Travels with The Rayman

Please note that this blog is old news.  When we were in Yellowstone, a few days before I wrote this post, my Uncle Ralph died and we left in a hurry to get home.  I’m now reclaiming my life and posting the blogs that have not yet been posted from our Badlands trip.  Hope you enjoy my old news.

Not much is happening right now.  It’s 7:30 and I’m without a signal.  Usually, in my signal-rich life, I’d be reading the NYTimes or the LATimes right now.  And this habit has been shattered by my lack of a good signal.  Actually, no signal at all.  We are camped in the middle of a forest, at about 6,000 feet far away from any town so the powers that be have not seen fit to provide, how shall I say it, communications.  More important to communicate to us the danger of bears.  Bears are apparently plentiful in these parts but you couldn’t prove it by me.  Have only seen two and they were at the other end of the park.

But, as you know by now, I digress!!

Living without signals causes us to pause and reflect.  It is no different than all these campers that zero in their satellite dishes looking for their signals.  And it is no different than all the young people that run around with their phones in hand doing whatever they do.  But being signal-less is a condition.  That’s because, I guess, we rely our information.  The weather.  What will the weather be today?  Don’t know.  My signal is missing.  Guess I’ll look out the window, grab a jacket and step outside.  Not knowing, I have selected levis as the pant of the day.  And layers.  Can’t go wrong with layers.  This is just one example of the information we are now lacking as we exist in the forest.

Without a signal, my blogs only exist in my built-in software inside my computer.  Once written, as this blog will soon be, I am unable to post the blog.  Cut and paste is my modus operandi.  Once composed, I cut and paste my work into my blog which is on-line, so to speak.  And once that is done, media must be added in the form of pictures, video, music or website links.  Having completed that process, I then post the blog and send out 6 group messages alerting the unsuspecting that we’ve been up to something.  However, a signal is needed to complete the processes.

Signals also pipe in communications from friends and family.  It’s a way to communicate in our modern age.  Previously, we may have picked up the phone (not here though, because we have no signal).  Or we may have sent a telegram.  Or a fax.  Or…we may just not have communicated at all.  Now, our choices are mind bogging.  Shall I email?  Facebook?  Text?   Some people do one thing and not the either.  And some people don’t do any of it (my Uncle Ralph).  Some people do it all.  They are the easiest to stay up with.  Yes, a signal lets us all stay up with each other.

Do extroverts miss the signal more than introverts?  Just wondering.

So what does a signal-less person do?  Well, we read, mostly.  Or play scrabble.  Or just talk.  Last night we decided to split a bison burger at the “lodge” across our dusty parking lot.  The lodge has a gift store, a 7-11 type “grocery” store, a reservation desk for travelers that stay at the lodge, and a bar and restaurant.  They are signal-less too.  And, let it be noted, that the phones have “Out of Service” signs scotched taped to the handsets.  Anyway, we meandered over to the restaurant and ordered out burger to split, a wine for moi and a beer for the Rayman.   And we talked.  Mostly about what our plan for the morning entailed as we were moving on to greener pastures.  How long with it take?  Shall we hook up the car?  (no because there is an almost 2000 foot incline to wrestle).   What will do once we are settled in at the Fishing Village location?  And as we were winding down our conversation, the Rayman hit his beer glass with his flailing hands and, of course, the glass spilled the beer in my direction.  My pants took the brunt of it.  The wait staff was not busy (we were there at 5:30) so they came to our rescue (in droves) and the next thing that appeared was a full glass of beer.  Oh, my.  Our waitress received a handsome tip on top of the tip.  And we wattled away happy as clams.  As an aside, the bison burger was very, very good.

Speaking of food, without a signal, there is no Epicurious, no Fine Foods, no LA Times and NYTimes which I lean on for menu planning.  Oh, don’t get me wrong.  I still will purchase a new cookbook now and then but not like I used to.   With a zillion recipes on line, a cookbook is a relic unless the author imparts information about cooking, not just recipes.  And since we try to keep our weight down in The Dog House, cookbooks are not high on the list of things that are needed when RVing.  For this trip, I did bring one cookbook that Ryan, number one son, gave me for Xmas.  It features Oregon recipes…sort of an anthology.  So, I brought it so that when in Oregon, we can cook some of the dishes together with Ryan.  That sounds like great fun to me!!

Without a signal, we are invisible to the outside world.  No one knows where we are.  Heck, we hardly know where we are!!  No one can reach us for anything.  We can’t reach anyone for anything.  We’re out of it.  In more ways than one.

Okay.  Okay.  Time to get packing.  We need to leave by 9:00 and signals beckon.  We may find a signal at Fishing Village as it is lakeside on one side and a signal may be able to get through.

Then we will exist again.

Heading west today. Leaving South Dakota on the prettiest day we’ve had here. The weather is warming and that is good since the road west has some mountains to explore and we intend to explore them.

As is par for the course, we headed off the I-90 onto backroads to arrive a Sheridan, Wyoming. What a drive. Firstly, Gillette is an oil and coal town and it is mighty ugly. Don’t ever bother going to Gillette unless you enjoy seeing big holes in the ground, those oil pump machines that look like grasshoppers, and a plethora of manufactured homes that have seen their better days. Actually, it is amazing how many old double and triple wide homes there are in these parts. We’ve seen them in all the states we have visited. And most of them look down and out. The other thing that we have seen are fences. Everywhere. Everything is fenced.

This is one of the fancy fences.

One thing fences don’t discourage are antelope. Driving down our two lane road today, we slowed and followed an antelope about 300 yards before the darn thing darted across the road exactly in front of us. Sure glad I slowed down. We also saw another hawk flying with a snake. As we cruised along at about 50 MPH, we saw three sheep running at us. They had “slipped” through the fence and were hightailing it down the road. A truck was turning out of a driveway (out in the middle of nowhere) and the driver stopped so that two young women could give chase. One was in flip-flops and on her cellphone. Modern cowgirl? Don’t know. It was a funny sight all the same. Didn’t realize sheep could run that fast!!

We did see many herd of antelope on the back road. A lot more antelope than cars or trucks combined. I estimate that total vehicle citing numbered about 30 for over 100 miles. Easy rider takes on a new connotation in my lexicon.

So, tomorrow we’re off to Cody, WY. We plan to stay there a few days and then we got to the Grand Tetons and Yellowstone. Hope to see elk there.

Oh, and today, we saw a bald eagle. First one this trip. it was nesting on top of pole that looks like it was placed there just for that reason. Quite a thrill anyway.

Beau is doing good and, therefore, so are we.

Today is the first Friday in June. My, how time flies. We packed up early and left Sheridan because we heard it was going to be a windy day. And when it’s windy, driving the Dog House is akin to riding a bucking bronco. You don’t want to do it. Weaving a bit of west into this blog.

The view on the highway between Gillette and Sheridan, WY.

We took the i-90 to the 14 and headed for Cody, Wyoming. We plan to spend the weekend here before we head to the Grand Teton National Park. Let’s see now. That will make it the 5th national park for us on this land voyage. What a fabulous national park system we have. In addition we have seen state parks and national monuments. And we have traversed national forests which is my segue for my next topic, Bighorn National Forest.

A Wyoming traffic jam.

Highway 14 intersects this national forest and what a highway it is. Hairpin turns while climbing, climbing, climbing only to peak out and have hairpin curves down the other side of the mountain. These mountains are huge and part of the Rockies. The road was in perfect condition and there were no cars on it. We did see one bus when it passed us!!! But, by and large we kept up our winning strategy of traffic avoidance while maximizing the wow factor. We also observed many deer and antelope and two moose (meese?).

Our first moose sighting.

Just kidding. And one squished snake on the road. But the majesty of the mountains was just breathtaking. Wallace Stegner, I am not but sure wish i had his writing ability. One feels entirely insignificant when wandering this part of the West. The sky was blue, the rivers were full and running with great purpose, always downhill. The wind wasn’t bad, thankfully and our trip was just punctuated with oohs, and ahhs. We drank it in and it was filling.

Stopping at the top (8,000 ft), we visited a Dept. of Forestry exhibit manned by a young woman who was very informative and, dare i say, attractive in her Smokey the Bear hat. Not sure why they wear those hats indoors.

Man and dog at the top.

But I digress.

We followed some steps down to observation decks that were built for people to look at the raging Shell River/creek. Wow. The noise the water generated was louder than a Bruce Springsteen rock concert. Quite amazing. There was still some snow here and there. I dubbed it “shady snow” because it was snow under trees in the shade. Incidentally, the forest has a beetle problem. It’s a different beetle, one native to this area. But it is ravaging the trees just the same.

Rayman was a scream. Literally. He didn’t want me to drive because I love to look for critters and he is afraid I’ll drive us off a cliff. I tell him I won’t but he is too caution to believe it, I surmise. So, he drove until we were back down on the other side of the mountain. While he was driving we talked about the pioneers moving across the country and encountering these behemoth mountains. And once on the other side, seeing a whole other chain of mountains in the western distance. OMG. We imagined it must have been very dispiriting.

We arrived in Cody in one piece. Set up the Dog House and drove around town just to check the place out. It sure has changed since I was here last in 1964.  Duh. Then we saw a park and walked Beau over it to let him run and get the lead out. Well, now. Along came a horse with a rider on his back clomping down the street and then into the park.. Beau chased the horse and Ray had a coronary. Enough said about that!!

Since it was Friday night, we decided to splurge and eat out at Irma’s Historic Hotel restaurant. It was average food but the inside of the place was fun…except for the guy that was carving the prime rib at the buffet table. He was with gun on his hip. I did not approve and thought it completely inappropriate but we stayed and ate because we had already ordered our food and drink. The old place had very high ceilings and the tin ceiling that was quite impressive. On the walls were trophy heads of various animals which is a bit off-putting but that is what they do here. And loads of old pictures including William Cody himself. It also had a great oak bar that ran down one side of the room. Our young waitress didn’t know zinfandel was red. The croutons were out of a bag. The pepper was on the table. Haute cuisine hasn’t arrived at irma’s yet.

It’s quarter to 9 and the sun has set but it is quite light out. The days here are very long. Plenty of time to get in trouble during day light!! Think I’ll close this out and post it tomorrow. Time to tuck myself in and read my book. No TV here and we exhausted our Borgen DVD and must send it back to Netflix.

Oh, one last observation. Our Dog House looks like riff raff compared to the towering RVs that are in this park. Huge diesel pushers with 27 slides. I’m looking out our front window at a Prevost Millennium. It is huge. Oh, well. it’s the start of the season and all the RV parks are filling up now. I’m sure we’ll see plenty more swank rigs. Today, on I-90 we saw a big truck pulling a big 5th wheel and a huge recreational boat. it is an amazing subculture on wheels.

Let the birthday party begin.

On Memorial Day, I was born.  Never had to go to school on my birthday which was fun and yet disappointing at the same time because no one had a party for me at school.  But that was then and this is now.  Memorial Day was actually on my birthday this year…just like the old days.  So what?  Not much.  It was a fun filled day like so many before it.  We played golf in gale force winds and moi got a birdie on the last hole.  Had a great dinner and got a bit high.  The cake was good but a bit dry because I think I overcooked it.  Baking in the altitude requires a bit of finesse which apparently I lack.  We ate it anyway.

Today we were to play golf with JoAnne again but the weather was really disagreeable and the game was called off.  So, what did we do instead?  We packed a picnic and headed to Sand Creek where the Ice’s have a cabin in Wyoming.  OMG.  What a fabulous place.  Chuck’s parents lived there.  The cabin is on a creek as the name implies and it is a beauty.  Treed, babbling stream with lots of trout, and stunning views from every window.  I did not take pictures because of a respect for privacy and now I am challenged to describe the scene to my readers.  The “cabin” has dual paned windows, a great roof, and looks like a house.  It has been in the family since forever.  The land was purchased for like $200 way back when.  The thing is, this property is located in a private reserve.  The land is owned by members.  You must be approved before you can consummate a deal.  If you sell  your house, it’s not a real estate transaction.  Only the house can sold, the land can’t.  There are very few of these type of arrangements in the country.  At any rate, their house is in the place and the Sand Creek meanders all around the area.  It is nirvana.

The refrigerator that held the can of worms.

One other piece of trivia.  Annenberg of newspaper fame built a house here.  He was a protoge of Wm. Randolph Hearst.  Owned newspapers in the East.  The house is now owned by the gov’t as the Mister got caught evading taxes and went to prison for a time.  Now it is a fish hatchery school, sort of.  Classes are held.  The building (home) is absolutely beautiful.  Okay, that was from memory.  Here is the real story.  Just clink the link.

http://wyoshpo.state.wy.us/NationalRegister/Site.aspx?ID=141

After lunch JoAnne and I sat in the living room sipping our CA wine and looking out the picture window at the creek.  The guys went on a tour of the house.  The next thing you know, Rayman bolts into the room and announces that Beau ate some rodent poison which he found under the bed.  Luckily, Rayman heard the crunch.  So, we all jumped in the car and headed back to Spearfish, SD.  It was about a 20 minute drive.  We called ahead and found a vet hospital that was open and staffed with a vet and told them we were on our way.  OMG.  That darn dog of ours.  He will eat anything.  And so we left him there for treatment.  However, the vet was at lunch so we killed some time by driving to the Spearfish Airfield which is named after Chuck’s grandfather to see if we could score a copy of the biography of his grandfather.  Great little airport.  Out of copies of the book.  They are on order as I understand it.  We then dropped off Rayman at the Dog House so he could go take care of Beau and JoAnne and Chuck and I returned to the cabin.

Inside the airport. Not your average place. The pics on the wall are of Chuck’s grandfather, Clyde Ice.

What a rack, as they say. Also at the airport.

Once at the cabin, JoAnne and I went fishing for trout right outside their house.  About 20 paces.  While fishing which I admittedly have not done since Patton was in the army, I managed to cast the worm that was impaled on the hook which was attached to the fishing line into a tree across the creek.  JoAnne and I tugged together on the line and it came whipping back across the creek and the hook lodged itself in my jacket.  And did I mention that worms in the can of worms that we bought in Beulah, Wy (just over the state line) were huge?  And we just tore them in half with our hands before braiding them onto the hook.  I got a nibble and lost a few worms as I flailed away casting and recasting the line and hook and worm.  Meanwhile, JoAnne caught two trout.  I was bummed.  I could see the trout.  They were even jumping.  But I think they sensed I was an inexperienced fisherwoman and just laughed at me as they ignored my big fat worms.  Those fish are smart.  Me, not so much.

But I digress.

Rayman picked up Beau with pills and instructions and a credit card receipt of $134.  JoAnne gave me her trout but not before she nonchalantly gutted said fish and threw the entrails over to the other side of the creek, declaring them critter food.  She is some dame, that’s all I can say.

It was past 5 p.m. and my derriere was cold from sitting on a small circle of cement (stepping stone size) amongst the weeds that line the creek.  I had tried crouching but my feet felt like they were falling asleep.  The wind was blowing a bit and the sky was not sunny all day.  Home, home, on the range.  So, we packed up and drove out of paradise back to Spearfish to find the Rayman at the Dog House with Beau and his medication (vitamin K).  We invited the Ice’s in for a glass of wine and Beau kept trying to hump things.  This is not his normal behavior.  The vitamin K must be an aphrodesiac (however it is spelled).  Who knew?  At least for dogs.

So that was our exciting day today.  We were to leave tomorrow but have decided to stay one more day just to be sure Beau is okay.  And then we will head out to parts unknown.  Or Sheridan, WY.  The taking in of the West will continue.

The state is quite beautiful.  We are currently at Chris’s Campground which is located at about 3900 feet above the sea.  Spring is a great time to visit because everything is green.  Flowers are blooming, those species that do that here in May/June.  We are experiencing weather not unlike home.  Mild.  One big difference.  Rain and hail.  Every day we have afternoon “showers” which are akin to hard rain back home.  Of course, being in the tin can, sound is amplfied.

The park is now full of families enjoying their 3 day weekend.  And the owners of the park have placed two calves and four baby goats in a pen and both Beau and myself love to visit them.  So cute.  And, the other kids like them too!!

Anyway.  South Dakota is a land of great beauty.  Yesterday we drove through Custer State Park for the price of a $20.  Not cheap but then they do things a bit differently here.  Property taxes are higher than California.  The sales tax is 8% and everything including food gets taxed.  There is no state income tax so all taxes serve to make up that shortfall, I’m guessing.

George’s good side, apparently.

But, I digress.

The park was beautiful.  Red stone rocks here and there and trees. (Did see dying trees here and the forest is being harvested aggressively unless they just cut down the dying trees.  Hard to say.)  We are presently in the Black Hills.  The name was picked by the Sioux and it was translated into english.  The Dakotans didn’t translate the name of Belle Fourche, though.  It’s still Bell Fourche.  Wonder why?  I have no earthly idea except maybe the french trappers that beat Lewis and Clark to the West had something to say about it.

Black Hill countryside with meandering stream.

This is a state that has coal and oil and they mean to use it.  We have yet to see one bit of solar and the state car is a big, gas hogging truck.  You can drive 80 on the freeways and many do but that’s okay but there is no traffic.  There are no wind turbines either.  An occasional old windmill (like you could build out of tinker toys when you were a kid) can be sighted and usually they are turning because the wind here is a force of nature, to be sure.  We are thinking that because it is a solidly red state, they have not warmed up the idea of conservation and new forms of energy.  JoAnne confirms this.

Buffalo family in Custer State Park.

Our friend, JoAnne, says there are two seasons in South Dakota.  Winter and road work seasons.  There is a great deal of construction going on here now.  They are tearing down a hill to widen the freeway with new off ramps.  The hill is now an eye sore.  Don’t know that story.  JoAnne has another great S.D. saying.  When people get married, their honeymoon starts in Hot Springs, SD and it ends up in Deadwood.   Just an aside.

The only way you know this is an election year is that we see lots of sign for local elections.  You know, Board of Supervisors, that kind of thing.  Haven’t seen Trump signs anywhere and that surprises us.  However, having said that, many people right here in the campground are flying their American flags.   And we’ve seen quite a few crosses on hills.  Lots of churches.

The highways are littered with billboards.  When you get out on the two lane roads you don’t see many.  But on the interstate, there are lots of them.  Like Los Angeles, I guess.

Man and bison.

The rain has about stopped but there is still thunder and presumably lightning near by.   No kids in the pool now.  All is quite on the Western Front.

Dakotans get their veggies from CA.  I bought romaine from Castroville for my Caesar’s salad.  How knows?  Maybe the strawberries are Santa Maria?  Saw some cherries.  They may be from WA.  Mostly the grasses are grown here.  Hay, alfalfa, that kind of thing.  South of the Black Hills, it takes 30 acres to support one cow.  It is dry and barren looking in the summer, we’re told.  That why all those homesteaders stopped homesteading.  If they didn’t have a water source, they were screwed.  The grasslands have reverted to, well, grasslands.

We saw the under construction Crazy Horse monument that this guy started back in 1947.  The head is done.  We will never see it completed.  The Indian artifacts in the museum at that site were quite interesting.  The owners pride themselves in doing it all without gov’t assistance.  Well, that has slowed everything to a snail’s pace.  We think they might want to rethink that business model otherwise, your grandchildren might not see it either.

Road kill has included a porcupine and many deer.  An occasional prairie dog.  The woman at the old homestead historic sight reported that prairie dog is good eating.  Probably help those people survive.   Sturgis, South Dakota is known for it’s motorcycle rallies every year so we checked the place out.  For the life of us, we don’t get the attraction to Sturgis.  It’s nothing special.  And our intrepid reporter, JoAnne, reports that police departments from all the neighboring states send their forces for that week because, well., maybe because those hog riders are a bit unruly now and then.  And a lot of the locals leave town.  It is a wild and crazy time.  Right now, Sturgis is deader than Deadwood.

So, that’s it in a nutshell.  Just some observations to report while it rains.  When the front passes, we will go the grocery store, get a few things to complete our grilled scallop dinner planned for tonight.  Oh, and speaking of tonight.  It doesn’t get dark until 9 p.m. and the sun comes up ridiculously early.

Today we were brought to our knees on the Spearfish Country Club golf course.  It wasn’t pretty.  However, we had a great time because we played with our friend, JoAnne Ice.  She is a member of this club and she not only got us on, but she had gift coupons that she used so we only had to pay for the golf cart.  And we needed a golf cart.  This course was, how shall I describe it, a lot of tough rough, with a little bit of fairway thrown in for good measure.  And it went up and down like a roller coaster.  And did I mention the wind?  The wind blew in from the north so it was cool and windy.  Rayman lost many balls.  It was a real test of golf and we failed.  However, a great time was had by all three of us.  So much fun to see JoAnne.  She spends half the year here and half the year in Los Osos.  Her husband, Chuck’s grandfather, settled here and this is where the family is well known.  The local airport is named after his grandfather, Clyde Ice.  And Chuck lent us a book about his grandfather which we both hope to read before we leave Spearfish.

Our hostess, JoAnne and the Rayman

The most exciting thing that happened on the golf course was the hawk that we saw swoop up a green racer snake and fly off with it in it’s talons.  And a blackbird or crow was in hot pursuit.  Figured the other bird  wanted the hawk to drop the snake but that did not happen.  Tried to get a picture but no luck there.  Too hard to work the phone when one is all excited.  And we were on about the 15th hole.  I looked at JoAnne and asked her if they have a lot of snakes here.  She told me that the pro shop tells people not to look for their balls in the high grass which is exactly what we spend the morning doing.  Yikes.  Lucky that flying snake was the only one we saw.

Yesterday we ran errands and drove down to Rapid City where we experienced a hail storm.  It was coming down so hard and fast that I spotted a gas station with a high overhang so I squeezed in-between the cars that were lined up at the pumps.  And I was not the only one that thought of that.  We all sat in our quickly fogging up cars until the hale stopped.  The thing about the weather here is that if you don’t like it, wait 5 minutes.  It will probably change.  Layers are an important fashion consideration.  While we were shopping for mundane things in Rapid City, my chicken mole was cooking away in the slow cooker.  Boy it smelled good when we got back.  As I was making some caesar dressing, I checked my phone and JoAnne and texted me.  The Ice’s invited us over the wine and pizza.  Well, we weren’t going to turn that opportunity down.  And so we stopped meal preparation and skedaddled over to their place (very close to where we are at Chris’s RV Campground) for a lovely evening.  It was so much fun to talk to someone other than each other.  We had a great time.  Not that the Rayman is boring.  There is never a dull moment with him.  As all my readers must know by now!!

Tomorrow we are getting up really early and heading to Mount Rushmore.  It’s about an hour away.  Then we’ll take in Custer’s State Park.

Main drag in Deadwood.

Oh, I forgot to mention that after golf, we collected Beau and drove to Deadwood, SD and Lead (pronounced with a soft a).  Deadwood has gambling and they have used much of the proceeds to refurbish all the old buildings.  The Visitor’s Center is located in the old railroad station and it was, in fact, the railroad that made the area.  They discovered golf here in the 1800 and the town was never the same.  The town sits in a V shaped valley with big hills rising up from the bottom of the V, so to speak.  Believe me when i tell you this is no place for senior citizens to live.  All the houses are perched on the sides of the hills and are two story, at a minimum.  Lots of stairs just to enter the front door of these places.  The town is a tourist trap but cute.  Lead is up the road from Deadwood (where Wild Bill Hickok and Calamity Jane lived (not together).  Wild Bill was shot in the head while playing cards in Deadwood.

Hole in the ground in Lead, SD

But I digress.

Lead has a huge hole in the ground and JoAnne reports that because of the mine, homes are starting to slip a bit.  Just too much dirt removal.  My idea is for all people in the state to send their trash to Lead and fill up the hole.  It’s an eyesore to my way thinking and it is perfect for burying garbage.  Heck, the hole is already dug!!

Today we visited a Minuteman control room that was buried about 4 floors down near the Badlands.  Rayman was very excited because he worked around missile silos when he was in the Air Force.  I, on the other hand, had no idea what to expect and so I went along to see 1.) what a silo was  2.  what the mission control underground bunker entailed.  We were extremely lucky to get a really great guide.  He had worked at this mission control station when he was in the air force about 25 or 30 years ago.  So, here’s his best joke.  What did the dyslexic, insomniac, atheist do last night?   Answer.  Stayed up all night wondering if there really was a dog.

But I digress.

We saw huge, thick doors, old control panels with rotary dials.  He explained all the procedures for launching an end-of-the-world attack with the Minuteman missles.  Nothing was left to chance and all orders were verified, coded, with backup manual key turning involved.  Quite an operation and it just told me that no way should Donal Trump be president.  He might not even know that the Minuteman missiles versions 1 and 2 have been decommissioned.  Only the Minuteman missile, version 3s are still aimed and ready to rain down nuclear warheads on enemies.  Further, the gravity of the situation during the cold war was really brought home to me as a visitor to this historical site.  It was a war of deterrence which worked.  However, on several occasions we almost went to war.  Instead we sat on the brink of annihilation.  Believe me when I tell you, folks, that I do not want a real estate tycoon more known for running beauty pageants (no, it is not international experience), and firing people on TV to be in charge of firing these missiles.  Just no way.   The other thing that I wonder about is why Republicans want to drown the government in the bathtub.  All those trillions of dollars in military this and that have given us an excellent military.  Think what we could do if we valued, say, education the same way.  Or rapid transit?  or climate change?  Why don’t we want to spend serious money on these ventures?   We can do it.  And we can pay for it.  Isn’t it worth it?  I wonder about all these things tonight.  Which may or may not be why travel is so interesting.  It gets you thinking.

And I learned that women now run the current iteration of the Minuteman missile program.  When they integrated the personnel, it was in the late 70s.  Now it’s a completely different situation, with women in charge.  The thing is that when you are down in the control room, you are there for like 3 days at a time.  You do not come out.  It is very labor intensive to come and go so movement is kept to a minimum.   You take turns sleeping with only person sleeping at any one time.  (there are three people in each shift).  It takes a special kind of person to be able to do this work.  He says they keep you busy but when you are not busy, you study for your Master’s degree.  I know I could not do it.  Way too confined.  I will say though, our guide, Jim, had a wonderful complexion.  From lack of sun exposure, I’m sure.

Let me see.  What else?  Oh, we visited a house on the prairie that was a homestead.  Mr. and Mrs. Brown homesteaded 160 acres just outside the entrance to the Badlands National Park.

With a dirt floor and built into the side of a hill, it gave one pause to think about making such a venture successful.  They did this because the government incented people to move West with the Homestead Act.  I knew all this but to see it an actual homestead was quite interesting.

After our visit to the Minuteman command center, we drove down the road to see one of the silos.  Looked right into it’s glass top and there it was.  The missile (goodness they look phallic) was still there sans the warhead.  Rayman reported that his silos were bigger.  Just saying.

After all this education, we drove back to Wall, South Dakota reading all the Wall Drug signs strewn along I-90.  There was nothing else to look at because there was, again, no traffic.  At this point the Rayman pointed out that the I-90 was build to accommodate all those missiles.  Still it is annoying to see almost no traffic on a four lane freeway.  Okay.  I’ll give it a rest.

We packed up the Dog House and headed to Spearfish.  We had seen everything we came to see and it was time to move on.

Spearfish is a lovely little town and we scored a wonderful spot for 8 days.  It has trees everywhere.  There are few people here as their season hasn’t gotten started yet.  If fact, as I type I’m listening to thunder and pitter patter of rain on the tin can we call home.  Thankfully, it is not cold (it’s snowing in Yellowstone right now) and I don’t care to experience that again.  Of course, unless we have to.   We are currently at 3970 feet about sea level.  Hopefully a cold front won’t follow the rain.

Last night I fixed shrimp and asparagus risotto.  It was wonderful.  So wonderful that when I took my shower, the Beaumeister helped himself to the leftovers that were cooling on the table.  Bad me.  So, this p.m. when we arrived here at Spearfish, we set up, cleaned the Dog House and decided we were really hungry.  Found a great Mexican fusion place, composed my own salad, Rayman composed his own taco (they made them as you watched), ordered a beer to split and chowed down.  Then if was off to Safeway for a few groceries and here we are safe and sound for the night.