After deciding we needed to start home early, we planned out the return trip, starting at a newer national park. Theodore Roosevelt National Park lies in western North Dakota, where the Great Plains meet the rugged Badlands. A habitat for bison, elk and prairie dogs (we didn’t see any elk), the sprawling park has 3 sections linked by the Little Missouri River. Today we’re at the northern section just south of Williston where we’ve been staying.
Hunting and ranching in this area influenced his desire to protect natural resources. (I wonder what he saw then that made him want to protect this area?) As president, he designated more than 230 million acres of national parks, forests, monuments, and wildlife reserves. This area was designated as a memorial park in 1949 and as a national park in 1978.
exploring the North Unit
Other cattle drives followed, bringing thousands more longhorns. These hardy animals fared well on the long walk from Texas. Turned loose on the open range, they adapted quickly and were ready for market in 2 years.
By the early 1900s, ranchers were replacing longhorns with newer, more productive breeds of cattle. Since the railroads connected the ranches with the cattle markets, the long cattle drives were no longer needed that only the longhorns had been able to survive.
Fortunately a few people intervened to save the longhorn from extinction. Today a small herd of 10-25 longhorn steers from a national wildlife refuge in Nebraska wander around the North Unit. The herd is maintained as a reminder of the open range cattle era.
Sadly, we didn’t see any of the longhorn while we were driving through along the scenic drive.
tilted hills
Ready to learn about how these large blocks of land got turned on their sides?
Left: Long ago the Little Missouri River flowed along a steep cliff face where we are now. The moving water cut into the base of the cliff, leaving a large mass of unsupported rock.
Middle: Eventually the unsupported rock mass gave way, sliding down intact and rotating as it came to rest in the river channel.
Right: As the river’s course shifted slowly across the valley, rain water eroded the cliff face that widened the gap between the cliff and the slump block. What’s a slump block?
A slump block is a mass of land that has slumped down a short distance. It’s like when we’re tired from standing up straight and slump our shoulders forward.
This view in front of the sign about the tilted hills shows a slump block on the left.
The Buckhorn Trail is a 11.4-mile loop that would have taken us north of the scenic drive if I had been able to walk that far. Oh well. We could have walked through a wide valley and then close to the river.
cannonball mystery
See the large, round rock on the ground? It’s so unlike the rest of the landscape. Where did it come from?
Here’s our picture of the same large, round rock next to the butte.
And here’s a wider view of the same picture so you can see more of the butte.
These “cannonballs” weren’t carried here by flowing water or glaciers like what we’ve seen before. Instead they were formed within the sediment layers of the badlands.
Erosion is now slowly exposing some of these buried treasures while others are just becoming visible. Others are yet to be revealed.
Those in this area of the park are some of the largest and most impressive ever discovered in the park and in the Little Missouri Badlands.
Here’s how they form. Water rich in minerals deposit those minerals as the water seeps through porous sediment layers.
The minerals act like glue, binding the sediments together and forming concretions (“a hard solid mass formed by the local accumulation of matter, especially within the body or within a mass of sediment” according to Wikipedia).
These concretions form in many shapes and sizes; if spherical, they are called “cannonballs.” Scientists can only guess why some take on this shape.
Here are some more of the cannonballs. The people next to them show how large they really are.
layers in time
At this spot, we could start to see the colorful layers of the badlands. Individual layers can be traced across the buttes in the distance for miles. So what caused the rocks to form this way?
Millions of years ago, a sea covered the middle of the North American continent. As it receded, this area became a vast river delta where streams and rivers fanned out and emptied into the sea.
Sediment washed down from the Rocky Mountains and came to rest in large, flat sheets across the river delta. The layers built up over time, creating the Great Plains. As we scan the canyon walls from top to bottom, we are actually looking back in time.
And here’s our view of the layers that reach out all over the buttes.
But no hint of dinosaurs are found in the rocks here since they were formed around 50 million years ago, way too recent to contain dinosaur fossils. Perhaps if some are here, they are further down in rock layers that we haven’t discovered yet.
more bison
As we kept on driving, we started seeing more bison.
One was even close to the road as we drove on by.
River Bend Overlook
In front of us is one of the most iconic views in the park: River Bend Overlook.
As we walked the short way to the overlook, we started seeing the river in the distance.
From the overlook we saw this shelter and more of the river. The pathway was a little too challenging for me in my boot so this is as far we got.
This view is the one that launched a park.
Before this area became a national park, this spot was recognized for its dramatic beauty.
In 1937, with the land’s ultimate designation still undecided and the scenic road not yet complete, the CCC started construction on the overlook shelter. The building was designed to blend in with the landscape so the scenery would always be the focal point of this view.
We’ve seen so much of the work done by the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) in other parks as we’ve traveled. Just last summer (2020) as we visited various Georgia State Parks, we saw work they did in parts 8 and 9.
The CCC was a 1930s and 40s public works relief program to offset the impact of the Great Depression’s job losses and to conserve the nation’s natural resources. More than 3 million CCC enrollees went to work in every state in the country. They planted trees, developed lands for recreation, built flood barriers, fought fires, and so much more. Their legacy lives on in our nation’s parks and public lands.
In the North Unit, 2 CCC camps were here from 1934-1939. In the south unit, 2 more camps operated from 1934-1937 and from 1939-1941. The shelter we’re looking at is one they worked on that is still being used today.
The CCC also built the picnic shelter in Juniper Picnic area and the shelter at the beginning of one of the nature trails. With limited machinery but plenty of manpower, these men laid out and surfaced the scenic road we’ve been driving on. Their expertly built stone culverts underneath the road are still in use today.
a view from the overlook
and a more close up view from the overlook
understanding where we are
One of our questions while we’ve been in North Dakota is how/why did the Great Plains develop? The following sign started answering our question.
Now that we live in Georgia rather than in California, we understand and follow that most storms come to us from the northwest, the west (over the Rockies), and the southwest.
The Rocky Mountains “rob” the Great Plains of moisture that forests need. Instead drought-tolerant prairie land can thrive.
Closest to the mountains is the shortgrass prairie that has an average of 7-15 inches of annual precipitation. Further east is the mixed-grass prairie that has an average of 15-24 inches of annual precipitation. Even further east is the tallgrass prairie that has an average of 24-40 inches of annual precipitation.
As the storms reach the Rocky Mountains that has heights reaching up to 14,000 feet, the air cools as it rises over the peaks. The moisture is squeezed out and falls as rain or snow.
As the dry air now descends on the other side of the Rockies, it reaches the Great Plains and produces very little precipitation. As the air moves further east, it picks up moisture and precipitation increases so Eastern forests can be supported.
The mixed-grass prairie in Theodore Roosevelt National Park supports tallgrass species like big bluestem (part 11 has more info on big bluestem) and shortgrass species like buffalo grass.
Can you believe these roots? What we see above ground is just the tip of the prairie iceberg. Extensive root systems help extract as much moisture as possible from the soil. When stressed by drought or fire, these roots have enough stored energy to generate new growth once the conditions improve. Sounds like this was planned.
Oxbow Overview
At the end of the scenic drive is the Oxbow Overlook that gives us an unusual look at the Little Missouri River.
The overlook takes its name from a type of meander in the river below. Oxbows and oxbow lakes are common along the free-flowing Little Missouri River where natural flood cycles constantly shift the river’s course. The next picture shows what happens.
The 2 sides of the oxbow are moving toward each other (left). Eventually they will meet, and the river will take the new, shorter path (middle). Sediment will block the ends of the old river channel, creating an oxbow lake (right).
And here are glimpses of the river on the left, the middle, and the right just like in the previous picture.
Most of the Little Mo flows north through the badlands of South Dakota, but at the section of the river we’re looking at, it starts flowing east toward the Missouri River. This change in the river’s direction was a turning point in the formation of the badlands. All together, it’s 560 miles long.
Why the turn? As we’ve learned before, millions of years ago glaciers encroached on this land from the north (behind where we’re standing), blocking the river’s path. About 640,000 years ago, the water found a new course and started flowing east along the glacial front.
The river’s new course was shorter and steeper, causing it to flow faster. As the water gained speed, it started carving down into the Plains to begin the formation of the badlands.
a view of the river in the distance and the badlands it created
more about the Little Mo
The undammed Little Missouri River often floods, eroding areas of floodplain and depositing new land. This new land next to the river offers plenty of water and sunlight and is the only place where cottonwood seedlings can survive. As the river changes course slowly from year to year, new generations of cottonwood trees keep growing.
This natural cycle of flooding and tree growth is disappearing across the Great Plains where most rivers are tamed by dams so they won’t flood. Without natural flooding, new generations of cottonwoods can’t thrive. Other species of trees, some that are invasive, replace the old generations of cottonwoods when they die.
Along this spot of the river, Plains cottonwoods grow in curved, same-age bands on new land deposited by the river. These generational bands show the river’s changing course and history of flooding.
In 2010, researchers working here discovered the oldest known living Plains cottonwood. The tree, believed to have sprouted in 1641, and other old cottonwoods are keys to unlocking the history of the region’s rivers and climate.
The image in the previous picture, taken through a microscope, shows a core sample from a cottonwood tree in the park. Narrow annual growth rings indicate drought years during the 1930s Dust Bowl. Growth rings also indicate a more severe drought from 1816 to 1823.
Cottonwood trees love being next to water, and their seeds are well adapted to the wet areas in which they grow.
But why are cottonwood trees so important? In the park they help us know what life was like here for hundreds of years. In a previous post, we learned that the wood from the cottonwood trees had been used for building Fort Union and Fort Buford in the 1800s.
These trees are fast growing and can easily add 6 inches a year to their height. But this fast growth also means their wood isn’t all that strong. City planners use cottonwood treesfor urban areas because of their hardiness, low maintenance, and ornamental look. They are also popular in helping to restore a natural environment since they prevent soil erosion. The trees are also used in large parks to attract different kinds of wildlife and create windbreaks.
Here are some more views of the river and the land surrounding it.
left side of the oxbow
Where Barney is standing shows how far up we are from the river.
Remember when we said “About 640,000 years ago, the water found a new course and started flowing east along the glacial front”? Where Barney is standing is where this glacial front ended.
love the views around us
The blue-black popcorn-like soil that caps the plateau 50 feet below us is bentonitic clay that flows when wet. This colored layer can be traced for miles up and down the river.
And when we turned around, we saw this flat prairie area that had been covered by the glacier. It’s so unlike the area around the river. Amazing.
interdependence
A small fence surrounds the park, separating it from the ranches around it. Park managers actively maintain the park’s health and working to restore the land’s natural balance.
In 1962, park managers reintroduced bison to the park’s North Unit. Since then, bison have been doing their part to restore the prairie’s health (what a nice way of saying this). By analyzing their DNA, managers can make decisions impacting the genetic health of the park’s bison herd and the species as a whole.
Now that we know that prairie fires play an important part of many of the ecosystems, the park service regularly sets fires to mimic the patterns of natural fire that had been suppressed for a long time.
Starting in 1954, the National Park Service partnered with North Dakota to reintroduce bighorn sheep to the park and surrounding lands. Park managers are making efforts to sustain the species as the animals face natural and human-caused hardships. (We didn’t see any as we drove around the North Unit.)
Some plants introduced by humans can actually damage native plant communities and deprive grazers of food (bison) that they need to survive. Park managers remove species like the one pictured (leafy spurge) with chemical spraying and and prescribed fires.
Bison and the prairie are inseparable, and their history and relationship go back at least 11,000 years. Just as the prairie nourishes the bison, bison sustain the prairie.
Bison only eat grass, leaving space for prairie flowers and other leafy plants to flourish. Their grazing benefits birds, small mammals, and other grazers that consume the leaves and seeds of non-grasses.
Bison graze some areas heavily while leaving others almost untouched. This mixture of tall and short grasses makes the prairie suitable for animals that require different plant heights for the life processes. For example, sharp-tailed grouse nest in tall grass but perform mating dances and breed in areas of very short grass so the park is a perfect place for this species of grouse.
The bison’s waste sustains the prairie by restoring nutrients to the soil wherever they graze.
The bison’s patchwork grazing ensures that fires never fully consume the prairie. Lightly grazed areas burn easily, rejuvenating the soil and clearing away old plant growth. Meanwhile, fire skips over heavily grazed areas where there isn’t enough grass to carry the fire.
After a fire, bison reverse their grazing patterns. They prefer the tender young grasses in recently burned areas that were once lightly grazed.
bison!
As we started driving back to the entrance along the scenic road, we saw a herd of bison in the distance.
And then we came along Mr. Bison who was comfortable with grazing along the side of the road. I encouraged Barney not to linger here since the bison was so close to our truck!
After exploring the North Unit of the park, we drove an hour south to the South Unit where we stayed for a couple of days.