Painted Canyon, North Dakota - November 4, 2009 - Daybreak

As you've probably figured out by now, dawn is my favorite time of day out here on the road. 

At the risk of being trite, dawn is a wonderful time for a sense of renewal, and yet it can also be a time of tremendous foreboding and devastation. On one hand, dawn is a time of increasing daylight, dew, birds and animals coming to life again - a new beginning. And, on the other hand, most of the great military battles throughout history have been waged at dawn, including D-Day and day three at Gettysburg. Dawn is also the perfect time to experience the game of golf in its purest form (just ask the Dawn Patrol*), yet firing squads like to pull the trigger as dawn as well. Some might say, in many instances, there isn't much difference between the two activities. Take your pick, both situations inspire great awe. 

Sunsets have a grandeur all their own, but they are a time of winding down, a time of peace and reflection, a door closing so that another may open the next day. As for me over the past fourteen plus months, I've seen some amazing sunrises - from L.A. to Auburn, Maine. I've tried to write about some of them; others defy description that would do them justice. I've said it before, but it is worth repeating - every state has its own personality, and so does every sunrise - even if you're in the same place two or three days in a row.

Another one of my favorite sunrises was the day I happened to be in western North Dakota at exactly the right time. Painted Canyon is one of those magical places that exist in this country, and very few people even know it's there. The canyon sits astride I-94 and is largely in North Dakota - it leaks slightly into Montana, but only for a few miles. I took a bunch of photos at daybreak that morning, but only the two on the left were clear enough to be worth showing here (and even they are not all that great). The other three were taken earlier in the year on the day that we actually discovered the place. 

Beth was driving that day; early in the day but not dawn. I was sleeping at the time. We were heading east across Montana and into North Dakota when she started looking for a place to make a pit stop. Then, all of a sudden, there it was - Painted Canyon - in all of its glory on a sunny morning in June. And, to make things even better, there was a rest area/viewing area right in the middle of the canyon, so she pulled off the road. When she stopped the truck, she said to me, "K.C., wake up. You gotta see this."

Geologically, the Canyon is a remarkable place. The terrain is actually comprised of relatively soft materials, so it is subject to somewhat more rapid erosion by the wind and the extraordinarily severe weather patterns that exist in that part of the country. Think about it, in the summer western North Dakota can be warm, sunny and altogether pleasant. In the winter, severe and lingering ice and snow storms come through on short notice and temperatures can go for days without ever rising to zero. The vegetation that dares to exist there is low, generally ugly and very determined.

What all of this has created is a vast canyon of colored layers, mounds and nodules and valleys that go off in all directions with no seeming pattern; low ridges and slopes scarred with gullies carved by rainwater and melting ice and snow. And, as I said, the whole area is very soft by geological standards, so in a few hundred or maybe a thousand years, the whole place will look very different. My guess is that it will still be a visual feast, but what you can see today will be gone forever. It really gives you a sense of "just passing through..."

Now, add to that visual the sun breaking the horizon at a far distant eastern point, and the canyon below gradually coming into focus. In the span of 15 minutes, it goes from completely dark down below you to one of the most inspiring vistas anywhere in the country. So, if you ever get the chance to drive across I-80 in North Dakota, time it so that it's daylight when you get to the western edge, and check out the rest area just before you get to Montana. Better yet, time it so that it's daybreak, and bring a camera.

* For those of you who are unaware, the Dawn Patrol is a group of four individuals (and, sometimes an occasional fill-in) who, after nearly 50 years of playing early morning golf together, still believe that the best thing one can do on a day off is to get up before the sun and be standing on tee number one at the very moment when there is just enough light to see where the first shot lands.