OK, I'm back! After some really gnarly grading that is still shaking out, I can finally devote time to La Blog.
The Rest of Montana, North Dakota
We thought we would never get out, and when we did, it was to North Dakota, but actually the drive was quite gorgeous in a green and rocky kind of way. With rain. Not lots of it, thank goodness. That was waiting.
We left the Miles City KOA with some regrets. Even nicer cabin:
Very funky town with drifting cottonwood fluffies, and the Tongue River that emptied down into the Yellowstone River. Scott walked down the levee road and took pictures and a neat video I can't seem to load:
I, meanwhile, was doing an 8-hour, non-stop, gut-it-out grading marathon. I went to bed at 1 a.m. and my eyes hurt. I had about 15 hours of grading left. At least it was great wifi.
The cabin and campground was the nicest place we had stayed yet, and I had really wanted to see the Mosquito Calling Contest. Umm. Maybe. We found those mosquitoes later, in Minnesota. I guess they have more powerful callers. The mourning doves hooted us awake after having yammered at us and the dog the day before.
On through North Dakota
As Scott drove us out of town and I gulped caffeine to wake from my grading death march, we had a little surprise about 16 miles or so out from Miles City. Our gas was at less than a quarter of a tank. There was nowhere to even turn off. We looked at the map and Scott drafted behind a triple Fed Ex truck. The driver probably thought we were stalking him. And we made it to Terry, MT! Whoo hoo!
We have to thank Xenios for the very wonderful book o' maps he gave us a while back. It has proved faithful, unlike Google directions, which have been very bogus.
We also have to thank Phoebe and Michael for those cups with the screw on tops! What a life saver in the van. And Fr. C for the role model he provided--Costco sucky mugs that never spill.
T-Lou, OTOH, cannot have water in the car anymore. Just think about it.
We were amazed by the beautiful little surprise villages in North Dakota, nestled in between hills, sudden lush green oases with old houses and trees with swings. We loved the little town of Wibaux, where we went to a rest stop. In the bathroom was a poster for the auction of a ranch: mostly farm equipment but also a little parlor organ, a china cabinet. Lunch was to be served by the ladies of the evangelical church of Plevna or something like that. And we have seen lots and lots of empty, stupid buildings and houses all through this country. Lives are being torn up.
We kept passing the triple Fed Ex truck, so for sure he knew we were stalkers! We passed a town called "Home on the Range." And now, through the magic of the Internet, I find out it's a very intense place for kids. Good, bad, don't know. We forgot another time change. Youch--Central Time for the duration until we head back home.
It was then that we started through the "World's Largest" corridor. First it was the World's Largest Holstein Cow, a statue on a barren hill that definitely stands out. Then it was the World's Largest Sandhill Crane, or at least a sign talking about him. Just east of Jamestown, it was the World's Largest Buffalo!
We also almost ran into some teenage swallows at the Bridge o' Death--they were definitely hot rodding punks who were daring each other to fly in front of windshields. We were starting to approach the infamous...Fargo.
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