Odometer: 68,430
Price of gas: $3.69
Mitchell, SD to Worland, WY
I should point out that Worland, WY, alphabetically is the last town in the last state in the Union. Hah! Very cool.
This morning dawns brilliantly sunny, but cold! I’m surprised at how nippy it is. Ah, the Midwest. Not the mild PNW. It’s also windy. Oh yeah, open plain, nothing to stop it…
The first couple of hours are boring, but it’s okay. There's a lot of roadkill. Every few miles, something on the side of the road... usually small critters, but also big ones - jackalopes, sadly enough. It's gross. Of course, my windshield reflects my bug kills...
Unusually in the book I’m listening to, Ted Sorensen not only wrote the book, but is reading it, which gives a uniquely personal perspective to the writing. You can hear in his voice when he’s anguished, when he’s challenged, when he wanted to do more, but couldn’t… it makes it much more engaging, and that allows me not to focus on time or mileage. He is also a Unitarian, which is wild, and I'm thrilled with his personal morality and how it influenced Kennedy.
I also cross back into the Mountain time zone! Woo-hoo! It’s very different between flying and driving. Flying, it makes sense that when you are somewhere else, the time is different. Not so driving: why is there magically an hour difference between here and there? No idea.
One more thing about South Dakota: the level of billboards is extremely annoying. I think about I-90 in Washington and the mountains to sound greenway - so nice. South Dakota has billboards for Wall Drug for nearly 400 miles. Gross!!!
I reach the Badlands and take the scenic loop. I turn off Ted as I’m stopping frequently, and am surprised at the number of radio stations I’m still picking up. Okay, they’re mostly both kinds – Country and Western – but I pick up an Indian radio station too, and one that’s playing Top 40 hits. Out where I am, this is decidedly surprising. (Someday I’ll describe the stations available on the Olympic Peninsula in Washington…)
Something else I notice: the speed limit is 75 in South Dakota, which I’ve been driving on cruise control (bless cruise control, it’s fabulous). My gas mileage goes down about 30-40 miles on this tank of gas. Hmm, I don’t think so. Thereafter I set my cruise control about 66 or 67… the extra time is kinda irrelevant, I prefer the increased mileage.
The Badlands are fascinating, and are causing all kinds of echoes. Most recently of Chris, the guy I hiked with in Glacier, to stop at every last scenic outlook & take photos (I don’t, sorry). I do stop at more than I probably would otherwise. Moreso of family vacations as a kid – two weeks of car driving and car camping with 5 people in a station wagon. I’m not sure what we did, but I’m guessing dad drove out to Wisconsin and we drove home, or something like that. I remember Evan’s Plunge (which I skipped the 120 mile detour to today); I remember Wall Drug (also avoided today), and Mt. Rushmore (also skipped)… I don’t necessarily remember the Badlands, but I can’t imagine dad passed that up if we were here. Or the Black Hills. Hmm.
Anyway, the Badlands … are bizarre. Beautiful and fascinating and strange.
I debate about staying until sunset – they deserve much better light – but decide I will push on. Decide that for the rest of South Dakota, actually. I’m not sure why I’m so delighted to leave this state, but I am. So I skip going down to the Black Hills, Wind Cave, Custer (another place we visited before), Mt. Rushmore, even Hot Springs and Evan’s Plunge. Onward to Wyoming!
One thing I will say for South Dakota: it satisfies my scenery wishes. Amber waves, blue sky, puffy white clouds… total prairie. Black-eyed susans line the freeway, and I pass a clear crop of sunflowers. All the colors that speak so greatly to the heartland…
In Wyoming, the scenery shifts: rolling hills, bigger hills, back to true mountains… I can even see the Rockies in the distance, eventually. If South Dakota somehow speaks of cowboys and Indians, Wyoming only speaks of cowboys, home on the range, short summers and harsh winters. The latter is true of South Dakota too, but of a different kind. (There was a book I considered for Mahina about “If you don’t live on the prairie” and spoke to “you don’t know wind, sun, grass, snow…” True. There’s an intimate relationship with all those things if you live on the prairie, as nothing blocks your interaction.) They also have gates on the freeway. If weather gets too inclement, the gates go down, and you’re stuck. Whoa.
Delightfully, the weather seems to be on my side for once. I ask the guy at the visitor center in Gillette, WY, about the weather at Yellowstone. He’s got a forecast for sunny sunny days for the next few. Of course… umm, yeah, at 8,000 feet, it’ll be in the mid-30s at night. Yikes! We’ll see how the first night of camping goes. I did okay at Glacier, and I’ve got the long johns… Still, that’s cold. But clear, sunny, 70s during the day. Ooh, yeah.
The plan was to go to Sheridan, WY, but a number of things sway my decision. Hwy 16 effectively advertises it’s the most scenic (probably not) and safest and shortest way through (that appeals to me). Hwy 16 is the route to Thermopolis, home of a… oh, you guessed it, hot springs! Ahh. I consider the routes, and drive farther today, maybe a little less tomorrow, and aim for the mineral pools again. Yeah, I have my preferences. (On the way out of Yellowstone is another hot springs… ooh!)
I wind up traveling about 600 miles today into Worland, WY. It’s a pretty small town of 5,000 at about 5,000 feet elevation, too. I head out for a bike ride when I get in. Not too long, maybe a half-hour. I ride around town, then up out of town on a road that goes to the airport. Climb a small hill and turn around down a lane with a couple farms… one growing apples, which smell oh-so-sweet hanging on the trees. I ride back, cross the main road (“Big Horn Ave”) and manage a left turn down a street that passes the Pepsi-Cola bottling plant (clearly the main industry here) and puts me back right next to my hotel. I get flipped off by a car… yup, clearly not enough room here in Worland for bikes and cars. Not only is the road wide enough, but I imagine I added, what, 3-4 seconds to their drive?? Still, it’s nice to see the small town and get a feel for the place. I think I should have done this more in other towns, then remember – oh yeah, it rained for three days straight across Canada.
Price of gas: $3.69
Mitchell, SD to Worland, WY
I should point out that Worland, WY, alphabetically is the last town in the last state in the Union. Hah! Very cool.
This morning dawns brilliantly sunny, but cold! I’m surprised at how nippy it is. Ah, the Midwest. Not the mild PNW. It’s also windy. Oh yeah, open plain, nothing to stop it…
The first couple of hours are boring, but it’s okay. There's a lot of roadkill. Every few miles, something on the side of the road... usually small critters, but also big ones - jackalopes, sadly enough. It's gross. Of course, my windshield reflects my bug kills...
Unusually in the book I’m listening to, Ted Sorensen not only wrote the book, but is reading it, which gives a uniquely personal perspective to the writing. You can hear in his voice when he’s anguished, when he’s challenged, when he wanted to do more, but couldn’t… it makes it much more engaging, and that allows me not to focus on time or mileage. He is also a Unitarian, which is wild, and I'm thrilled with his personal morality and how it influenced Kennedy.
I also cross back into the Mountain time zone! Woo-hoo! It’s very different between flying and driving. Flying, it makes sense that when you are somewhere else, the time is different. Not so driving: why is there magically an hour difference between here and there? No idea.
One more thing about South Dakota: the level of billboards is extremely annoying. I think about I-90 in Washington and the mountains to sound greenway - so nice. South Dakota has billboards for Wall Drug for nearly 400 miles. Gross!!!
I reach the Badlands and take the scenic loop. I turn off Ted as I’m stopping frequently, and am surprised at the number of radio stations I’m still picking up. Okay, they’re mostly both kinds – Country and Western – but I pick up an Indian radio station too, and one that’s playing Top 40 hits. Out where I am, this is decidedly surprising. (Someday I’ll describe the stations available on the Olympic Peninsula in Washington…)
Something else I notice: the speed limit is 75 in South Dakota, which I’ve been driving on cruise control (bless cruise control, it’s fabulous). My gas mileage goes down about 30-40 miles on this tank of gas. Hmm, I don’t think so. Thereafter I set my cruise control about 66 or 67… the extra time is kinda irrelevant, I prefer the increased mileage.
The Badlands are fascinating, and are causing all kinds of echoes. Most recently of Chris, the guy I hiked with in Glacier, to stop at every last scenic outlook & take photos (I don’t, sorry). I do stop at more than I probably would otherwise. Moreso of family vacations as a kid – two weeks of car driving and car camping with 5 people in a station wagon. I’m not sure what we did, but I’m guessing dad drove out to Wisconsin and we drove home, or something like that. I remember Evan’s Plunge (which I skipped the 120 mile detour to today); I remember Wall Drug (also avoided today), and Mt. Rushmore (also skipped)… I don’t necessarily remember the Badlands, but I can’t imagine dad passed that up if we were here. Or the Black Hills. Hmm.
Anyway, the Badlands … are bizarre. Beautiful and fascinating and strange.
I debate about staying until sunset – they deserve much better light – but decide I will push on. Decide that for the rest of South Dakota, actually. I’m not sure why I’m so delighted to leave this state, but I am. So I skip going down to the Black Hills, Wind Cave, Custer (another place we visited before), Mt. Rushmore, even Hot Springs and Evan’s Plunge. Onward to Wyoming!
One thing I will say for South Dakota: it satisfies my scenery wishes. Amber waves, blue sky, puffy white clouds… total prairie. Black-eyed susans line the freeway, and I pass a clear crop of sunflowers. All the colors that speak so greatly to the heartland…
In Wyoming, the scenery shifts: rolling hills, bigger hills, back to true mountains… I can even see the Rockies in the distance, eventually. If South Dakota somehow speaks of cowboys and Indians, Wyoming only speaks of cowboys, home on the range, short summers and harsh winters. The latter is true of South Dakota too, but of a different kind. (There was a book I considered for Mahina about “If you don’t live on the prairie” and spoke to “you don’t know wind, sun, grass, snow…” True. There’s an intimate relationship with all those things if you live on the prairie, as nothing blocks your interaction.) They also have gates on the freeway. If weather gets too inclement, the gates go down, and you’re stuck. Whoa.
Delightfully, the weather seems to be on my side for once. I ask the guy at the visitor center in Gillette, WY, about the weather at Yellowstone. He’s got a forecast for sunny sunny days for the next few. Of course… umm, yeah, at 8,000 feet, it’ll be in the mid-30s at night. Yikes! We’ll see how the first night of camping goes. I did okay at Glacier, and I’ve got the long johns… Still, that’s cold. But clear, sunny, 70s during the day. Ooh, yeah.
The plan was to go to Sheridan, WY, but a number of things sway my decision. Hwy 16 effectively advertises it’s the most scenic (probably not) and safest and shortest way through (that appeals to me). Hwy 16 is the route to Thermopolis, home of a… oh, you guessed it, hot springs! Ahh. I consider the routes, and drive farther today, maybe a little less tomorrow, and aim for the mineral pools again. Yeah, I have my preferences. (On the way out of Yellowstone is another hot springs… ooh!)
I wind up traveling about 600 miles today into Worland, WY. It’s a pretty small town of 5,000 at about 5,000 feet elevation, too. I head out for a bike ride when I get in. Not too long, maybe a half-hour. I ride around town, then up out of town on a road that goes to the airport. Climb a small hill and turn around down a lane with a couple farms… one growing apples, which smell oh-so-sweet hanging on the trees. I ride back, cross the main road (“Big Horn Ave”) and manage a left turn down a street that passes the Pepsi-Cola bottling plant (clearly the main industry here) and puts me back right next to my hotel. I get flipped off by a car… yup, clearly not enough room here in Worland for bikes and cars. Not only is the road wide enough, but I imagine I added, what, 3-4 seconds to their drive??
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