Driving to the Black Hills

In a motel in the Bad lands/Black Hills now of North West South Dakota-- The casino town of Deadwood. It's pouring rain out, otherwise we would have camped. We drove through Sioux indian lands all of today, down Hwy 63 north toward South Dakota. Cattle, ranches and plains, wild horses, and towns with names like Little Eagle, Iron Lightening, Faith. sometimes completely flat, then suddenly the road pitching up and down. Roaming the fields, buffalo, antelope. Pheasant with bright red crested heads pecking in the shoulder-- and road runners running across the road just like in the cartoon. Narrowly missed a few. The only car for miles and they choose that moment to dart across. Not too savy, like their famous namesake.

Further down hwy 65 towards the border, the Buttes rose straight up from the flat grassy plains, revealing colorful generations of black, pink and red strata. Descending the high points on the highway the road stretching down and receding in a long thin triangle, a winding snake disapearing over the edge.

Endless visibility.

No idea what to expect here-- where we're going to end up at night (we economized on the maps and serious guidebooks). Joint intuition is the guiding force.

Open space and a sense of infinite possibilities. In my head, the inflight movie for the drive, thinking of how to buy a simple cabin, live a simple life-- what to make, where to live. Perhaps one of these ranchers needs a resident artist to lend a helping hand? should stop and ask them.

North Dakota Wildlife

Stopping for a shower and tick check at the North Country Inn off Hwy 6 in Mandan North Dakota. The night before camping at Pilsbury State Park, Rock Lake Campround, Melissa picked up her hitchhiker. I pulled at it off today. Fierce little thing, biting in deeper the harder I pulled. Left a nasty mark. We had hoped to make it further but with night falling and no clue where to go, Melissa stopped at another Indian owned motel to ask owner if there was anything up ahead. He replied emphatically "No-- I will not let you go-- There is nothing,, not even gas!". He implored us to stay offering clean room, with free wifi, cable tv, coffee maker, and a hair dryer in the room. Hard to pass that up. He even added a discount to already low low price. A Motel splurge was inevitable.

Next morning enjoyed a nice breakfast -- mountain of browns and bottomless coffee at the North Dokata Inn while listening on a group of farmers play roll the dice next to us. Dice gets passed and rolled. I don't know how you win, not a lot of reaction to each roll, good or bad. Sems the point is just kill some North Dak0ta ime. Across the way, a nice view of the farm equipment. splashes of primary color and vast brown skies.

Motel Patal

Got on the road and traveled I35 Wisconsin winding through the Mississippi. Green rolling hills. Van Morrison set the tone for driving alongside the wide deep Mississippi. All kinds of birds shooting over and around landing in a spray on the marshes that flanked. Half way out it rained hard. Eliminated any possibility of camping. We drove through the city of Minneapolis. A Long and low place with countless little lakes and equal number of little colleges. Convoluted streets, with no discernable grid and single massive body of water to navigate by. Hard rain turned to drizzle turned to gray skies, yet warmish temperature somehow. I carried two or three maps. Rotating each to see if either could get us some where close to the AAA single diamond motel. The things we do for a discount. Melissa asking questions. Me navigating. Hungry and getting on each other’s nerves (just once or twice), many wrong turns later we found the Lakeland Motel with it’s well deserved single red diamond rating (the absolute lowest of the low). It appeared to be the cheapest in all of Minneapolis. The girl/woman that ran the desk greeted us with an empty stare and not so much as a hello. When I asked a question, her head would nod imperceptibly but she would say nothing for a few minutes. Each question required she size us up before offering an answer. At first there were no cheap rooms with the no smoking option. The AAA discount also seemed subjective. I asked to see the rooms she did offer. She looked at me for a while. Again I asked to see all the rooms she had available. Finally she handed me a single key— and with it direct emotionless eye contact. But I saw a glint of resignation. I had won. We walked to our room. A basement with green carpet. Tiny. Single/non smoking. The cheapest of the cheap.

The Lakeland Inn, Minneapolis

drip drip

The Hotel Trempealeau, Wisconsin