Veeder: Making family memories and enjoying the musical in Medora
"Coming Home" columnist Jessie Veeder reflects on the magic and scenery of Medora, North Dakota.
MEDORA, N.D. — I’m writing this as my girls are sleeping in two hotel beds in the middle of the Badlands in North Dakota. In fact, the hotel is named the Badlands Hotel. Or is it motel? I’ve always wondered about the difference between the two.
The lights are off and I’m brewing hotel/motel coffee, hoping they sleep another hour or so on Mountain Time because it was a late night coming in from the musical last night.
If you’re from North Dakota or a state within a decent driving distance from it, you probably have memories tucked away from the time or times you’ve visited this little tourist town in the Badlands. That’s why Medora exists really. To make those wholesome memories for you.
If you were a kid during your first visit (and I hope you were because, like Disneyland, that’s really where the magic is), you remember ice cream cones on the boardwalk, wagon rides, mini golf and that really cool wooden playground that looks like the town itself. You played there with your cousins at a family reunion or your classmates on an elementary school field trip to learn about Teddy Roosevelt and the Marquis de Mores and visit the national park.
If you were a mom or a dad or a grandparent during your first visit, you probably made everyone get dressed up in vintage Western costumes and get their black-and-white, old-timey picture taken. Or maybe you told everyone they needed to put on long pants and boots or tennis shoes and meet up at the trail rides and only some of them listened and so there were some sore butts the rest of the weekend.
And no matter who you were when you made the first memories, you remember that it is hot down here in the summer in the deep Little Missouri River Valley, surrounded by high clay cliffs and yucca plants, cedar trees and prairie dogs.
And, of course, you remember the musical.
For those of you who have never been to Medora, this is what it’s known for. “The Greatest Show in the West!” running in the Burning Hills Amphitheater built right into one of those steep Badlands banks since 1965. It’s pretty spectacular really, just the venue itself. I go to take in that view and appreciate the vision and ambition that brings families from around the world to our little corner of it. Where else do cowboys and cowgirls in patriotic costumes carry the American flag up and down the steep banks of the wilderness under the spotlight of the production? And man, do I always want to be the one on that horse carrying the flag in the spotlight. That feeling doesn’t change when you get older I guess.
Anyway, there’s singing and dancing and clogging and a little bit of reenactment and special guest performers (last night it was basketball tricks) and fireworks at the end! They really go all out and I don’t care who you are, it’s wholesome as heck, and you leave there feeling a little lighter maybe, especially if you bring a kid or two with you so they can remind you to watch with a little less of the adult cynicism that you’ve come to acquire over the years and more of their innocence.
That’s the part that got me last night sitting between my two young daughters who were wearing the blinking, sparkly, light-up cowgirl hats we bought them at the start of the show, because who could resist? They were so dang cute and they were experiencing this little North Dakota kid milestone for the first time. (Well, technically the last time my oldest was here, she was a baby and had a massive blowout during the first dance number and we had to buy her a Medorable T-shirt to get us through the rest of the show.) And next to us were their cousins and their grandma and their aunts and that’s why this place holds a special soft spot for so many around here. Because that’s the sort of crew you bring along with you to a place like this, to do something together and feel good (and usually sorta sweaty) about it.
And so that’s what we’re doing today when the kids wake up. They’re putting their light-up cowgirl hats back on and we’re turning into tourists in our own countryside. We’re mini-golfing. We’re lazy-rivering. We’re shopping. We’re listening to music and, dangit, we’re getting ice cream (of course we’re getting ice cream) in this little gem or a tourist town with the other moms and dads and grammas and grandpas and aunts and uncles because, if you can get away for a night, this is what you do in North Dakota in the summer…
And the kids are stirring now and my little sister's knocking with my latte from the cute shop down the street, so we better get to it!