Some unexpected color

I loved these sandstone cliffs along the Belle Fourche river near Devil's Tower; the color was such a surprise in the middle of the greens and yellows and browns of the prairies.

It reminded me of the banks of the Zambezi river in Zambia.

It really is strange...

...in a way that you can't appreciate close up. It's when you're still miles away, and all of a sudden you see this crazy, lopped-off mountain standing by itself in the middle of nowhere that you think, “What the everlasting f**k is that?”

You can see why Spielberg had the aliens in Close Encounters land there. Sadly, just as I failed to find Cary Grant at Mount Rushmore, this was the only alien I saw at Devil's Tower—in the gift shop.

Devil's Tower

We cut across a corner of Wyoming going from Montana to South Dakota so we could visit Devil's Tower. If you're not going to climb it—and many crazy people do—there's not much to do except walk around and admire the behemoth from a few angles, take some pictures, and go.

More mountain Xanax

Deep breaths

I basically emptied out the suitcase, washed everything, and packed it up again, getting ready to fly to London very early on Friday morning.

I was feeling pretty proud of myself until I spent half the afternoon looking for my keys. I knew they were in the apartment because I was in the apartment and couldn't have achieved that without them, but they weren’t on the counter, or in my purse, or in my pocket or on the floor. I ended up taking everything back out of the suitcase in case I had somehow managed to pack them (I hadn't) so now I have to pack again.

I'm taking deep breaths and looking at pretty pictures of mountains in Glacier National Park to calm myself down again. It's a good thing they don't administer IQ tests at border crossings or I might be out of luck right now. (I did find the keys, by the way—in the silverware drawer.)

More bighorns, plus a baby

Unfortunately, the picture of the lamb is blurry, but the cuteness comes through.

More Glacier fauna

We thought that these nosy creatures checking us out through our windshield were mountain goats, but they are actually bighorn sheep.

We never did see a moose, but we probably were able to get a lot closer to these sheep than we ever would to a moose.

A Møøse once bit my sister...

And I segue seamlessly from Monty Python to early morning in Glacier, where we had been hoping to see moose. (Or møøse.)

And now for something completely different

This chipmunk in Glacier National Park does not get any of the Monty Python references, and clearly isn't impressed by anything I have to say.

Lovely Spam! Wonderful Spam!

Of course there was an entire exhibit devoted to Monty Python, and explaining, with some pride I think, how junk email came to be called Spam.

Meaty Juicy Satisfaction

That is what Spam is called in China, a fact I learned at the Spam museum in Austin, Minnesota. Although the museum rightly focuses on all things Spammish, they also include exhibits for other Hormel products, like chili. Hence this giant chili dog. (It's allegedly a sofa, though I'm not sure where exactly you're supposed to sit.)

So after breakfasting on ice cream, lunch consisted of a Spam slider. I haven't eaten Spam since I was a kid, nor have I wanted to, but I have to admit that taste brought back memories of sitting at the kitchen table in San Francisco eating my mom's grilled cheese and Spam sandwiches for Saturday dinner. Proust's Spam sandwich.

Sunday bird blogging

A pair of magpies at a rest stop in Montana.

What Would Jesus Eat?

A coffeehouse across the street from the ice cream parlor.

The Ice Cream Capitol of the World

The main street in Le Mars. You can see a couple of the giant ice cream cones celebrating the town's status as ice cream capital.

Breakfast of Champions

We had detoured into Iowa on our last day's drive from Sioux Falls back to Minneapolis to visit this landmark: the Blue Bunny ice cream parlor in Le Mars.

Because it was out of the way and we had a long day's drive, we left Sioux Falls early and were there shortly after it opened. Ice cream for breakfast was a sacrifice I was willing to make.

It was delicious.

Crops

One of the things I loved about driving past the endless farms on this trip was the way the shape of the rows in the fields would appear when we were directly opposite them and then disappear into the endless green leaves again as we passed. Sometimes the rows curved, so it was like the fields were dancing as they flew past us.

This field was somewhere near Hawkeye, but I don't know if this is corn or more soybeans. When I saw similar fields in Minnesota at the beginning of the trip my brother told me, “If it's in rows, it's corn. If it's not, it's soybeans." I was surprised that the corn was so short, but apparently the saying is, Knee-high by the Fourth of July. I don't think the plants in this picture are knee-high, despite it being taken on July 4th, but as I didn't get out to measure them, I am willing to leave it a mystery.

Hawkeye Point

In case you can't read the sign on the tank, this is the highest point in Iowa: elevation 1670 feet.

The picture on the right shows the view from the heights, looking down on the surrounding fields. (I originally assumed it was corn, because Iowa, but apparently these fields are mostly soybeans.)

I do have many more pictures of the badlands but I think we can all use a break from the desolation.

Saturday reflections

Something very different: windows on the main street in Deadwood, South Dakota.

Recreation in Hell

The biggest shock in this inhospitable landscape was that people were actually biking there. Apparently on purpose! For fun!

Apart from the fact that it was over 100 degrees and there is no shelter for many, many miles, I don't know how you could carry enough water to keep yourself alive.

More badlands

Between and beyond the buttes is just more flat prairie, with (if you look very closely) maybe one or two lonely trees to break up the horizontals and signal a possible source of water.

Landscape contrasts

When you stand on the edge of the canyon in the picture on the left and turn around, you see the prairie on the right.

I don’t give a damn for the same old played out scenes

Badlands, of course. And Badlands National Park in South Dakota yesterday.

It was brutally hot there but it is hard to imagine that this landscape would be welcoming on the mildest spring day. North Dakota and eastern Montana are flat, but the land around these badlands has no hills, no rises, not even a bump. It's almost perfectly two-dimensional. Then the prairie cracks open and falls away into canyons full of rock formations surrounding more empty plains stretching into forever.

Oh, and I also went here today

Where the deer and the antelope play

It's not all scenery in the park. We saw a big herd of bison, lots of prairie dogs, and several of these pronghorns.

Custer State Park

More of the odd and beautiful rock formations along the road in the park.

Cathedral Spires

These are the most famous—and spectacular—of the granite rock formations in the beautiful Custer State Park in western South Dakota.

Unknown soldier memorial

A closer look at the memorial. (The bright sun and shadows from the trees made it hard to read the inscriptions.)