歪歪漫画

Visibility limited my ability to see into the distance, but I drove westbound on the highway to our daughters鈥� basketball games last week and called my husband by speaker phone. We drove separately due to work schedules, following one another to the game.

I knew where we were and could see the grain bin and grove of trees to the south of the highway. The air temperature was below zero, the wind chill even lower. We were 13 miles from any rural community.

I said to Nathan, 鈥淐oming up here on the left is a farmstead that we should pause and remember how good our life is today because it is where my great-grandmother was raised with her six siblings, originally in a sod house by her widowed mother.鈥�

Nathan said, 鈥淵es, imagine being out there today.鈥�

I sat on my heated car seat, holding onto my heated steering wheel in my warm, gasoline-powered four-wheel drive vehicle, with my husband driving similarly, talking to one another via mobile phones, and we continued to the game.

Since then, on a few more game-day road trips, my imagination swirls of how my ancestors endured each winter to survive, how little they had, and how much we have been given.

In the depths of feeling like we鈥檙e being challenged by a difficult task, as simple as driving in tough winter conditions in brutal cold, it鈥檚 a humble reminder to reflect on those before us, the trail they blazed, and the sacrifices they made to build up a future for the next generation.

My mother-in-law talked on a recent drive to a game about riding on her horse, Spotty, with her brother, with no saddle, which kept them warmer on winter days to and from their farm to get to school in the winter. Her teacher stayed in the schoolhouse in the winter as it was too far from her to get home daily, and she went home to her nearby town only on weekends.

I don't want to return to how it used to be. I like the school bus picking up one daughter for school while the other daughter drives herself. Ask them why they don't ride together.

I also do not want to forget where we came from and honor the progress we may take for granted, even in our remote, rural American corners. My girls are not riding a horse to school together any winter of their lives, and their teachers go to their homes after school each day.

Katie Pinke / Agweek

While doing things the way they used to be is not all wrong, I am proud of rural America鈥檚 evolution and push for progress. Agweek reports on agriculture's technology growth and advancements weekly. While we utilize technology to keep rural America pushing forward, I still want to pause to make sure my kids know just a bit about where we've come from ahead of their time.

To my teenagers, my childhood of 30 to 40 years ago is the olden days 鈥� not sod houses, where our Norwegian ancestors lived as I think of the olden days.

This week,our girls played games in Glenfield, North Dakota, population 97, a part of the Griggs-Midkota sports co-op.

I walked into the gym to see the banners hanging on the wall when Midkota girls basketball went to the state tournament for many years during my high school days and won a state basketball championship in 1995.

As daughter Anika played in a game and daughter Elizabeth walked by to go to the locker room, she looked up at me. I said, 鈥淭his gym is home to a state championship girls team and a former Miss Basketball winner.鈥�

Elizabeth smiled to acknowledge me peppering her with girls' sports history. Remembering where we've come from matters to me, but it wasn't on her mind.

Midkota鈥檚 grades four through six sang the Star-Spangled Banner before the varsity game. Rural America can progress, but we remain true to who we are and our values.

Read more of Katie Pinke's The Pinke Post:

1. Stay out of the future to see what life brings
2. Why did a stranger gift me a subscription to a local newspaper?
3. Buying a 4-H beef heifer on your 16th birthday
4. Support the next generation as they blaze their own trail

We can remember where we come from, who we are, the influences before us and acknowledge the past. We don't need a return to the yesteryears.

As our girls played basketball, my mom and mother-in-law sat by me in the stands. Neither of them had an opportunity to play competitive high school sports in their rural North Dakota schools. They now cheer and watch their granddaughters compete on winter nights.

When we drove home last night in the dark, blowing snow across the same highway as we passed the original homestead where my ancestors once survived in a sod house and instead of pondering how little they had to survive, I filled with gratitude and happiness.

While they may not recognize all of our progress in today鈥檚 modern agriculture, farms, and ranches, I hoped they would be proud of the progress of generations who followed them, staying close to roots and pushing forward to compete in the future.

Pinke is the publisher and general manager of Agweek. She can be reached at kpinke@agweek.com, or connect with her on Twitter @katpinke.