Wind Swept and Desolate

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There's not much we can say about the praire in south-western Minnesota, other than we're glad to be out of there. The wind battered fiercely against the car the hours as we drove west on I-90. As Andras fought to keep the wheels straight, I stared out the window at the endless fields of grain. It became apparent very quickly that we wouldn't make it all the way to the Badlands by nightfall thanks to the wind slowing us down, so we headed north to visit Walnut Grove, one of the residences of pioneer author Laura Ingalls Wilder. My sister and I were also fans of the television show growing up and I think she might have read the books, so we thought a bit of nostalgia might break the monotony of the long drive.

We were wrong.

Admission to the museum was too pricey and all the buildings were replicas anyways. Very touristy, not very historic. Not historic at all actually. Three young girls in bonnets seemed to be having a good time, but being that we were older than 10, it didn't hold much of interest so we took a picture to show my sister and hit the road again. It does fill me with more compassion and sympathy for the hardwork and harsh conditions these settlers faced in this area. After five hours, the wind has already driven me to irritability--I can't imagine it being a constant presence.

On our way back to interstate we ran across Pipestone National Monument, a quarry of red pipstone used by Native Americans for the carving of ceremonial pipes. We bought our Interagency Pass for the National Parks here--we can't wait to use it for the rest of the summer. We took the 3/4 mile path around the grounds and watched one of the cultural demonstrators inside working on pipe-piece. The layer of pipestone sits diagnoally below the surface, so as more is quarried out, the deeper it must be dug. The wind starts picking up again, so we have to hurry back to the car.

Once into South Dakota we try to find a place to camp down for the night. Several calls to campsites in Mitchell yield nothing promising (one lady seems more concerned with our ages because, and I quote, "we can't just have people drinking in the campsite all night." First, even if we did want to drink, we're both plenty legal to do so, and second, how she made the jump from "Hello, I was wondering what the cost of one tent campsite was for tonight" to "Hello, I want to drink and be loud in your campsite all night" is beyond me.") Since we're there, we take our obligatory photo of the Corn Palace. The harvest isn't in yet, so many of the murals havn't yet been created. Oh well. We move on.

We did eventually find a spot to rest in Lake Vermillion State Park. The front we'd been fighting to stay ahead of all day finally caught up with us overnight, and the weather dipped down into the 40's. As we huddle together for warmth, we wonder why we ever left Lanesboro. It was so perfect and pleasant! This is one of our last nights before hitting the National Parks, though, some hopefully once we start visiting those things will turn back around for the better.

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Photos

Laura Ingalls Wilder Museum
In Walnut Grove, MN