Check out my latest piece on the intense and short supply run I made to Standing Rock, ND, site of the largest inter-tribal protection of the sacred in modern history.
There’s something up ahead blocking the highway. Look: Lights. Glowing like a football stadium. Military checkpoint.
“Hi, officer. We’re off to, uh, Fort Yates. That’s it. What’s all this for?”
Stupid question. He knows why we’re here, why my housemate Harrison and I are pulling up at 1 a.m. outside Bismarck, North Dakota, with a truck full of supplies.
“Oh, up ahead 20 miles we’ll find a protest?” I say. Officer peers into my truck.
“Supplies,” he murmurs to the soldier on his left. Won’t look me in the eyes though I’ve tried twice. Hard when he’s gripping a semiautomatic. “Move on through. Careful up ahead.”