What does the word “enchanted” mean to you? Does it spark images of castles? Perhaps a lush rainforest full of colorful birds? Maybe you’re a Disney fan and you just think of the family Madrigal? Or are you one of the few weirdos who knows that the truest enchantment of all is a 30-mile stretch of “highway” in North Dakota known as the Enchanted Highway?
Let’s talk about that.
Ask a random person to list the things they know about North Dakota and you’ll likely get a list that includes lots of pauses, suggestions of things that are actually in other states, and something along the lines of “not much.” To some extent, that’s true. There are roughly 11.3 people per square mile in North Dakota – which is 0.4 fewer than South Dakota, not that anyone would ever compare the two – for a grand total of about 780,000 residents. Considering 125,000 of those people live in Fargo (which is on the eastern border of the state, butting up against Minnesota), you would not be attacked for suggesting that North Dakota is, at best, sparse.
While North Dakota boasts Theodore Roosevelt National Park – a sort of Badlands-lite park with nice rock formations and bison – it is the least visited state in the country.
And yet somewhere in the western half of the state, about 50 miles east of that national park, is one of the weirdest attractions I’ve ever seen.
Imagine cruising along the interstate, having not seen a small city since Billings, Montana 330 miles west and no medium-sized city since… Spokane? Seattle? A long way. Suddenly, off on the side of the highway, still a mile or so ahead, an image begins to form. It looks like an eyeball. It’s definitely round and it has an inner circle with something between the inner circle and the outer edge. But what is it? You’re in western North Dakota, so even if you have someone in the car with you, they don’t have enough cell signal to look this up.
At this point you have no choice. Pull off the highway. As you exit near a town called Gladstone, population 271, you’re able to pull into a much-bigger-than-it-needs-to-be gravel parking lot under – you guessed it – the Guinness world record holder for the largest scrap metal sculpture, a piece called Geese in Flight. Turns out it wasn’t an eye – it was an eye-shaped outline with an empty interior circle and geese between the two. Frankly, even if you stand underneath it and laugh at how bizarre it is, it still looks like an eyeball.
Congratulations, you’ve reached the Enchanted Highway.
Okay, So What Exactly Is North Dakota’s Enchanted Highway?
The Enchanted Highway is a 32-mile stretch of road between the interstate and the town of Regent, North Dakota, home of artist Gary Greff. Greff’s claim to fame is this very highway, which feels a bit like a self-fulfilling prophecy. North Dakota’s tourism board says there are seven giant sculptures, the smallest of which is probably 60 feet long or 30 feet tall and they are all… pretty weird. They are definitely impressive, and they are genuine works of art, though less in the elegant put-it-in-a-museum type of art and more in the this-is-totally-worth-pulling-off-the-highway-in-North-Dakota-for type of art.
The kicker of my experience on the Enchanted Highway is that it is ostensibly an excuse to keep (or put, I guess) the artist’s hometown on the proverbial map. The terminus of the highway is Regent, North Dakota, and the trail of sculptures leads you there from the interstate. To help drive home how sparse North Dakota can be, as referenced above, the highway stretches 32 miles and has 7-8 sculptures. They’re not exactly right next to each other. That use of empty space feels very appropriate.
We arrived in Regent at dinner time on a Sunday in summer. We did not see a single person, a sign of life, or a single business that was open, save the gas station which was on credit-card-only mode. The “end” of the Enchanted Highway is the Enchanted Castle, which is designed in the same vein as the sculptures on the highway but is an actual motel with castle sculptures and whatnot out front. It looked a bit like an old high school with a giant metallic knight and drawbridge. The only doors we tried were locked.
And that’s it. Once you’ve reached the end of the road, your only choice is to return from whence you came – the interstate 32 miles away, past a bunch of farms and giant sculptures you’ve already seen. It is a decidedly strange experience. Whether “enchanted” is the right word is entirely subjective. But if you’re in the neighborhood and want to spend 90 minutes doing anything other than losing your mind at 80 mph across I-94, it’s worth your time.
(Photo credit: Skvader)