The winds of change and uncertainty blow across North Dakota, my destination last week for a long-anticipated pheasant hunt. Actually, the wind was blowing in gusts up to 50 miles per hour as we disembarked at the Bismarck airport.

If Angus King is right that Maine could be the Saudi Arabia of wind power, North Dakota would be the entire Middle East. From the plane, we see a long string of wind towers, and many more are planned for the windy plains.

A recent discovery of massive amounts of oil in the western section of the state brings the promise of prosperity to an otherwise dismal economic future in this state that has always been dependent on farming.

Huge increases in costs without commensurate rises in market prices challenge North Dakota farmers just like they do Maine farmers. Some have been able to access the windfall federal subsidies for corn destined to be converted to ethanol and payments for leaving land in a conservation category, unharvested fields called PLOTS (Private Land Open to Sportsmen). The feds call them CRP (Conservation Reserve Program) lands, which we decide means "can't grow potatoes." But many small farmers are unable to keep up with the costs of farming.

Farming has always been a challenging job. But in today's global market place, both the opportunities and the challenges are immense.

Here's a good example from North Dakota. Jim Binstock of Rockin Rooster Outfitters, our farmer/guide, sits at our supper table enjoying a feast of Maine lobsters that traveled with us from Maine. In addition to farming a square mile of ground, Binstock drives a long-haul truck and operates a successful pheasant guiding business. Only the hunting seems to be working for him today.

He tells us about his once-profitable winter trucking business hauling fertilizer from Regina, Saskatchewan, to North Dakota farmers. This year all of that fertilizer is going China. Binstock is thinking about selling his trucks. He doesn't know where farmers will get their fertilizer next year.

Regent, the small rural town where we set up housekeeping for our hunt, did not suffer a collapse of real estate prices, because prices never lifted off rock bottom.

Binstock purchased the house we're staying in a few years ago for $7,000. Yes, that's right, just $7,000. It's a three-bedroom, two-bath comfortable place, nothing fancy but very adequate housing for seven Maine hunters.

A group of non-resident hunters bought the house next door five years ago for $9,000. They've put $10,000 or so into it and, with hopeless optimism, have put it on the market for $52,000. Binstock says it won't sell at that price.

One advantage of always being on the tail end of the national economy is that the bad times are not appreciably distinguishable from the boom times (just like Maine). North Dakota banks have been very conservative and need no bailout. Credit is readily available here.

Opportunities to buy are not. Regent's auto dealer amuses me. There are no vehicles on the lot. Potential buyers are offered a catalog from which they can order a new car. No kicking the tires here.

And you can forget the purchase of alcohol. It's not sold in supermarkets, that's for sure, or any other markets. We discover a tiny store in Bismarck with a very limited supply of beer, wine and hard stuff. In Regent, only the saloon sells booze.

And it's a good thing credit is readily available because food prices are off the chart. Desperate for a snack, in Regent's Coop grocery store I purchase a box of Chees-its for an astonishing $4.59, about a nickel a nugget.

When we inquire why steak prices are so high in the Bismarck supermarket, we're informed that most of it comes from other nations. And we thought we were in cattle country.

It's been a tough year here. While Maine was drowning, North Dakota was praying for rain. It never came. We hunt through stunted cornfields that never produced an ear, dust rising with each footstep.

But the people of North Dakota remain wonderfully friendly and hospitable. In need of one ingredient for breakfast, a member of our troop walked over to the gas station that also has a few grocery items. Alas, not the item we needed. And at 6:30 am, the Coop wasn't open yet.

No problem. The fellow at the gas station called someone who opened the Coop early, so we could get what we needed. Now that's friendly.

Today, the morning after this brutal election, you could do worse than live in North Dakota or Maine.

George Smith is executive director of the Sportsman's Alliance of Maine. He lives in Mount Vernon and can be reached at george@samcef.org.