m telling you, you, hey, I mean stop!”  I had no idea what he was talking about or what he was referring to.  He was mad that I wrote not only one, but two blog posts about the forested valley on the Fort Berthold Reservation.

My father was sure that I was going to cause every developer on the east coast and the west coast to fly out there tomorrow to buy up all the land.  I tried to explain to my father that it was Bureau of Land Management land, or Native American land.  He said, “So what, BLM does lands swaps all the time.  The Native Americans will get talked into building a casino there, and it will all be ruined.”

I felt that I had been vague enough about the location, that only enthusiastic hikers would be able to find it.  But my father disagreed with me, the developers will find it now.

The way I feel about it right now, what if only a few people get to see it this year, and a few people next year, what good is that?  I had never seen anything quite like it in my life, and it made a profound impression on me.  In my excitement and happiness, I wanted to tell other people, but I was aware that making it too easy to find could ruin it.

I really don’t want hunters to go there.  Hunters are the most ignorant piece of shit people, not even recognizing their own mental deviance and defectiveness in getting excited by the thought of killing animals.  I try not to hit birds, squirrels, turtles, dogs, cats, and deer with my vehicle, but hunters get excited about killing these animals and they actually go looking for them in order to shoot them.  Currently all the animals in this valley are unafraid of people, only slightly wary of people, and I don’t want hunters to terrorize the animals.

I also don’t want the meth addicts to go there.  I would hate to see beat up Hyundais there with Idaho license plates beginning with the letter “K”, for Coeur D’Alene, meaning that there are restaurant and bar workers there that are high on drugs and looking for things to steal.

When I sat in the valley, it was quiet and peaceful, and amazingly beautiful.  There were no people and no vehicles, it was completely serene.  The sight of it, and the experience of it, made everything else seem insignificant and unimportant.  For as long as you are there, nothing else seems to matter.  Whatever might be important elsewhere, is no longer important.  The amount of money in your bank accounts, the amount of your debts and bills, your career, your job, your house, your car, your possessions, your successes, your failures, none of it matters because it is all so insignificant in comparison to what you are now seeing and experiencing.

Ever since the white settlers came to North America, they considered the Native Americans to be very odd in regard to the ownership of land.  The Native Americans did not have the concept of owning land.  Even in present times, Native Americans differ from white people in the way they live and what they own.  White people would characterize Native Americans as being careless.

When I sat in this valley, I partly understood why the concept of owning land may be ridiculous to Native Americans.  How could a person own this, it has existed for thousands of years before a person was born, and it will exist for thousands of years after a person has died?  How could a person try to control every animal that dwells here, and every animal and person that passes through?  Would it not be insane, and the action of a crazy person, to even try or think that they could control what goes on here?  What are you going to do, stop the rain, wind, snow, fire, drought, flood, birth, and death?  If you think about it, white people do have the belief that they can, and must try to control everything.  White people never fully grasp the truth that they are here for just a very short while, and are insignificant really.

I would like for other people to find the forested valleys on the north side of the Killdeer Mountains, and be able to experience this one or more times, while it still exists.  Jackson Hole has been ruined, Flagstaff has been ruined, and Sedona has been ruined by the millionaires and the billionaires, that thought that they could buy up paradise and own it.  Instead they choked the life right out of it, almost like the tale of killing the goose that laid one golden egg each day, in order to try to get all the golden eggs at once.  This is one last chance that I know of for people to experience the most beautiful land that I have ever seen.

The Native Americans control this area inside their sovereign nation of Fort Berthold, whether some of the land is owned by the Bureau of Land management or not.  If the Native Americans want to develop this land, it would be a shame, but their right to do so.  They don’t have to preserve their tribal land for the sake of white people to come and visit, white people really aren’t supposed to be here on their reservation in the first place.

Because of the Native American’s “odd” view on the ownership of land, they aren’t currently chasing down non-trouble maker white people during the day that might be hiking or bicycling.  However, about 5% of Native Americans will kill white people if they catch them on the reservation at night, or the Bigfoots will.

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