Friday 15 November 2013

15th November 2013

After leaving Neil and Joel heading in the opposite direction back to Canada I caught yet another greyhound bus to take me from Missoula to Billings to collect my hire car. This was a pretty long journey that took most of the day and by the time I got to Billings I was already pairing back my plans to push on to Wyoming that night. Things deteriorated when I discovered I'd actually booked my car for collection in Butte rather than Billings 200 miles back from where I'd come. Thankfully the girl at the desk was really kind and managed to arrange for me to hire a different car to drive back to Butte to collect the car I should've been driving without costing me too much. So back to Butte it was and ever farther from my planned destination.


By the time I got the actual car I'd be driving east, a rather sleek black Nissan Altima complete with cruise control and a booking stereo with bluetooth connection for my iphone it was almost 11pm. My original plan for Wyoming was now well and truly up the spout and the best I could hope for was to make it back to Billings and making the trip to Wyoming the next day. This would take a further three hours and was made all the more difficult with the conditions throwing up pretty much every shitty bit of weather you could name: freezing fog, snow and icy roads. Somehow I managed to hold it all together and by around 2am I stopped at a motel just about 60 miles short of Billings.


The next day I'd given up on cursing my stupidity and feeling frustrated about loosing time to enjoy the different stops I'd plotted along my route (its hard to stay pissed off (even at yourself) when you're confronted with Montana). A new plan in mind I set off for that day's new final destination: Rapid City, South Dakota. Along the way I'd visit Devil's Tower – a 300 and something metre rock formation in Wyoming, buoyed by the knowledge the drive itself would offer ample opportunity to reflect on my trip, the book that's becoming ever more coherent and listen to music – loud; all while soaking up the wondrous landscapes of Montana and Wyoming that lay in wait.


I'd made it to Billings an hour after breakfast and the fearsome weather of the previous night had given way to blue skies with high cirrus clouds streaked across its pale blue expanse. On turning towards the south soon after I left the by now familiar landscapes I'd enjoyed in Montana for the last few days and entered the county of Big Horn where that foolhardy killer of innocents and celebrated American Custer got his ass handed to him. I didn't feel much like stopping here regardless of schedule but the landscape with its baron simplicity and geological formations was instantly reminiscent of the westerns I'd watched as a boy and man. And as things would turn out this was to be the theme of the day as Big Horn gave way to Crow Country – a native america reservation where the countryside was pocked with some of the most dilapidated settlements I've ever seen. I found out later that its not a good idea to stop here if you're white as there is so much animosity about the Crow's plight. All I could think of at the time was the movie Jeremiah Johnstone where Robert Redford is pursued by the Crow through the mountains relentlessly to avenge the ancestors for his crime of walking through their sacred burial ground. Soon enough I was to see mountains such as those he was pursued through as I finally entered Wyoming. First through the Big Horn mountains, then high plains and desert. All with those majestic Rocky mountains making up the horizon to the south and west. I wondered how it must've felt for the first pioneers entering such unfamiliar lands, and the native americas finding these strangers with their guns and sense of entitlement but most of all I thought how I would have longed to be one of those people native or pioneer who was able to walk this land before roads and settlements of concrete and glass arrived...


I stopped in the little town of Sheridan, Wyoming for some lunch where the town is laid out along the same lines I imagine it was when originally settled with one long main street marking almost all of the settlement. It must've been the sight for at least a couple of duels and maybe even a heist of the Wells Fargo bank which completely authentic. I stopped in to a rather elegant restaurant and enjoyed friendly service from a wholesome Wyoming girl and stretched my legs a little before getting back on I-90 and making for Devil's Tower. I'd decided to visit Devil's Tower pretty late in the day but when you see a picture (I've included one below) of it you understand how otherworldly it is, and in my book that's a good enough reason to seek it out (you might also recognise it from the movie Close Encounters of the Third Kind). By the time I arrived the sun was waning and cast its light across the fields of windswept wheat surrounding it a glistening blanket of gold against the imposing darkness of the leviathan. I was once more in a state of awe at the natural beauty here in the west. Back in the car I travelled onwards for another couple of hours coming down from the high plains past the historic town of Deadwood, arriving in Rapid City, South Dakota 600 miles under my belt for the day, craving for a deep restful sleep.




I got up early the next day and made my way to the Black Hills to visit Mount Rushmore and Crazy Horse statues. Mount Rushmore was a little underwhelming, although it did peak my interest in the President I knew least about – Teddy Roosevelt. It inevitably suffered when held in comparison to the much grander albeit incomplete statue of Crazy Horse nearby that will when finished consume the entire mountain its cast from. Crazy Horse didn't win any prizes either when held in comparison to the Black Hills where both monuments lie. Forested and covered in snow these rolling hills were yet another inspirational aspect of the natural beauty in all its abundance that marks this part of the world.


By lunchtime I was on the road for my last stop of the day: the Badlands of South Dakota. These jagged rock formations are like nothing else and should be visited by everyone at least once if humanly possible. Their serrated forms rise out of the plains and have an ethereal feel that is quite unlike any other I've known. I know it seems strange to describe them as ethereal given their imposing nature and permanence but they felt like I'd dreamt or hallucinated their ghostly forms. Perhaps it was the blanket of snow that covered them or my own preconceptions I'm not sure? Either way it was definitely enhanced when a long eared owl flew in front of my windscreen no more than 2 feet away! After a couple of enchanted hours travelling this strange world I resumed my journey east and pushed on for Minneapolis arriving at midnight. This would give me the luxury of not driving the next day and 900 miles under my belt for the day on the straightest most uneventful roads I expect I'll ever see I was pleased of that.


The home of Prince didn't seem willing to give up any of its secrets to me in the day I had to explore so I decided to take a visit to the polar opposite of the co-operatives and wide open spaces that had dominated proceedings thus far and head to the biggest shopping mall in the northern hemisphere: The Mall of America. There's not much I can tell you about this place that you couldn't guess short of the fact it has a series of roller-coasters in the centre of the complex and is barring this bright spot marked by vast areas coloured grey, beige or magnolia. Feeling like I'd made a big mistake, especially as the only item on my shopping list (stamps) seemed to be the only thing they didn't sell in there I made my way to the cinema and was happily transported to a happier place watching the fabulous new movie by Alphonso Cuaron: Gravity. If you haven't seen it on the big screen please do so while you can its a thing of beauty.



The next day marked my last in the car which by now I'd grown rather fond of and only required a quick 4 hour drive to Madison, Wisconsin where I was scheduled to spend 4 days in a Housing Co-operative. I'll let you know about that in my next post...

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