After driving two full days to drop off our oldest child at summer camp in Minnesota with his best friend, my husband and I then continued our long journey by heading to the great state of North Dakota. Last summer we explored South Dakota during our son’s camp week and unexpectedly loved it. This year we decided to visit the state that is often the last on the list for those trying to check off all fifty. A Best for Last Club even exists. In other words, North Dakota ain’t exactly Disney World. And we were about to discover it was less impressive than South Dakota – but we still found something to love – the people.

During our four days exploring the fourth least populated U.S. state, we can vouch there is not much going on outside its few large cities. Part of the reason we travel is for the insights gained on the journey. Though sparsely populated, North Dakota proved to teach me plenty with the few people that did call this state home.

While visiting the geographical center of North America, which is in Rugby, population 2,509, we met quite a character. As my husband and I were examining the not well maintained obelisk marking the claimed center of all North America, which I’ll add we had driven literally hours out of our way to see, Dustee Rose pulled into the parking lot, jumped out of her still running pickup truck, which was decked with a number of bumper stickers, and eagerly started talking to us – we were the only ones in the nondescript Mexican restaurant parking lot, which was also honored to be the home to the center of our great continent. Her first words announced that her daddy and granddaddy had built the structure we were admiring. Wow, impressive. Our interesting mainly one-sided conversation continued for quite some time and ended with me asking to have a picture with her, in which she gave me a huge hug like we were long lost friends. Thus concluded lesson one: North Dakotans are very proud of their heritage.

The second lesson came later that same day when we arrived at our Airbnb – the Nome Schoolhouse, which is in a town with a population of merely 51. My first thought had been to stay in Fargo, which is an hour away. However, being loyal to Airbnbs and not finding one quite to my full liking in the big city, I expanded my search. The Nome Schoolhouse caught my attention. Though it seemed different, the raving reviews convinced me that we might enjoy it. I decided to take the risk and booked it. So glad I did. It is hard to describe this incredibly unique location that could also be accurately described as a bed and breakfast and an actual school for those interested in all things yarn. Shortly after our evening arrival, while eating delicious pizza in the large dining area, we talked at length with a local farmer, who was in his 60s and had lived in Nome his whole life. As I heard his story, I was mesmerized. He was so relatable. The struggles we face in our big city are the same exact struggles faced in his small town. Different context and details but exactly the same core issues. Unexpected health problems that completely disrupt your life, taking months to recover from. Status signs that make you feel less than or better than your neighbors. In my neck of the woods, certain cars are status symbols. In North Dakota, farm equipment shouts the same message. Additionally, while a 2,000 acre farm sounded large and impressive to this city girl, it’s small to the locals. Meanwhile, some farmers can afford only to rent land to farm rather than own it. At times, adult sibling relationships are troublesome, leading to disunity within family businesses. Concerns about grown children weigh on aging parents. And that was my second lesson: North Dakotans face the same struggles we all face.

The farmer along with several other locals we interacted with at the Nome Schoolhouse taught me a final lesson I’ll share, though I definitely learned more. These people loved where they lived. They had no desire to leave. The grass was not greener on the other side. This was their home. Lesson 3: North Dakotans want to live in North Dakota.

I recognize that I am stereotyping the entire state based on a few encounters. But the point is, in a place I can’t imagine living or wanting to live — or anyone wanting to live —people actually want to be there. My trip to the least popular state challenged me to value my own state. To relish and appreciate it simply for the fact that it is mine.