The Western Adventure - Day 2 - Now This Doesn't Look a Thing Like Indiana

On Day 2 we decided to get up whenever we felt like it.  We woke up early, even by Central Daylight Time standards.   The sun wasn't even up! 

 Question:  Is is wrong that I thoroughly enjoyed having 2 queen beds in our hotel room?

(I had a bed A.L.L. to myself and slept surrounded by every pillow provided -- all 6 of them)

At breakfast (the complimentary Continental one) there was a pancake maker that looked exactly like my old hp printer/copier.  We watched with mesmerized gazes as one of the guests pushed the button for 2 copies --uh pancakes-- and marveled as the cooked (undercooked) pancakes emerged from the side and onto a waiting plate. We realized right then that we gotta get out more!  

Oh, the wonders of technology!!

"You want me to fix you some of those?" I asked the equally entranced Cowboy.

"Pfff, no," which translates to "Duh!  You crazy?  I ain't eatin' a copy of a pancake!"

After our lovely breakfast we set out for the day's destination:  Rapid City, South Dakota...by way of the Badlands National Park.  My chatter was equal to that of the previous day.  The subject was barns and silos.  Here is a pretty barn in southern Minnesota.  You can probably tell by my typing that I'm already used to being "West" ... like it's old hat now.  Yeah, I'm a seasoned traveler.

As we traveled along the bottom of Minnesota, the day brightened...and my love of farm landscapes --farmscapes-- increased.  Did I just invent a new word?  Feel free to use it in every day speech.
   

Prairie - all the way to the horizon. 

 Cowboy came up with a new game for us.  The object:  We would spot something way ahead at the horizon - like a water tower or a grain terminal - and estimate its distance from us at the moment we saw it.   We would use the odometer as the distance verifier.  

{I stink at measurement-guessing...but I played along}

You must understand that he expects precision....11.5 miles, 18.75 miles, etc. I'm of the less precise sort... I dunno, 9-ish miles, give or take.

Welcome to my world....in casual discussion we use up a lot of words agreeing on the amount of time something took or the time of day when something began.....or like, what time it is.  He demands precision.  (None of the clocks in our house report the accurate time -- or the same time as another--....which Cowboy hates with a passion ---my contention:  anybody with common sense can tell  if it's daylight...or if it's close to mealtime or bedtime)  Just get it in the ballpark...that's all I need.

Needless to say, he won every time.  But to my credit, I did really try to come up with plausible guesses....and I let him gloat when he won.   Could I be headed for a wife-of-the-year title?   No, because of the whole clock thing. 

Here we are at a rest stop in South Dakota.  "Wait!  haha  I just took a picture of our shadows!"  I announced.  I think he was about ready to rip my little pink camera from my hands. Those are his work gloves tucked into his belt you see between our shadows.  He's always prepared.  You never know when you might have to wrangle a calf or fix a fence....even on vacation.

The beauty of the prairie never ceased to astonish me.  I loved it all the more when I was reminded by a sign at the rest stop in South Dakota that "Prairie" is French for meadow.  And who doesn't love the word "meadow"?  Yeah, I'm one of the folks who MUST read the informative signs along the way.  You'll hear more about that later.

We took note of the few trees (by Indiana standards) along the way.   Many were in various stages of death.  Curiosity got the better of my Cowboy.  He decided that he must find out what kind of trees they were and what might be killing them.  He phoned a friend.  Our friend Mike is an Indiana boy who went to college in South Dakota.  Family obligations brought him back home to Indiana after college, but he vowed he would move back to South Dakota --  permanently.  That was over 40 years ago.  Indiana kept its hold on him.  Funny how that happens.  Mike told Cowboy that during his college years he volunteered to help plant Russian olive trees around, but he didn't know what type of tree the Cowboy was curious about.  He asked us what we thought of his beloved South Dakota.  We told him that it still looked so much like Indiana.  He said, "Yeah, well just wait till you cross the Missouri River."

Tenacious to a fault, Cowboy had me get the number to the South Dakota department of natural resources.  Passed around to different departments and directors, we never got an answer about the trees.  We stopped for lunch at ....you guessed it....Arby's where Cowboy even asked an old man if he knew.  He didn't.   

Give it up, Cowboy.  We may never know.  They looked like cottonwoods to me....but what do I know?

"75!!  Get a picture of that!"  exclaimed an excited Cowboy.  It's the fastest speed limit we had both seen to date.  Really, it takes so little to amaze us.

The Missouri River at last!  Beyond that river was a vista that didn't look a thing like Indiana.  The second our eyes caught sight of those smooth mounds of earth divided by tree-filled crevices, Cowboy declared, "Now, I could live HERE!"  I withheld my dubious reply, but remained awestruck by the beauty of South Dakota beyond the Missouri.  Our friend Mike was right.  If memory serves, I was rendered speechless for a spell.

The spell was broken as quickly as it was cast:  "Don't you feel like we're on the set of Dances with Wolves?"

"Kevin Costner's a good actor," was the reply. Now, was that a "yes"?

We wound our way through Badlands National Park -- along with "pert near" 14.5 trillion other sightseers.  We stopped at several lookout points so I could capture the view on the digital SD card;  he used our old Canon 35mm (confession:  I still haven't developed the film....the wife-of-the-year title just slipped from my grasp.  Ah well, there's always next year)   

Just incredible!  What a treasure our land is.  Doesn't it make you want to break out in song - Woody Guthrie style?  We left the Badlands and headed for our hotel in Rapid City.  From the interstate we saw a Cabela's store.  Cowboy gasped for joy!  And a Toyota dealership!

~~What?~~

We checked into our hotel room, unloaded our luggage, and saw a sign that said "pet area" near the door. 

"See?"  he chortled.

"Don't even say it!"  I chided.  He was back on the "shoulda brought my dog".

"Tomorrow we'll go to Cabela's first thing,"  he announced, "Let's go to the Toyota dealer now and see if they have a truck I want."

~~What? (again)~~

We did go to the dealership where he haggled with a salesman (which is one of his most favorite things to do).  They "couldn't get together" on the price, which, in my mind, was a good outcome.  We were in Rapid City, South Dakota!  1030.3 miles from the Western Edge of Indiana!

"You'd be ok driving a new truck home, right?"  he asked as if it were rhetorical.

I shrugged, "I guess."

"Too bad he wouldn't come down on the price."

"Yeah, too bad." (I didn't mean that, though)

After supper in the hotel's adjoining restaurant and a little TV time, we said good night to Day 2 (each in a queen-size bed of our own).