Chadron Nebraska to Custer State Park, South Dakota.Friday 14th August.Mile 1951
Our only day under overcast skies. Still, we had a walk near our campsite up on the Black Hills Overlook - a walk that turned into a half hour run, as Tom insisted on the "tag" theme throughout. Then it was off north. Not much reason to come back to Nebraska, though thanks to Helen's email tipoff, we did both see a meteor streak through starry skies before we went to sleep last night.
Mile 37 - RAIN !! But not for long.
We amused ourselves a little, working out the economics of petrol prices - rockbottom in Wyoming (Cheney country), shot up in Nebraska, then dropped again by twenty cents a gallon as soon as we crossed to South Dakota. These things matter when you're filling up a thirsty RV....
In South Dakota, we stopped in the town of Hot Springs. Didn't look much, but with every corner turned, we became more intrigued - like seeing the auto mechanic who was lovingly restoring Chevrolet trucks (think 'Mater' in the "Cars" movie) from rustbuckets to sky-blue, smooth-hulled beauties; or the handsome sandstone buildings towering above their ramshackle neighbours; or at the end of a rundown row of shops, a cafe of fantastic character called the "Blue Bison", where we stopped for soup and sandwiches and, in T's case, a "birthday cake" flavoured icecream. The cafe further endeared itself to us with piles of reading material: Tom fell upon the Calvin and Hobbes cartoons, and we loved the local history books that showed how Hot Springs had really taken off in the 1890s. Its heyday was long gone, but a sense of character - and eccentricity - survived.
On the way back to the RV, we dipped into a door labelled "Smith Fargo Antiques & Mercantile", which turned out to be a huge and dusty emporium full of oddities: some stuff that only your great-aunt could love, some that was probably a real find. I unearthed boxes of old magazines and came away with, among others, the edition of Newsweek dated May 12th 1975. I had to buy it as soon as I read this on its contents page: "America's agonising struggle in Vietnam ended last week...." Cost: one dollar. Plus a Watergate issue, and another intriguing U.S. glossy called "Look" from 1966, with a cover story about England in crisis, facing devaluation, and moral decline...
Then as the skies stayed grey, we headed north towards Custer State Park - we'll have three nights there - to do our last hiking, and check out Mount Rushmore. As we got inside the park boundary, a big road sign warned "Large Wildlife on Road". Then another, "Buffalo are Dangerous - Do not approach". Hmmm, chance'd be a fine thing. All green green grass, and nowt else. When I saw "Slow Turtles Crossing", I started to think, is this satirical?? But a few buffalo and some pretty deer later, honour was somewhat satisfied.
We're at a state campground at Sylvan Lake - sounds kind of 1950s and feels that way too. The lake is very pretty, with folks scattered around it fishing, swimming, or hanging out at the wooden cabins nearby. Some sort of Garrison Keillor timewarp.
When we'd taken the trail back to the RV, we made pizza, then it was family film night again - Jurassic Park III - which had the nice side effect of spooking Tom enough to have him sitting on my knee. Ahh, that doesn't happen much now he's nearly seven. The movie prompted him to volunteer a few wise observations about evolution... "fish became humans didn't they?"... "so humans lay babies like dinosaurs laid eggs?"... We avoided the birds-and-bees talk for now by making popcorn, R and I had some rather nice chardonnay, and all was cosy and quiet.
Our only day under overcast skies. Still, we had a walk near our campsite up on the Black Hills Overlook - a walk that turned into a half hour run, as Tom insisted on the "tag" theme throughout. Then it was off north. Not much reason to come back to Nebraska, though thanks to Helen's email tipoff, we did both see a meteor streak through starry skies before we went to sleep last night.
Mile 37 - RAIN !! But not for long.
We amused ourselves a little, working out the economics of petrol prices - rockbottom in Wyoming (Cheney country), shot up in Nebraska, then dropped again by twenty cents a gallon as soon as we crossed to South Dakota. These things matter when you're filling up a thirsty RV....
In South Dakota, we stopped in the town of Hot Springs. Didn't look much, but with every corner turned, we became more intrigued - like seeing the auto mechanic who was lovingly restoring Chevrolet trucks (think 'Mater' in the "Cars" movie) from rustbuckets to sky-blue, smooth-hulled beauties; or the handsome sandstone buildings towering above their ramshackle neighbours; or at the end of a rundown row of shops, a cafe of fantastic character called the "Blue Bison", where we stopped for soup and sandwiches and, in T's case, a "birthday cake" flavoured icecream. The cafe further endeared itself to us with piles of reading material: Tom fell upon the Calvin and Hobbes cartoons, and we loved the local history books that showed how Hot Springs had really taken off in the 1890s. Its heyday was long gone, but a sense of character - and eccentricity - survived.
On the way back to the RV, we dipped into a door labelled "Smith Fargo Antiques & Mercantile", which turned out to be a huge and dusty emporium full of oddities: some stuff that only your great-aunt could love, some that was probably a real find. I unearthed boxes of old magazines and came away with, among others, the edition of Newsweek dated May 12th 1975. I had to buy it as soon as I read this on its contents page: "America's agonising struggle in Vietnam ended last week...." Cost: one dollar. Plus a Watergate issue, and another intriguing U.S. glossy called "Look" from 1966, with a cover story about England in crisis, facing devaluation, and moral decline...
Then as the skies stayed grey, we headed north towards Custer State Park - we'll have three nights there - to do our last hiking, and check out Mount Rushmore. As we got inside the park boundary, a big road sign warned "Large Wildlife on Road". Then another, "Buffalo are Dangerous - Do not approach". Hmmm, chance'd be a fine thing. All green green grass, and nowt else. When I saw "Slow Turtles Crossing", I started to think, is this satirical?? But a few buffalo and some pretty deer later, honour was somewhat satisfied.
We're at a state campground at Sylvan Lake - sounds kind of 1950s and feels that way too. The lake is very pretty, with folks scattered around it fishing, swimming, or hanging out at the wooden cabins nearby. Some sort of Garrison Keillor timewarp.
When we'd taken the trail back to the RV, we made pizza, then it was family film night again - Jurassic Park III - which had the nice side effect of spooking Tom enough to have him sitting on my knee. Ahh, that doesn't happen much now he's nearly seven. The movie prompted him to volunteer a few wise observations about evolution... "fish became humans didn't they?"... "so humans lay babies like dinosaurs laid eggs?"... We avoided the birds-and-bees talk for now by making popcorn, R and I had some rather nice chardonnay, and all was cosy and quiet.
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