The primary challenge with our motto of “it’s the people, not the places” is that as you start going west on I-90 from Rochester, MN is that the number of people diminishes significantly and the distances between them increases.
In Rochester, however, we were treated to the best of Northwestern hospitality from the Freedman family and were treated to an enlightening and fabulous tour, from their future son-in-law, Casey, of the world famous, and extremely impressive Mayo Clinic.
For example, the entire state of South Dakota has only 600,000 people and in the land between two of the larger cities, Sioux Falls and Rapid City, you are looking at a distance of about 500 miles and where the larger, more significant towns have populations that average in the 800 range, with only a few exceptions.
One of them is Mitchell, South Dakota, home of the ‘world-famous’ Mitchell Corn Palace, where murals on the outside and inside are made from various colors of corn into differently themed motifs every year. Aside from the Corn Palace, Mitchell served as a destination of another sort. Since South Dakota was really the first state we were to visit where I was sure we would not know anyone since we left New York, I had told Tamar that it was the state where I would get my hair cut, something for which she had been pleading since we exited Manhattan. Complete with old-fashioned rotating Barber pole, Dave, the local barber, served as our introduction to the people and culture of South Dakota.
His family had arrived from Iowa in 1900 and he says that “South Dakotans must have pride in themselves, since no one else has pride in us.” I confirmed his belief that the rest of the country spends little time thinking about South Dakota. He also told me that the recent crime wave in the state, which had been the headlines in the local paper, was most likely the work of Hispanic and other immigrant workers. His explanation: native South Dakotans all know each other or know someone who knows someone and this has built a deep, strong bond between the locals such as to minimize crime. The foreigners, however, don’t have this sense of community and thus don’t feel the bond of social responsibility to the community.
South Dakota is in the midst of a fierce set of political races right now, for the lone congressperson, the Governor, and for Senator. The local commercials are non-stop political ads, many of them supported/paid for by outside interests. On the surface, you wonder why, but if you think about it, having the incumbent Democrat Senator, Tim Johnson, defeated by John Thune (he the current congressman), could change the direction of the entire United States.
Chamberlain, South Dakota sits on the banks of the Missouri River, about halfway across the state, and with its 1100 foot high bluffs overlooking what is a very wide body of water, makes for a dynamic vista. It’s also at this point that the plains of South Dakota and Minnesota, which had been covered by corn, soy, and wheat, give way to the prairies, hills, and cattle ranches of western South Dakota. Lastly, Chamberlain was a major stop on Lewis and Clark’s’ voyage; they were there for 3 days to dry out provisions.
When you cross the Missouri River, you enter a different America. The distances become even greater and the population even sparser. This is the Prairie.
The lone signs on the highway drive home the message about Wall Drug (which is South Dakota’s equivalent of Zabar’s as Dave put it, but is really just a themed department store selling everything from Fudge to leather goods to clothing, but it is an attraction, that’s for sure. We took advantage of the town to get one of those old-time historical photos, where Tamar was dressed as a Saloon girl and I was an outlaw bandit. I’ll email if you like.)
On the outskirts of Wall, S.D. are the Badlands, which now ranks up there with one of the most impressive places I have been. They are called the Badlands because of the rough terrain and harsh conditions which exist there. Once upon a time, it was a lake, but over the centuries, the water gave way, leaving different sedimentary layers and hills and canyons of unique rock formations. Think of those rainbow colored cakes where you can see each layer and you have a mild interpretation of the colors and layers of the Badlands. More impressively, however, are the different shapes which have been left. Some are cliffs, some are mounds, other hills, others still valleys and canyons, but as you drive through, you can’t help but feel the serenity of the place. You can imagine what it must have been like for the Indians and for the first white settlers to try and cross this forsaken wilderness. It’s really like a desert, but with rock formations that astound the imagination. Words can’t do it justice. Look up Badlands online.
I’m going to take a moment to thank G-d right now, because until we reached Rapid City, SD, which is about 70 miles from the Badlands and 15 minutes from Mt. Rushmore, we had nothing but perfect traveling and driving weather.
When we arrived in Rapid City, it started to drizzle, but nothing serious.
Soon, thereafter, we got to Mt. Rushmore. A cold rain and some fog had moved in, but the faces were clearly visible and while some people surely have come, looked, and left, I could not do that. The Visitor Center was excellently done and showed the single-minded determination of Lutzon Borglum, the sculptor whose contract was the result of a tourism idea of a South Dakota state historian to try and draw revenues to the Black Hills of South Dakota.
(Newsflash: Tamar and I are now driving through Wyoming, which is by far the biggest of the “Big Sky Country” we have seen to date and the radio is playing Willie Nelson’s “On the Road Again,” our theme song if there ever was one, considering we have gone 2,115 miles to date. And if that is not enough, we’ve just caught our first glimpse of the Big Horn Mountains.)
Not only did the Visitor Center show what one person is capable of doing with enough focus and determination; it also made me feel very patriotic and appreciative. Washington’s face was there because of his contribution to the independence of the country, Jefferson for opening up the West (even though Ambrose-who died today we heard on the radio-comments that Jefferson’s initial policy of friendship and trade with the Indians was basically overrun by settlers on the frontier, whom he could not control, whose attitude became “get out of the way or be killed”), Lincoln for his commitment to liberty, and Roosevelt, because in the minds of the originators of the concept, he represented he enlightened man of the 20th century.
Each face is over 60 feet high and the work took over 15 years to complete (if I recall correctly). It really is a triumphant work of human skill.
We spent the Sabbath relaxing in the Black Hills National Forest and took a
4 mile hike through the woods. It’s called the Black Hills because the trees are so thick as to make them look black. We were in the town of Hill City (pop. 600) and enjoyed the day of not driving and resting.
The American Indian influence is quite strongly felt and it seems that the modern day South Dakotans make a point of honoring the Native Americans. For example, this coming Monday, which is Columbus Day, is called Native American Day there and is a holiday. Though we did not make it, there is a memorial to Crazy Horse being carved into another mountain, which is a project which will take over 30-40 years to complete. Further, there are many museums and a few reservations (which we did not visit either) and the Badlands made a point of mentioning the Massacre of Wounded Knee, which was the last of the great battles between the US Army and the Lakota Sioux, who were the primary tribe in the Dakota territory.
As you get out on the open road of I-90, with no cars in sight as far as the eye can see, driving 85mph (no faster since we’re in an SUV), you really start to get an appreciation for just how big this country really is. We also look out over the horizon into a beautiful sunset with no buildings blocking our view, look to either side and see prairies as far as we can look, with a few cattle dispersed throughout, but what really makes an impression is the ferocity of the wind. You see it whipping the occasional tree on the prairie, the grass bending, and feel its impact on the car as you drive along. Make a stop for gas or the bathroom and you have trouble opening the car door against it. And this is October.
The Prairie House Museum showed how a settler in the 1880’s lived here and it makes you wonder how it was done. This is Little House on the Prairie country as we are reminded so often, more in Iowa and Minnesota, but you see the attempts to make money off the Ingalls’ name.
Early Sunday morning, we headed into Wyoming, thinking that it would be more of the same, but as we have learned time and time again in this beautiful country, there is no ‘more of the same.’ Every state, town and area has something unique about it.
Dave Gottesman, who has traveled across the US over 10 times, told us that Wyoming was the most beautiful state he had seen and now we are beginning to understand why.
It’s got everything. Outstretched prairies, hills covered with trees, high snow-capped mountains (the Big Horn), barren ranges almost desert-like in their appearance (the Big Horn basin between the Big Horn Mountains and the Rockies), and many other fascinating red (plus other colors) rock geological formations (we visited Devil’s Tower which was the first national monument in the US. We’re on our way to Yellowstone, which was the first national park in the US. Kudos to the US Forest Service, they do a great job of managing the National Parks.) Who knew that there was so much in Wyoming?
But I’ll tell you something…there is A LOT of land out here. There were more than a few times when we were literally the only car on the road and that lasted for more than a few minutes.
But it’s really the sky in Wyoming that does it. You can see for miles in any direction, there is not a cloud to be seen (at least today-again good
weather) and the panoramas are splendid. We see a bit more rugged terrain on either side, not so much the grass prairies of South Dakota, but more of those little bushes (sagebrush?) and rolling hills, some quite barren, with the occasional cattle, horses or even buffalo, and best of all, a cowboy on horseback! That is the Wyoming license plate, after all.
The country is definitely getting a bit tougher, as are the cops, as it was in Sundance, Wyoming (home of the Sundance Kid), where I got my first traffic ticket of the trip. No, it wasn’t for speeding! It was about 9am on a Sunday morning in a town of 1200 people and I didn’t see a stop sign.
Expensive ($60) it was, but the policeman was very kind. So kind in fact that when we went back to look for the sign and we couldn’t find it, we tracked him down (not hard to do) he drove us over to it. Then, I asked him if he would pose for a picture with me and my ticket underneath the stop sign ----as a souvenir. Saying that this picture was by far “the craziest thing he’d ever seen,” he agreed, which led us into a long conversation about the history of the Wyoming country, the people who live there today, and his own aspirations. It was an expensive tour guide, but hey, 2100 miles and only one ticket! Not bad, if I do say so myself.
We’re done with Part 1 of Undaunted Courage, we had our first big fight of the trip, and we’re on our way to Yellowstone National Park (hoping it doesn ’t snow)…on the road again.
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