#4: [29-May-23]

#3: [02-Aug-04]

#2: [24-May-04]

#1: [22-Dec-00]

15-Jan-2026 --

47N 97W is located just 10 miles [16 km] northwest of Fargo's Hector International Airport, the busiest in North Dakota — if any point had to be classified as the state's "tourist confluence", it'd be this one. Being in the middle of a crop field, I suspect that a morally sound growing season visit would be near-impossible... but prospective tourists can take solace in the fact that they may instead visit in January, when there are less plants blocking the way. Joking aside, Jack was actually flying into Fargo on this mid-January afternoon — his first visit to North Dakota — and it having been seven months since we last collaboratively completed a confluence, it was all but imperative that we log one today. On leaving the airport, we set our sights a few exits up I-29 to a nondescript section of the presently snow-crusted Red River Valley.

Heading northbound out of Fargo, the 47th parallel came and went faster than anticipated, and we ended up approaching the confluence from the northeast. After getting off of the interstate in the tiny town of Argusville and driving west for three miles [5 km], we arrived at a north-south grid road that runs just west of the 97th meridian. The road, 165th Avenue SE, was signed as a "Minimum Maintenance Road" — this was immediately obvious, it being covered in hard snow and patches of ice. We (perhaps unwisely) committed to this route and carefully followed it southbound for a much slower three miles, toward 47°N. In a few spots, lumps of crusted snow scraped against the undercarriage of my low-clearance vehicle, but it was otherwise uneventful thanks to having sufficient momentum. (Had I stopped on an icy section, it would've been trouble to get moving again.) As luck would have it, the "minimum maintenance" portion of 165th Ave ended just before we reached the confluence's field (at County Road 32); out of many options, we'd accidentally picked the path of most resistance.

Our spirits high for not getting stuck in the most comically avoidable way (on an entirely untreacherous travel day), we pulled over a few dozen meters north of 47°N (view looking south from our parking spot) and surveyed the path to our goal: a flat, barren field covered in a partially melted sheet of old snow. Probably what most people imagine when the Dakotas come to mind! Jack and I set off eastbound into this mundane domain, the GPS indicating only 500 meters to the point. Apart from shin-deep snow drifts along the very edge of the field, we enjoyed a perfectly ideal (if not slightly muddy) walk — little more than five minutes later, the coordinates ticked within close range of all-zeroes. After a brief shuffle inside a very particular two or three meter radius, the GPS showed a perfect reading: Jack and I had arrived at 47N 97W! This marked Jack's first North Dakota confluence and northernmost to date, my 30th successful confluence, and another one of many visits we've made to the 97th meridian west (ranging from Texas to Manitoba).

So commenced the high-octane sightseeing... gathering requisite photos, taking an (unimpressive) air temperature measurement, and enjoying the comfortable conditions nature had afforded us. Eastern North Dakota was in the midst of a midwinter mild and dry spell, appreciable snow not having fallen in over two weeks; it was slightly above freezing [34°F/~1°C], just shy of Fargo's record high for that day [39°F/~4°C]! The recent conditions had revealed patches of bare earth and a few heads of corn presumably leftover from the harvest — this had evidently been a corn field last summer, a very common crop in Cass County (second-most by acreage, after soybeans). The surroundings were pancake-flat and completely still... no vehicles on the adjacent gravel roads, no animals, nor any wind. Fortunately, as two of the world's most easily impressed tourists, this was sufficient for satisfaction: it was indeed one of the confluence visits of all time.

After getting our photos of corn in the snow, we decided it was time to depart. Retracing our steps west, Jack and I reached the vehicle about 15 minutes after first setting out — despite the season, it'd been a remarkably pleasant and easy mission! Confluence hunting hunger satiated, we hit the road northbound toward Grand Forks for an afternoon of county clinching and seeing college friends. The following day, much colder air (and borderline blizzard conditions) rolled into the Red River Valley: 47N 97W would've undoubtedly been much riskier to access within 24 hours of our visit. So goes January on the Northern Plains, and we were glad to have utilized the calm day in service of confluence hunting.