I got no end-game
Edit: Now with fewer typos and a corrected Mt Rushmore picture!
I'm the worst at unpacking. I think it's because I love to travel, and to unpack means the end of a trip. When that trip lasted four years, then the dislike of unpacking is compounded by the amount of stuff to unpack.
So yeah, I've been at my mom's house for a couple of weeks now, and I've finally unpacked my SD card reader. You know what that means, don't you?
Dave's Road Trip Photo Round-Up!
Day 1 (or I guess Day 1.5 because I left at 10pm the night before)
Fig. 1: I've heard that Sean P. Puffy Puff Daddy Diddy Combs is also concerned by a weak chin
Fig. 2: There, that's better. Or is it?
I thought I could leave Saskatoon at 10pm and make it across the border and be snug in a motelroom bed by 1am. Well, I misread the map -- ends up Regina is considerably more than 40km from the border. I finally crossed the border at 2:30am, and then made it to the hoppin' hamlet of Plentywood, Montana, about 20 minutes thereafter. The only motel in town was the Sherwood Forest Inn. It had a Robin Hood theme, or at least the outside did; I spent ten minutes ringing the bell for the night manager to no effect, so I slept in the cab of my U-Haul truck. That sucked. I woke up at 5:30am and kept driving. That photo up there, the one labeled Fig. 2? That's me on 3 hours' sleep.
Montana is lovely at a distance -- the horizon is always fantastic -- but when you're driving for hours with only Christian radio to amuse you, it gets a little old. By the way, the best Christian radio show I've ever heard is a Christian financial advice show. Apparently, if you've got mortgages on two houses and are unable to sell either one, you should pray for God to bring the right buyer to you.
10 hours later
Fig. 3: Land shark! Giant land shark!
I could have taken a direct course from Saskatoon to Ashland, but I doubted I would ever again live as close to Devil's Tower in Wyoming, so clearly, despite it being at least 300 miles out of my way, I had to extend my road trip. I had no idea what to expect from Devil's Tower, but holy cow was it awesome-looking from afar. Maybe the photo above doesn't do it justice.
Fig. 4: Native Americans call it The Bear's Tipi
It's really big, but also surprisingly small. I think it's because you can watch rock climbers ascend it.
Fig. 5: It took those guys forever to make any progress
Photos don't really do it justice. Or my photos don't anyway. I think it's because I'm a camera spaz.
Fig. 6: I meant to point the camera in the other direction.
They ask that climbers not climb during June (or July? I forget) so that local Native Americans can have their sacred spot to themselves for a little while; they consider climbing to be a desecration at any time, but I guess they had to settle for allowing eleven months of climbing instead of zero. There are signs indicating that the Park Service does not have rescue squads on hand; get stuck on the Tower, and you have to rely on other climbers to help you. Some years ago, a guy parachuted onto the Tower to prove he could, and then had to wait four hours for climbers to get to him and bring him down.
After Devil's Tower, I made it to Rapid City, South Dakota. My main criterion for a motel was whether it had wi-fi. Or wifi. I'm not clear on what the kids are calling it now. I declined a room at the Hampton Inn because when I arrived the manager was on the phone with tech support due to wifi problems. Having called tech support in my own life, as well as working on my own and my friends' computers, I knew that I should hit the Days Inn instead.
Day 2 (or I guess Day 2.5 because I left at 10pm two nights earlier)
Mount Rushmore is 30 miles from Rapid City, so the next morning I asked the Days Inn manager if it was worth it. She said it was. And it was.
Fig. 7: If only there were room for one more on the mountain ...
I got all weirdly patriotic there. It's really a cool monument. The original design included the guys' torsos and arms and it was kinda cheesy and lame, so perhaps it was for the best that their funding was cut and the project ended.
Fig. 8: I think the altitude was getting to me
Fig. 9: Me and a goat
Fig. 10: If you'd seen North by Nothwest, you'd be all "This is where they filmed a scene from North by Northwest!" I was.
Here, this one's OK:
Fig. 11: Crop to your heart's desire!
Back on the road. I was really pleased with Rapid City's classic rock station, and speaking of rock ...
Fig. 12: Box Elder!
It's a song by Pavement, though I'm more familiar with the cover version by Holly Golightly. Hey, I looked up the lyrics, and guess what ...
Wasn't the question you asked me
It wasn't the answer I gave
That made me feel like I was on a train
Was a distant voice
Made me make a choice
That I had to get the fuck out of this town
I got a lot of things to do
A lot of places to go
I've got a lot of good things coming my way
And I'm afraid to say that you're not one of them.
Last time I was there
You were out on the couch
Pressed into a little electric 2
It was the way that you smiled
Made me know at once
That I had to get the fuck out of this town
'Cause I've decide to make a stand
And I'm not gonna take your hand
I'm taking the next bus outta here, I'm gonna head for Box Elder, M.O.
In addition to being a camera spaz, I'm also a lyrics spaz; I didn't know that those were the lyrics in the last line. I thought that the singer "had to get the fuck out of" Box Elder, and not make Box Elder his/her destination. I didn't know there are multiple Box Elders. The hell kinda name is "Box Elder" anyway? It sort of makes sense that the Box Elder in South Dakota is not the Box Elder of the song; I have difficulty believing there's a worse town than Box Elder, SD.
A late start + Mount Rushmore + loading up on supplies + a long, boring state = I had to spend another night in South Dakota. I forget the name of the town, but the motel had the fastest wifi speed I'd ever experienced.
Days 3 to 5
I didn't take any pictures. Driving through Minnesota sucked. Driving through Wisconsin I was tempted to go to a "gentlemen's club", but missed the exit. Driving through Chicago was a pain in the ass. The hotel in Indiana was a dive and the area reminded me of New Jersey, though I'm not sure if there's causation there. Driving through Pennsylvania I listened to A Prairie Home Companion for the first time; it was pretty good. The hotel outside Jamestown, NY, was hosting a family reunion and some sort of junior high girls' basketball tournament; the hotel didn't have wifi, which sucked; and there were no restaurants in the area, so I ate oatmeal cookies out of the vending machine. Driving across Upstate NY sucked.
