We left Murdo a little after eight central time and headed west on 90. Twenty minutes outside of town, the time zone changed to mountain. We zipped along 90 with Ani DiFranco singing. The sky behind us was clear, and the sky in front of us was heavy with a thick layer of clouds. We watched the clouds apprehensively, but in another twenty minutes they dissipated, and the sky was a perfect, flawless shade of blue.

We passed by the first bison I have ever seen in my entire life outside of a zoo. Live bison, just chilling with other bison. It was freaking sweet.

We drove for about an hour; the signs for Wall Drug and The Badlands increased with alarming frequency, and by the time we saw the first evidence of The Badlands - the landscape breaking up into these small white hills - I was practically bouncing out of my seat.



We stopped at a gas station just outside of the entrance to the park to fill up. I got out to go to the bathroom, and this shaggy dog came running up to me. He butted his head against my hand and sat down on top of my feet, looking up at me with this huge doggy smile and two colored eyes. I pet him. Errol came over. "Does he have any tags?" he asked.

I checked. He had a worn leather collar, but nothing else.

"No," I said. My imagination went a little haywire. I imagined adopting this dog and taking him on the road with us! I could name him Dakota!

I went into the bathroom of the gas station. The dog followed me to the door, then stopped as I went inside. When I came back out, he was sitting at the far pump. I whistled lightly and he came bounding over. I pet him again.

"Don't you have a home?" I asked as his pink tongue lolled contentedly out of his mouth. I realized - practically - that there was no way I could take this dog with us. I pulled out my camera to take a picture.

A heavyset, grizzled man came walking out of the gas station and saw us.

"You want a picture? Here." He whistled and patted a large crate in the back of his pickup truck. The dog jumped up and leaped into the bed of the truck, jumping up on the crate and curling up like it was his bed.

"There ya go," the man said, and disappeared into the store. I took a picture.

"Thanks," I said, giving him one more pat before getting into the car. I never did find out his name.



We drove on to the Badlands. As we got closer to the park, we could see the... well, whatever they were. Mounds, hills, mountains - the steep white walls and organic, wind-and-water shaped formations - they were lovely.

(Note: I'm not posting every single Badland picture here. For more than what's here, check out The Next Great Adventure album.)



















As we drove, two prairie dogs skittered across the road. I braked very, very hard, and when I got out, I realized that on either side of this particular stretch of pavement there were hundreds of prairie dog holes. They noticed my presence and began to chitter loudly. I took a few pictures and got back inside.



We also saw a snake!



The Badlands were just... incredible. Every time we turned a corner, Errol and I would just say "Oh... my god. Oh... my... god." As I stood on the overlooks, staring out over the hundreds of miles of inhospitable land, I tried to imagine not being just a tourist, looking at it from a paved road, but someone trying to cross this land for the first time. It was a terrifying thought.

We finished up the Badlands Loop. The exit took us to Wall, SD, home of the infamous Wall Drug. It was around lunchtime, so we figured "Why not?"

Wall Drug is an interesting experience. According to the historical information that I picked up, a man purchased the drug store in the 30s. When they didn't get any business (I know what you're thinking: a drug store in the middle of nowhere in South Dakota in the 30s wasn't getting any business?!), the wife of the proprietor had an idea - offer free ice water to motorists.

The result is a place that resembles a South Dakota style South of the Border experience. The billboards start from hundreds of miles away, the amount of stuff that they sell is staggering, and the cheesy, camp of it all is not to be missed. We had a fun time at Wall Drug.

(Also, if any of you understand the book reference that I am acting out by kissing the bison, you win a million points.)











After we left Wall Drug (with the complimentary "Have you dug Wall Drug?" bumper sticker on Beatrice's rear), we continued to drive on 90. As we got closer to Mount Rushmore, we could see the Black Hills looming in the distance. (We also kept passing patches of not-quite melted snow, which was bizarre, considering it was 70-something degrees outside.)

We started the crawl into the Black Hills. Beatrice was a trooper - only once did I feel her straining slightly with the climb. We went up higher and higher into the Black Hills, and they were lovely.



The billboards for all of these random attractions kept increasing as well (including one "mystery attraction," which we didn't stop at, despite the fact that I was incredibly tempted). We skipped over the Borglum museum (I can only take so much historical information in one day) and drove straight up to Mount Rushmore. But not before passing this sign:



Mount Rushmore was cool. It was, however, somewhat smaller than I'd imagined. I guess I'd always imagined that the heads would be HUGE, and they didn't seem that big. Still, it was neat. And very... American.

(Also, I think we can agree that Gutzon Borglum is the most unfortunate name ever, yes?)













We left Mount Rushmore and began the climb back down from the Black Hills. We passed through a town called Hot Springs that reminded me of Jim Thorpe, PA.



We also saw a whole herd of bison on the side of the road.





After an hour, we caught our first glimpse of Wyoming.



The cheesy billboards behind us, everything sort of opened up, and we were on a long, flat road going into a wide open space. We passed the Welcome to Wyoming sign, which was small and unobtrusive and hardly noticeable. It was, after all, dwarfed by the sky.

There was no cell phone reception for hundreds of miles. I felt cut off, but it wasn't bad or scary, just strange.

The open space of Wyoming is dizzying. It's just a huge sky and a road, and you occasionally pass hills or trees and fences but it's always just... open space.











We drove and drove. I nodded off to sleep for a bit. We pulled into Torrington around five-thirty, checked into our hotel, and then went out for dinner.

And now! I need to take a shower and go have breakfast and get ready to get on the road again. Today we're seeing Rocky Mountain National Park, which is going to be SO AWESOME. I'm really excited.

Love you all!