Once a curiosity, canola now paints whole townships a startling chrome yellow in June, and North Dakota presses more of the oilseed than any other state in the country.
A generation ago, few plains farmers could have named the crop that now dominates the northern-tier counties each June. Canola — bred from rapeseed to yield a light, low-erucic-acid cooking oil — has found in North Dakota's cool nights and long days a nearly ideal home, and the state now leads the nation in its production by a wide margin.
From Rapeseed to Kitchen Staple
The bloom is the crop's public face, a fluorescent yellow that draws motorists to the shoulder with their cameras, but the grower's attention is on the pods that follow. Canola shatters easily when overripe, spilling seed on the ground, so many growers swath the crop into windrows and let it cure before combining.
From the almanac's reckoning:
- North Dakota produces the large majority of the nation's canola.
- Growers often swath canola into windrows to prevent the ripe pods from shattering.
- In rotation, canola breaks cereal disease cycles and improves soil structure.
The rotation value is as prized as the oil. Slotted between wheat crops, canola breaks disease cycles and leaves the soil in good tilth for the grain that follows. The almanac reckons it among the most quietly transformative crops to reach the plains in living memory.
Elsewhere in the Almanac
Reading the Sky: Drought, Irrigation and the Missouri's Water
In a state where most crops drink only what the clouds provide, the recurring specter of drought keeps every grower's eye on the rain gauge — and turns some toward the water of the Missouri.
Flax Returns: The Blue-Flowered Crop Finds New Favor
Prized for its oil and its omega-rich seed, flax has staged a quiet comeback across the plains, its brief blue bloom once again dotting the northern fields.
Passing the Land On: The Delicate Art of Farm Succession
As a generation of plains farmers reaches its later years, families across the state wrestle with the hardest harvest of all — handing the farm to the next hands, or letting it go.