HIKES
NCT Sunrise and Railroad Bridge over the Sheyenne River Photo: Joe Baldino
The Good People of the North Country Trail By Joe Baldino
T
he Executive Director of the Finger Lakes Trail Conference realized, after he read my article about going end-to-end on the FLT, that I was a guy searching for my next trail to hike, so he introduced me to Ruth and Dan Dorrough. I’m from Rochester, N.Y., and they don’t live far away, so they gave me a wonderful evening of pictures and advice after their multi-year end-to-end of the North Country Trail. Ruth gave me her North Dakota atlas that had the route mapped out for me. She warned me that the Trail was not marked well at the western end in North Dakota and that I needed to be careful. She also connected me with Tom Dahle and Karen Oby. Tom and Karen live in Bismarck, the closest city with an airport to the western terminus of the NCT. I assumed I would hike around 300 miles to the Minnesota border between the 1st and 15th of July 2018, which would put me in the vicinity of the Fargo airport. Tom reached out to people east of him to help me. I have never been accused of over-planning for my hiking endeavors. I subscribe to the “ready, shoot, aim” motto when it comes to preparation for my hikes. I can still hear my good friend Jacqui, the end-to-end coordinator for the Finger Lakes Trail, warning me to check the updated trail conditions website before I start, but I did not feel this was necessary. All I needed was my keen wits and ability to fly by the seat of my pants.
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The North Star
Even though I decided against a food-drop, my son Tyler bought me three maps from the NCTA, despite my protest that I had Ruth’s atlas. Late in the evening of June 30th, I began to pack my few personal items and the humongous amount of food for two weeks into my pack, and by the wee hours of July 1st I finished. The pack was incredibly heavy. The next day I sailed through security and off to my plane, giddy as one could be. I was about to begin the biggest adventure of my life.
The NCT in North Dakota, really challenging. Photo: Joe Baldino
The pilot’s announcement that we were making our final descent into the Bismarck airport woke me. I looked out of the window to get my first look at North Dakota. It was not what I imagined. From years of watching spaghetti westerns I thought North Dakota was flat, dry and barren grasslands. What I saw was a flat, lush and sparsely wooded land. I also saw hundreds of small round ponds I later learned were called “prairie pot holes.”
