Today was a good day. After three days of going to bed late and getting up super early, today we were able to sleep in. After I managed to roll out of the most comfortable bed ever, I had breakfast with Errol and my aunt. We picked dandelions out of her front lawn, I updated LJ, and we got on the road around eleven.
We left Savage. But not before getting a picture of the water tower.
We took off south on 35 until we hit I-90. Then, we began the 375 mile trek toward Murdo.
Minnesota, by and large, remained the same as everything we'd already seen. Green grass, farmland, blue skies. Errol and I chatted for a bit, then began putting in CDs (Paul Simon's Graceland, Jagged Little Pill... they were random, but good). I drove a good deal of the way, but got so tired that we switched places. I began to get a barrage of text messages about CA legalizing same-sex marriages. We continued to drive.
Around 3:30, we crossed over the border of South Dakota. This was the first state of the trip that I've never been to before. I held my breath as we crossed, waiting for something possibly miraculous to happen.
Nothing did.
Everything looked the same as Wisconsin and Minnesota. The only change that I noticed was the sudden quantity of billboards. Advertisements for Wall Drug, The Corn Palace, and various tourist traps and historical places. (Jon Lipe, I took this picture especially for you.)
We watched the sky grow dark and drove through about ten minutes of absolute downpour. We then cleared the system (still going roughly 80 miles per hour), and I watched the storm behind us in the sideview mirror as we drove toward blue skies.
I nodded off. Errol continued to drive as I passed out, most likely with my mouth open, in the soporific warmth of the car. Errol flipped down the sun visor to protect my face. I slept ungracefully.
Some time later, I woke up. My face felt greasy and my mouth tasted funny, but I didn't feel exhausted any more. Rubbing my eyes, I asked Errol if everything was all right. "Everything's fine," he assured me. I looked at the farmland and sky flashing past us. Still the same.
Route 90 made a sharp curve, and as I fiddled with my camera in my lap, I heard Errol gasp. I looked up, and my jaw fell open.
In front of us was the Missouri River. And behind it, the landscape was changing.
It was gorgeous. The hills rolled in this strange way - they were smooth and mild, but repetitive, and sometimes you could see these little hills over and over again as far as the eye can see. And then sometimes there was water. And it was stark and sometimes lush and strangely lovely.
It hit me. I swallowed hard.
"Errol," I said. "I'm moving. I'm moving out west."
"You are, chica," he said, his eyes never leaving the road. "You are."
Up until now, this trip has felt like a vacation. It's felt like me visiting various relatives that I haven't seen in a long time.
But now, it feels real.
Around seven, we pulled into Murdo. I checked in at the Best Western lobby.
"We were trying to decide when you pulled up," the woman said as I signed my receipt, "if you're a college student or you're moving."
"Moving," I said. "Far away."
She recommended a place just behind the motel for dinner. We put our stuff away in the room and walked to the restaurant.
The restaurant was exactly as you'd imagine a restaurant in a town like Murdo. A haggard looking waitress took our orders on a pad, the walls were wood paneling like you'd see in your uncle's basement, children in cowboy boots ran around as their parents slumped over chicken noodle soup, and men in hunting/ranching gear sat in groups of four at small tables and ate ice cream out of bowls with more delicacy that you'd think possible.
After a tasty dinner of burgers and salad and soup, we headed back to the motel. I took a walk around to take some pictures as the sun went down.
Tomorrow we'll be up at seven and out the door by eight (after grabbing some complimentary breakfast! Yay!). The time zone changes over to Mountain about twenty minutes east of town, so we should get to the Badlands by the time they open at eight. It'll be the Badlands, Wall Drug, Mount Rushmore, and then we're staying in Wyoming tomorrow night.
Love you all! Good night!
Copyright © 2008 Carmen Machado.
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by Martin Villiam Jensen.
Photo of Sandstone Dome
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