A Tale of Two Cities

 

The flares that often light up the sky to the south of our house in Williston. On a cloudy night it can look like the fires of Tolkien's Mordor. I name this flares Mutt and Jeff, two of many of our "friendly neighborhood flares" in Suburban Mordor.

 

After five years working in Williston, we have taken jobs in the small town of Beach, North Dakota, a few hours south. Since we still have a house in Williston, we have visited there at least once a week to do maintenance and check on things. It would be nice to rent it out, but finding someone to trust in a town where people trash houses and flee makes it hard. What has been interesting is comparing and contrasting the two places, which are different on many levels.

First, the code-switching of traveling between a small rural community and a community that is more like a large urban area in character is interesting when juxtaposed. In Beach, a town of around 900 people it is rude not to say hello to someone on the street or to wave when driving by, while in Williston, a town of nearly 30,000, it is considered at least weird (if not rude) to do that to people you don't know. It is an interesting switch, and I sometimes forget to say hello and wave in the small town and not to do it in the big one. Humans are tribal creatures, and small communities are, in many ways, more convivial. In contrast, larger ones foster an alienation that causes people to be overly cautious about who they say hello to or make eye contact with. I  remember when I first moved to the Twin Cities after living 26 years in small town, rural North Dakota, it took me some time to get out of the habit of saying hello, making eye contact, or waving to people.

Secondly, I have enjoyed living in a community where I don't have to start the car for everything. Being a five—to ten-minute bike ride from the dollar store, grocery store, work, the clinic and everything in town means I can avoid the wear and tear on the car and my nerves from driving everywhere. It is what I was used to living many years in Mayville, North Dakota half a lifetime ago. In addition, I get my exercise and contribute to lowering my carbon and resource consumption footprint. Small towns are often microcosms of how we should design communities with all amenities and services within easy reach. How much bigger does bad urban design that forces us to get into a car for every little thing make our individual footprint? In the freeway clogged, spread out Twin Cities, just getting a loaf of bread would be a 45 minute round trip. Living where I don't have to drive and fight traffic reduces my stress level a great deal.

Williston meanwhile has a compact old urban core that could have been capitalized on, but beyond that, the new development is all built in such a haphazard, disconnected, and spread-out manner that getting anywhere requires driving. It is absurd how development leapfrogs over open land, leaving vast tundras between housing and businesses. It is as if urban planning was some afterthought. Zoning that isolates homes from business means I have to travel long distances for everything. It is just as well since the demise of this city will follow the demise of the oil industry, so its days are numbered. Today alone, I've started the car several times to drive to accomplish minor errands. How much larger is my resource, consumption and carbon footprint in Williston as opposed to Beach just because of bad urban design?