Devil's Lake -- and It Is

I woke up to more rain and other than taking a couple of photos of the Warren Narrows, there was little else to do the rest of the day but drive in rain, rain and more rain. Not what I want in a trip at all. I stopped in Bemidji, Minnesota and Grand Forks, Nebraska to use the any internet access I could find.

I came to my planned stop, Turtle River State Park. I had fond memories of sitting in the rapids with Gary on a hot summer's day, letting the cool water flow over our tired bodies. Instead, I got more cold rain. After thinking it over, I realized I would be sitting in the driver's seat reading and doing sudoku puzzles for three hours if I stayed. I might as well use that time in the driver's seat driving. I consulted the North Dakota map and found another state park south of the city of Devil's Lake, where I was to perform the next day.  So Graham's Island State Park it would be.  I drove toward it.

This tale is about getting up to date maps. My ND map was eight year's old,  but when I was planning this tour, I thought, how much can change in North Dakota?

A lot.  Gary and I were here in the late 1980's or beginning of the 1990's, according to our memories.  Then Devil's Lake was growing a bit, but we were told the level was always going up or down.  It seemed a pleasant enough place to camp.  But as I got close to the city, the lake appeared sooner than I'd expected.  And kept appearing. Sometimes, on both sides of the highway.  

I drove through the city and turned left at the Graham's Island sign.  Almost immediately I hit bad road, the washboard kind.  I kept going because it was a short stretch.  Construction I thought.  Then I hit another, an another, and I began to notice that at these spots, the lake, that old devil, was on both sides of the highway.

I persevered and came to the next island sign and took the left.  Now I was on concrete, but the lake was creeping closer and closer.  The waves were whipping up, tossing water over the causeway, creating foam.  I would have turned back but there wasn't room.  Backing along the curves to the main highway didn't look promising.  I drove forward, figuring I would either reach the island or wind up in the lake. 

Finally, the island loomed.  I was safe, but when I checked in at the bait shop/reservation center, I asked if I could figure the causeway would be open the next day.  Would I be trapped?  I had a performance the next day!

The three young people there laughed.  The island had only been marooned three times so far this summer and only when it got windy so not to worry.  It was windy, but what, me worry?  Jarad, the park ranger, and Lindsey, and Britteny, the park attendants, regaled me with facts and stories.

It seems Devil's Lake has risen 25 feet in the last ten years.  The island used to be connected to the mainland by three roads (shown on my old map, but two are gone as the lake ate away land.  Once upon a time, people used to walk across the lake in two feet a water.  Now the previous bait shop is under fifteen feet of water. One hundred thousand acres of farmland are disappearing every year.  

It was still raining, so I settled in for another night in back of the car.   But in the middle of the night, I woke up and looked out to see stars.  Lots of stars.  The rains were over. 

I woke up to sunshine. My mood improved and I went out to find pickup truck after pickup truck pulling in, each towing a fishing boat.  It seems that Devil's Lake is one of the best walleye fishing spots in the nation.  If they made it in, I could make it out, and so I did, after spending most of the morning drying out and sorting my gear.  Then I headed back down the causeway with only time to take photos of the lake. ;

Of the causeway:

Of closed and disappeared roads:

And of barns in the act of disappearing:

Devil's Lake for sure!