May 21 - A Mostly Boring Day

The one drag about the Washington Inn was that it didn't include breakfast. I did get a couple discount coupons for nearby restaurants, though. The one next door wasn't open for some reason, but another across the street advertised a buffet. Perfect, I thought.

Trouble is, in the off-season, they don't have enough traffic to support a good buffet. They only had two bread products, and both were stale. Normally I make sure to eat all I take, but normally the offerings are edible. Their idea of a corn muffin was much more like a rock. Their bacon was decent, but the eggs had a processed taste. On top of all this, juice cost extra, so the total was almost $10. I pocketed a small box of Mini-Wheats to get a bit more value for my money.

Before pulling out, I used the hotel's internet again, from the car. I finally managed to activate my SiriusXM account! I thought I had before leaving Maryland, but then it didn't work. Then I had trouble with the logistics. You have to have the radio powered up (i.e., keys in the ignition) while you're online. It's a bit tricky.

Since I was in the area, and had time, I decided to check out Jewel Cave National Park. This meant backtracking a bit, but that turned out to be a good thing. I found a spot on the road past Mt. Rushmore where you can pull off and look at George Washington's profile. That was an unexpected bonus.

Another unexpected bonus was that the route to the cave went through Custer again, and this time the Pie Place was open! (Yes, I'm obsessive about pastry.) I popped in and got a slice of blueberry for later.

Once again, my Parks pass was useless. Entering is free, but the cave tours cost money. Sigh. This time I wasn't as lucky, and had to wait most of an hour for the next tour. So I shuffled around the visitor's center, which had some interesting exhibits. 

They have samples of some of the formations found in Jewel Cave, some of which don't appear in the areas accessible to tours. I also looked over the guest book, and found an odd notation. A family that had come in shortly before me mentioned that they couldn't get on a tour, and were "very disappointed". Did they not know that there were multiple tours every day? Or did they object to waiting less than an hour? Very strange.

The tour was quite interesting, and there were quite a few large rooms to view. The passageways were also more generously sized, and the stairs were nice and even. Jewel Cave also has boxwork formations and like Wind Cave, hasn't been fully explored. The two are less than 40 miles apart, and are both estimated to be extremely long. I wouldn't be surprised at all if someday they are found to be connected.

After leaving Jewel Cave, I needed to get back onto I-90 and head further west. Looking at the map, I saw that I could take US 16 west to reach it, instead of backtracking through Rapid City. It meant missing Bear Country USA, but seemed like a better option.

I was mistaken. With the single excepting of an abandoned tourist trap, this section of Wyoming turned out to be extremely boring. The landscape is monotonous scrubland, interrupted only by identical herds of cattle. Even when you're driving at 70 or 75 MPH, it feels as if you're hardly moving. It's like one of those bad dreams where you're running down a hallway that keeps getting longer and longer for no good reason. Combine this with my general dislike of sitting still, and it's a recipe for extreme crabbiness.

It was at this point that I screwed up, and missed my chance to see Devil's Tower. To get there, I should have gone past the ramp for I-90, and stayed on US Highway 16. But I was desperate to escape the tedium, and jumped onto the interstate. By the time I realized my error, backtracking would have added something like 120 miles to the day's drive. So I kept going.

Turns out, Wyoming isn't big on rest areas, or providing tourist information. I never did find any. At one point, I saw signs for such, but they petered out at a gas station parking lot. Possibly, it was inside the station, but I was too annoyed to risk wasting time to check. So I kept going.

Eventually, I reached Sheridan, my destination for the evening. All I could see after exiting the interstate was suburban sprawl and traffic. I think I found the tourist area that's supposed to be Old Town or some such, but it didn't look much different. I didn't see any motels that looked appealing, or any place to pull off and check the AAA book. I have no interest in cowboy mythology anyway. I floated through town on the currents of traffic, and after awhile was back to I-90. So I kept going.

About this time, my gas tank was running a bit low, by western standards. The thing is, a quarter tank back East is quite sufficient to get you to a dozen gas stations. In parts of the West, they are few and far between. My first attempt was in a nameless bit of nowhere, where I got off the interstate after seeing a sign for a non-chain gas station. It turned out to have a couple of decrepit looking pumps at the far end of a vast field of cratered asphalt. I feared for both the car's undercarriage and the cleanliness of my fuel line. So I kept going.

After awhile, I spotted a Conoco station connected to the Custer Battlefield Museum in Garryowen. By this time of day, the museum would be closed, but surely a large chain would provide pay-at-the-pump service after hours. Wrong! "Card reader not available. See Attendant." Trouble was, the place was deserted. At least there was no one to complain about me using their spot-a-pot without purchase. So I kept going.

Outside Hardin, Montana, I see an Exxon, with other customers and its interior lights blazing. The first pump I approach has no nozzle, though the hose is tied into an appealing wreath shape. At this point, I would say that I circling around several times, but dodging the enormous ruts and potholes didn't allow for such a tidy shape. While tracing out a double helix, I mostly find hand-lettered signs reading "Not in service" or "Sorry out". The few operating pumps have only Premium. Eventually, another customer vacates a Regular pump, and pothole-dodges their way home. My paranoia has kicked in by now, and I don't feel comfortable using a payment card. I hand a twenty to the cashier, and ask for a receipt. Good thing I didn't try to fill up. The pump doesn't look ancient, but works extremely slowly. It took about 10 minutes to pump 8 gallons. Filling the tank would've taken an hour.

Having found a potty and filled my tank, I was able to return my thoughts to the evening's lodgings. Surely a city the size of Billings will have a good selection of motels, I thought. Once again, I was mistaken. At any rate, there are few visible from the interstate. The first one I pulled into, a Holiday Inn Express wanted $129. So I kept going.

I saw a billboard for a Best Western, and thought "They're usually reasonable". Once again, I was mistaken. After following multiple signs over several miles, I found myself downtown. Only when you reach the place does their sign inform you that it's a Best Western "Plus". Uh-oh. Sure enough, they wanted $159. So I kept going.

Driving through the city – which isn't easy, thanks to the number of one-way streets – I spotted several signs for motels. Each time, when I got closer, I saw weekly and monthly rates offered. That's never a good sign. Sure enough each one looked pretty seedy, and the area looked too creepy to leave my car unattended. The one possibly exception was one that I passed on the way to the Best Western, but could never find my way back to on the weird grid of one way streets.

Trying to find my way back to I-90, I saw a couple of motels that looked decent, but both were booked. It seems that Billings doesn't have much selection of mid-priced hotels. Odds are, you'll either pay through the nose, or risk finding a bag of severed heads under your bed. So I kept going.

At this point, I was becoming rather concerned. Billings was the last major city for miles. Back East, you find motels frequently  along major interstates, especially where they meet other major roads. That's not the case out here, however. I was already tired, it was almost 10 PM, and the nearest tourist area was a hundred miles away. Also, I hadn't eaten dinner.

At the same time, I wondered where all the truck drivers go. I know they don't spend $129 a night, and the seedy-looking places were too small to park a semi.

Then I spotted a sign for Laurel, Montana. It's less than 10 miles outside of Billings. Mercifully, it had several mid-range hotels. I ended up at the Locomotive Inn, which was located next to a huge refinery. Turns out, Laurel has been a railroad and driving hub for more than a century. It seems to be the place where many tired travelers have found refuge. So I became one of them.

I didn't even try to find an open restaurant, but just ate a cheese sandwich & munchies from my provisions. Once again, no one gave me crap about using the pool/spa after closing time. Afterward, I found a funny episode of American Dad on TV. And I had my pie for dessert. (Surprisingly, PBR pairs well with blueberry pie.) So it turned out to be a decent night after all.

Wild, wild life

I pull out of the Rocket Motel after a breakfast of yogurt and graham crackers, and head for Mount Rushmore. You just can't be in the Black Hills and not go there. Along the way, I notice that the Purple Pie Place was right down the street from the motel, and I could've easily walked there the previous evening. Alas, they don't do breakfast, so aren't open yet.

When I get to Mount Rushmore, I discover that my Parks pass isn't useful. The memorial itself is free. Parking is run by a concessionaire, and the pass doesn't apply. The parking permit is good for a full year, though.

Turns out, I missed a rather cool opportunity. Looking at the park hours, I realize that I could've gone there the previous night after the Crazy Horse Monument, and seen Mount Rushmore lit up for the evening.

The carvings are indeed very impressive. There's also a small interpretive museum, which is not to be missed. Much of it is dedicated to the "making-of" story. They have quite a few videos of the construction process, and interviews with the workmen. My favorite highlighted the "bosun chair", which was a harness they used to hang down in front of the rock. It amounted to basically a swing with a belt to keep you from falling off. Often they rode this contraption to use a jackhammer, or to lay charges of black powder explosive. It must have taken a LOT of nerve to pull that off.

The trail that goes behind the carvings isn't open for the season yet, but another one goes much closer to the carvings, and along the way, you see lots of beautiful Black Hills scenery. It also takes you to Gutzon Borglum's studio, which has some quite interesting scale models. Some depict the presidents from head to waist, as was the original plan.

Interesting historical tidbit: The Mount Rushmore monument was not dedicated until 1991, although work stopped fifty years previously. The end of the project was rather anticlimactic, due to the death of  Gutzon Borglum and the approach of World War II. They just sort of stopped working and went home.

Lunch consists of a ham sandwich that I make from my cooler & food box provisions. I eat in the car, watching my fellow tourists go by. It's a simple meal, but I enjoy it thoroughly.

Next, I head for Wind Cave. I arrive just in time to catch the next tour. We start by looking at the historic cave entrance, a hole no bigger than 2 feet in diameter. According to the National Park Service, the discoverers were two brothers who rode past this hole, and heard the wind moving through it. When one looked into the hole, his hat was blown off.

This cave isn't very well lit in places, and has rock outcroppings at head level. The stairs are uneven, and seem to have been designed by and for people with very small feet. Our guide tells us about their Adventure Tour, where you go into the unimproved parts of the cave, squeezing through openings as small as the historic entrance. The basic tour is about all I can handle, thanks just the same.

In fact, just being underground is quite adventurous enough for me. Despite my claustro tendencies, I love going into show caves. They're one of the classic tourist attractions, and I have a weakness or the classics. I enjoy myself, despite a conviction that every cave I enter is about to collapse on me. I just have to remind myself to breathe once in awhile.

In between some very deliberate deep breaths, I look over the extensive boxwork that Wind Cave is famous for. These formations are calcite that remained when the surrounding limestone was eaten away by acidic water. It's estimated that 95% of the world's boxwork is in this cave.

Our guide tells the story of how the cave went from being a privately held attraction to a National Park. Two parties were engaged in a legal battle for ownership, and went to court. The judge ruled that neither one had a legitimate claim. Both held homesteader claims to the property, but neither had made the improvements required to hold their claims. Hence, both were declared void, and the United States owned the property. I rather enjoyed hearing that greed benefited the public on at least one occasion

In addition to the cave, the National Park has more than 33,000 acres of rolling hillsides and mixed-grass prairie, and an abundance of wildlife. They also have one of the best campgrounds in the Black Hills. However, I'm unable to use it, and not because of the weather this time. It's closed at the time of my visit, due to the sequestration budget cuts. Thanks a lot, Congress.

In my wanderings, I come across a very odd road situation. In three places, construction has reduced the road to a single lane. There's no flagman, though, and not even one of those automated signals. Whoever gets there first has right of way. Presumably you take turns if there's more than one vehicle in each direction. Traffic is light enough that this actually works. If you tried that back east, drivers would be eating each other.

Moving along, I've also been told that Custer State Park is not to be missed. So along my travels, I pop into their Visitor's Center. The guide there tells me that the Wildlife Loop is one of their highlights, and includes feral burros. This sounds rather unique, so I add it to my list.

She also mentions a section of US Highway 16A called Iron Mountain Road. It was designed specifically to showcase the Black Hills scenery, and the Mount Rushmore memorial. Since it's a winding mountain road with lots of curves, one-way tunnels, and corkscrew bridges, driving it is considered a bit of an adventure. I don't want to rain on her parade, so I just make noncommittal enthusiastic noises. The fact is, mountain driving frightens me. I'm prone to vertigo in certain circumstances, so I'm always afraid I'll get dizzy and drive off of a cliff. Mentally, I make a note to avoid this like I would a skull fracture.

The Wildlife Loop lives up to its name admirably. I spot a coyote almost immediately, and soon lose count of the pronghorn, elk, and bison. 

One large herd of bison includes at least 12 calves, which are adorable. They're fuzzy, and have big noses. There's also a large prairie dog town right next to the road. It's fun to watch, but I don't get to feed them peanuts here.

One thing is missing, however. I reach the end of the Loop without spotting the feral burros. I debate going around again. It's getting late, though, and I have no accommodation for the night. So I follow the road sign toward Keystone, the closest town.

Before very long, I notice that the road is taking a lot of sharp curves and steep inclines. Turns out, THIS section of 16A is the one I'd intended to avoid. By the time I realize it, there's not much point turning back.

For awhile, I get stuck behind some poky fool from Illinois. Seriously, this guy was driving well under the speed limit for miles, passing one turnout after another. I even resorted to flashing my high beams, something I almost never do. Eventually, he catches on, and pulls off.

The road makes me nervous but I end up enjoying myself. There are several one-lane tunnels that were deliberately placed to frame the Mount Rushmore monument in the distance. I have no photos from the drive, since I was maintaining a constant white-knuckle death grip on the steering wheel.

There's a famous overlook that I passed by, partly because it was starting to get dark. But it was mostly because I was afraid that poky idiot would catch up to me.

When I arrive in Keystone, I'm relived to find quite a few Vacancy signs. I want something in walking distance of restaurants, since I'm tired of driving. The first two I try are a bit expensive, in light of the fact that neither has a pool or spa open for the season yet. Then I spot one with a pool and a spa advertising a $49.95 rate. When I ask the desk clerk, she tells me that it's only for a single person staying one night. In a resort town, that pretty much never happens. But what do you know, a bait and switch has worked in my favor! The clerk seems rather pleased at the novelty of writing up the special rate.

Amusingly, their sign also dares guests to tell the difference between their rooms and the Ritz-Carlton's. I found a few, but they were favorable in my opinion. They have normal-sized pillows, for a start, instead of those annoying trendy square ones. And I didn’t have to dig through 49 decorative pillows and shams and runners to find the damn bed..

By the time I settle in, most of the restaurants have closed, except an expensive looking one (sound familiar?). Apart from that, there's just a boardwalk canteen open. They're about to close up, but the woman behind the counter made me a hot dog. I found that very hospitable.

After eating this very tasty hot dog, I head to the pool. It's very pleasant, and I find someone to talk to. Sharing the hot tub with me is a very nice Polish family from Chicago. The hotel staff is nice enough to not enforce the pool closing time (we weren't bothering anyone, after all), so we trade travel stories for an hour or so. They are also headed for Yellowstone, as it turns out.

Tourism Time II

Breakfast this morning was a yogurt and the cinnamon roll that I pocketed at the Super 8. Here's another things I like about small, family owned motels: they don't chase you out at check-out time. And most use metal keys, not the ones programmed to lock you out at that exact second. Usually by the time I eat, work on this blog, and pack the car, it's past the deadline.

Since Wall Drug was closed last night, I stroll through before hitting the road. Ted and Dorothy Hustead purchased the Wall Drug Store in 1931. Wall had a population of 231 people, most of whom were Depression-era poor. The store's prospects looked grim until Dorothy was inspired to offer free ice water to travelers driving along Route 16A. Of course, that wouldn't stop many people today. Keep in mind no one had car AC in those days, and there weren't mini-marts selling soft drinks and Slurpees every few miles. From the first day they put up signs, they were surrounded by customers. Today, they original drug store is a museum, and the property has expanded to include Western art, souvenirs (many, many souvenirs), an ice cream shop, and a chapel. I'm not religious, but I still thought that was nice. It our mercenary world, not many people would devote significant square footage to spiritual needs. The place is also a low-grade cowboy theme park, with animatronic displays, and things like this:

Next, I headed back to the Badlands, to view the areas I didn't get a close look at yesterday. I ended up spending more time there than I'd had in mind. It was so very impressive. The endless variety of shapes and colors are quite fascinating. There's another area I couldn't see, since you access it on a gravel road "passable only in dry weather". They also have several trails I didn't have time for, so I'll have to go back someday.

The next few hours were devoted to driving. It rained most of that time, often rather heavily. The scenery was pleasant, though, full of tidy farms and ranches. It was nice just to be off the Interstate for awhile.

Outside Rapid City, I made a stop at Reptile Gardens. It started as a roadside attraction in 1937, founded by a young reptile enthusiast named Earl Brockelsby. He presented as a one-man-show to travelers headed to Mount Rushmore. It capitalized on peoples' ingrained fascination with (and often fear of) snakes and other reptiles. Today, the site is a zoo that houses the most species of reptiles of any zoo in the world, and is dedicated to education and conservation.

 

This little tortoise is full-grown, but could fit in the palm of your hand. How cute is that?

Upon arrival, I was told that a "snake show" would begin in about 30 minutes. I had no idea what this was, but something that sounded so odd was not to be missed. I spent that half-hour checking out their exhibits, which also included amphibians and noisily squawking birds. The snake show turned out to be quite interesting and funny. The handler, named Terry, removed several snakes from their boxes, so we could see them being active. At one point he pretended to throw one into the audience, generating as many shrieks as laughs.

After this break, I got back on the road and headed for the Rocket Motel in Custer City. In a clever marketing effort, they present themselves as a classic vintage motor hotel. This scares off people who'd complain that they're "outdated", and attracts people like me who get a kick out of it. The property is very clean and well maintained, and the service was friendly and helpful.

After checkig in, I had just enough time before dark to see the Crazy Horse Memorial. The project is the Lakota Sioux nation's answer to Mount Rushmore. It was started by Henry Standing Bear, who stated that "My fellow chiefs and I would like the white man to know that the red man has great heroes, too." After being rebuffed by Mount Rushmore sculptor Gutzon Borglum (who, in all fairness, had his hands full), he turned to Korczak Ziolkowski, who'd won first prize in sculpture at the 1939 World's Fair.

Ziolkowski accepted, and dedicated the rest of his life to the project. After his death in 1982, it was run by his wife Ruth Ross, and most of their 10 children.

There is no projected completion date for the sculpture. The vagaries of weather, geology and financing (the project refuses federal grants, and is funded entirely by private donations) don't allow for such specificity. The acts of creation and building community involvement are considered worthwhile in and of themselves. In our goal-oriented society, I find this rather refreshing.

Besides, the Memorial as a whole will include much more than the sculpture. The Indian Museum of North America showcases art and cultural artifacts donated by hundreds of people from around the world. Eventually, the site will also include a University of South Dakota satellite campus and a medical center.

Back at the Rocket Motel, I settled in to eat the mini-pizza I'd bought a couple doors down. Iwasn't really in the mood for pizza, but most of trhe town had close for the evening. The only open eatery looked expensive, and was too dimly lit to read. Carry-out to the rescue!

Tourism Trifectca

Breakfast, as I expected, was less than impressive. Smaller motels just can't offer the same variety. Lower turnover can also mean freshness issues. The "Cheerios" tasted sort of funny, but were still crunchy. I had to wonder if they weren't some generic version. But it didn't cost extra, so why bitch?

Before hitting the interstate, I made a stop at the local tourist trap – Badlands Petrified Gardens. They have a yardful of South Dakota petrified wood specimens, and displays fossils and minerals from the area. I noticed the wording on the interpretive signs were carefully worded. This region has a large population of fundies, and I'm sure the museum staff has no desire to engage in daily debates. So they signs have phrases like "geologists believe", and two time charts are displayed: biblical and geological.

 The museum was quite interesting, and I had more than $6 worth of fun. So I consider it a bargain, even if I did forget to use my coupon.

As recommended by the nice lady at the Mitchell info booth, I got off of I-90 to take the scenic loop. It wasn't long before I found a wonderful tourist trap, where you feed peanuts to semi-tame prairie dogs. It was incredibly fun. Some would even take the peanuts right from your hand. They were so cute, it was worth a possible exposure to plague. (Seriously.)

I ended up spending quite a bit of time at the Badlands National Park, and didn't burn up a lot of miles. It's an awesome park! The landscape is truly spectacular. I actually find it more impressive than the Grand Canyon. The formations stretch for miles, and are more accessible than the canyon. The road goes right through them, and they have lots of pull-offs and viewpoints. There are quite a few places where you can walk around in them, without killing your knees. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed walking along the Grand Canyon Rim. But I knew that'd be all I could do there, without involving search & rescue dogs & probably a helicopter.

After awhile, I became anxious about the evening's accommodations. Once again, dark clouds gathered, and the radio was full of severe storm warnings. Finding someplace cheap but not disgusting can be a bit of a challenge. Even in the off-season, they can sell out. So I left the park before finishing and headed into Wall. The info booth lady had told me that Wall drug was open till 10, and an evening outing sounded like a nice change of pace.

Turns out, a lot of places were closed for the season (or forever, it's kind of hard to tell). The Best Value wanted most of $60, and I knew I could do better. I was just about to give up, and head out of town, when I spotted the comforting glow of the Welsh Motel sign. They only charge $32, which includes coffee. No fridge, but they have one of those huge old ice machines that could fill a semi.

After awhile, I drove back over to Wall Drug. It was only 8:00, but everything was closed. I guess the 10 PM closing is for the high season. So I bought some PBR from the gas station. Guessing from the other folks in line, it's the thing to do here.

Sleeping indoors turned out to be a good move. The thunder was so loud, I could feel it through the floor.

A Port in a Storm

Breakfast is included at a Super 8, so the day started with a Belgian waffle. While eating, I perused the event listings offered by the Luverne CVB (apparently, there is such a thing). Alas, I wouldn't be in town for the 4-H seminar on "Livestock Quality and Ethics". Most of the events were church suppers. I never knew they were edible.

I decided I wanted to see Blue Mounds State Park, even if I couldn't camp there. Their signature bison herd was off in the distance, but the scenery was quite pretty. I didn't have time for a full hike, but did a sort of survey course. The three major trails paralleled each other, and had connections, so I was able to sample them all. The Mounds Trail gave a view of the bison. The Upper Cliffline Trail gives you a view of the farms adjoining the park, and the Lower Cliffline Trail shows off the pretty pink cliffs. 

At one point, a big red-tailed hawk took off from the cliffs, and soared over my head. After it flew away, I could hear it screeching in the distance.

After finding my way back to I-90 (more of a challenge than expected, but I got a look at the countryside), I headed off toward South Dakota. By the time I reached Mitchell, I was ready for a break. The Corn Palace is free, and has nice clean bathrooms. Basically, it's a smalll arena for concerts etc. It features murals made from different types of corn. It's a classic South Dakota landmark, so you pretty much have to stop.

Then back on the road, the endless road. It's pretty boring through this section. There's not much to look at, and identifying roadkill gets dull after awhile. As I drive, I can't resist looking South frequently, where thunderheads are gathering. And thickening. And darkening. And pulsating with lightening. It's not looking good for camping.

Then the wind picked up alarmingly. Right about then I approached the exit for Kadota, and saw a Rodeway Inn. Then had a single for just under $50, including breakfast. Their buildings looked sturdy, too.

At this point, I wanted to call John, which turned out to be a production. My cell service disappeared outside of Sioux Falls, and I'd neglected to get a calling card. I couldn't make an outgoing call without one. When I asked at the front desk where I could find a pay phone, he let me use theirs. I quickly gave John their number, and asked him to call me back in my room. I'm starting to feel lonely, so I really wanted to connect. And since he doesn't have email access on weekends, I needed to update him on where I was.

Eventually I got hungry, and walked across the road to the Club 27 Steakhouse. Even though the place was full of locals – some were part of a wedding party - and I was by myself, I was never made to feel out of place. I have feeling they'd have let me join the festivities if I'd felt like it. (I was too tired to remember my own name, much less ask anyone else theirs.)

I decided to splurge on a steak, since beef is what's for dinner. It was one of the best I've ever had - very lean and tender, cooked just right. The baked potato was a bit dry, and the "salad bar" had only 5 or 6 offerings, mostly involving mayo and/or iceberg lettuce. Of course, for a place that's kind of a bar off of a highway, that's as close to health food as I expect.

Crossing Most of Minnesota

Today's start was a bit later than planned. I'd taken so much stuff inside over two days, it took awhile to get it all back in the car.

The day ended up being mostly driving. I'd had in mind to make a side trip to the Laura Ingalls Wilder Museum in Walnut Grove, Minnesota. I loved those books as a kind, and even enjoyed rereading them as an adult. But there was one delay after another thanks to roadwork. For miles, the top speed was 40 mph, and there were plenty of stretches that only allowed parade speed. So going 45 miles out of the way just wasn't feasible.

Not long after crossing the border, I noticed changes to the landscape. At first, it looked a lot like Wisconsin, but the terrain was flatter and broader. It changed imperceptibly by degrees, and after awhile looked quite different. I was officially in the prairie.

Before very long, I started seeing wind turbines everywhere. There was even one section where the stretched as far as I could see in every direction, and this went on for miles. I've heard some people consider them eyesores, but I think they're quite cool-looking.

I managed to find a couple diversions along the way, though. The Spam Museum in Austin was close to the Interstate, and was free. Turns out, those humble little cans of meat played a role in WWII. Not only was it eaten by US soldiers, but large quantities were shipped to our allies in the Lend-Lease years. Another tidbit: the employee news magazine was called "The Squeal". Of course, my favorite part of the museum was the Monty Python exhibit.

Lovely spam! Wonderful spam!

 Later, I made a gas stop in Blue Earth. This stop also gave me the chance to eat my sandwich in an interesting spot. This statue is 55 feet tall, weighs 8,000 pounds, and cost $43,000 to manufacture. The money was contributed by local businessmen, who wanted to commemorate the city's connection to the brand. Peas and corn are grown and canned for them in the area.

HO HO HO!

Alas, the Green Giant Museum was closed for the day by the time I arrived. But there's a nice little picnic area at the statue's feet. 

As I drove on, the skies became dark and threatening. Turns out, the forecast of thunderstorms was accurate. Before long, a steady rain was falling. My plan to camp at Blue Mounds State Park didn't sound good anymore. Luckily, there was a Super 8 in Luverne. This time, there was no pool or hot tub, but I was out of the rain. Funny how quickly your priorities can change!

 

A Day in the Dells

This is my second trip to the Dells, so I know exactly what I want to do. After French toast at Mitzi's American Grill – conveniently across the street – I head into town to arrange a ride on the Upper Dells boat tour. I also pop into the market for a prefab sandwich for lunch, and some local beer. Turns out, the New Glarus brewery makes a very tasty India Pale Ale. The sandwich sucks. It's mostly bread, with no condiments and hardly any meat or cheese.at least it helps atone for my recent gluttony of two consecutive restaurant meals..

The boat tour is as fun as I remembered. The trees and rock formations are way cool. Our guide tells us that Chimney Rocks reminds him of either a stack of pancakes or a stack of hambugers, depending on the time of day.

We also get two landings. One includes one of my all-time favorite tourist moments. H.H. Bennett, a local photographer, was the inventor of the instantaneous shutter.  For the first time, movement could be captured on film. He proved this by photographing his son jumping onto Stand Rock. It's one of the iconic images of photography history. Today this shot is re-enacted by dogs.

The motel stay included a pass to one of the area's indoor waterparks, one of the major Things To Do in the area. One the park's website, it seems that most of their water rides involve sliding through enclosed tubes. This is NOT appealing to claustrophobes! Besides, the main point of the layover was to rest a bit. As much as I hate to pass up anything free, I just can't work up any enthusiasm. I decide that the motel pool will be quite sufficient entertainment for my current energy level.

Afterward, I wander around in search of dinner. Lacking inspiration, I grab a prefab sub from the gas station's deli. Later, I eat it on the motel patio, while basking in the warm sunshine and listening to birdsong. Surprisingly, the sub is delicious, and I decide to get another for tomorrow's lunch.

Not the trendiest place for dinner, but the price was right.

After another swim/soak, I head to bed early. This stopover was just what I needed.