Miles traveled today: 434.5
Total miles traveled: 1380.4
A Parting Shot or Two
Pulling out of Billings this morning at 7:30, it occurred to me that I might have been a little harsh on the town. Perhaps the outskirts would prove to be a little more, umm…Montana-like. So as I drove past on the interstate, I snapped another photo of Billings. (Click to enlarge).
And then another.
Ahh…that’s more like it! Never let it be said that I don’t try my best to give a place the benefit of the doubt. This makes Billings look quite charming. Montana town, you have redeemed yourself!
133 Miles of Absolutely Nothing
Once I left Billings in the dust, the great plains opened up before my eyes. There was a moment when I crested a hill and saw, spread out before me, as far as the eye could see – from one end of the horizon to the other – absolutely nothing. Pure, uninhabited countryside, an uninterrupted rolling golden prairie, and I thought, this is why Montana’s nickname is “Big Sky Country.” Because truly, the sky did seem a whole lot bigger in that moment than I’d ever seen it before. Conversely, I felt very tiny.
After a short while, Maggie (my GPS unit, whom I’ll be referring to by name for the rest of the trip, as she’s my only traveling companion – she does talk to me, after all) had me turn off Interstate 90 E and head onto Montana US 212. I didn’t question this – I’ve learned that Maggie is wise in these matters – but after awhile, I kinda did question it. US 212 turned out to be a two-lane highway that took me through the middle of nowhere. And I mean, nowhere. I hardly saw another car the entire two hours it took to traverse, just a few random Native American outposts. Modern, of course. Tract houses – no teepees. And, as per usual, miles and miles of beautiful countryside. Hills, rock formations, trees, and a blanket of purple and yellow wildflowers seemingly everywhere. At one point I stopped the car to stretch my legs and take photos (from the middle of the road, no less). A gentle breeze stirred, the sun beat down upon my skin – warm but refreshing – and I could hear cicadas buzzing and birds chirping. I felt completely at peace in that moment. There was absolutely no thought of my joblessness or money woes or other issues that plague me back home. I was tempted to leave the car on the side of the road and wander off into the great, desolate unknown, Into The Wild style. I get the appeal now. I do. It was a gorgeous morning without a cloud in the sky.
That, it turns out, would not last.
Great Faces, Great Places
After several hours of nothingness, I crossed the Wyoming border, and was greeted with – more of the same nothingness. I could barely reflect on this, however, because I was suddenly in South Dakota. Seriously, my trip “across” Wyoming took a little more than twenty minutes. If I’d have blinked, I’d have missed it.
The Black Hills loomed on the distant horizon, growing larger by the minute. I pulled to a stop at the sign announcing South Dakota, and I swear, I got goosebumps. Twenty-five years ago, I left this state, and vowed always to return. When I actually crossed the state line, it was an emotional moment for me. I’ve talked about returning to Dayton, my favorite childhood place, but South Dakota is where I spent my most formative years: 1983-1986. All but my senior year of high school. I learned to drive there. Dated my first girlfriend. Went through adolescence. South Dakota holds many warm memories for me; I enjoyed my years living here, despite the often harsh weather. Fittingly, my 80s mix CD was playing as I entered the state.
I passed through Belle Fourche and stopped to grab lunch at Taco John’s. TJ’s was a “hangout” for me in high school. I know they’re a chain, but we don’t have them in the Pacific Northwest. The tacos remain good – not great – but the Potato Ole’s? Yum. They’re just round tater tots with a nacho cheese dipping sauce. They are every bit as good as I remember. After lunch in my car, I traveled through Spearfish and Sturgis, and was then suddenly on the outskirts of Rapid City, my old stomping grounds. Again, another goosebump moment for me…and suddenly, there it was, laid out before me. Over and over in my head, I kept thinking, I can’t believe I’m back here. You have to understand, I’ve been wanting to come back for many years. I’d even planned a trip with the kids in 2008, but that fell through. It felt surreal to be back. I found my motel, a Super 8 on one of the main drags, and even though check-in was an hour away, I convinced them to let me in early. I had places to go and didn’t want to haul my valuables around.
After a few minutes of debate, I settled on the Crazy Horse Memorial, Korczak Ziolkowski‘s monument to the fallen Sioux leader. He started work on this momentous carving (it will dwarf Mount Rushmore when completed) in 1948, died in 1982, and his family continues work to this day. They still have a long way to go – it won’t be completed in my lifetime, that’s for sure – but it has changed a lot since I last visited in 1986. I spent a good two hours in the museum and gift shop, and watched a traditional Sioux dance on the veranda beneath the gathering clouds.
Be Careful What You Wish For
About those clouds…when I checked in, I learned a severe thunderstorm watch had been issued for the area. Ominous looking dark thunderheads built up over the Black Hills and blotted out the sun. Driving back toward Rapid City, the sky turned black and eerie, and though sunset was a couple of hours away still, it grew as dark as night. Fantastic, jagged streaks of lightning sliced through the sky, and it started raining just as I pulled into the motel parking lot, accompanied by deafening claps of thunder. Man oh man, I was loving it! And then, suddenly, I was a little frightened by it all. The rain came down in sideways buckets, winds gusted to almost 70 mph and it began hailing. Not just little hail like at home, no sirree…golf-ball sized hail up to 4″ in diameter. I was a little intimidated by it all, as I haven’t experienced a thunderstorm like that since…well, since I left here! It turned out to be quite the storm. There were downed trees and power lines, flooded roads, and a huge section of downtown lost power…literally, my Super 8 was the first business in blocks with electricity. Whew!
After the storm quieted down, I headed out to dinner. When we lived here in the 80s, we used to frequent a Chinese restaurant downtown called Great Wall. I looked it up online, and surprisingly, it was still there, in the same spot as always. I picked up an orange chicken combo dinner and brought it back to my room, driving down storm-ravaged streets through a steady rain and continuous lightning and thunder. The food was very good…and there was an awful lot of it. Too much for me to finish. But it was another happy memory relived.
I’m in Rapid City for two nights, so I don’t have to travel tomorrow. I can also sleep in a little longer – I’ve only managed about 10 hours total the past two nights, but hey – I’ll sleep when I get home, ya know? This is all about having fun, and tomorrow, that’s the plan. I’ll be hitting Mount Rushmore, Deadwood, and checking out some places around Rapid City and Ellsworth AFB, where I lived.