Friday, May 23, 2014

The Badlands can be a pretty good place.

Rick, the mayor of Sentinel Butte, had invited us to stop by the gas station for some coffee before leaving town, so somewhere 'round nine we pull in and are greeted by a feisty little granny named Gerdie. I pull up a seat and she offers me a freshly baked carmel roll. We get to talking 'bout the differences between city folks and the people in small towns. Gerdie's been a part of this little community for nearly 75 years and probably wouldn't dream of moving to an urban setting. She has a pretty good way of putting it colloquially: 'You know those people in them big cities don't give a tinker's tootle when it comes to knowin' their neighbors.'

Eventually things start winding down and I'm ready to say goodbye. Rick loads me up with a refill on coffee, and Gerdie sends an extra carmel roll for the road. As the butte gets further and further away, I'm thinking, 'Sure would be nice to settle in a place like that, where community potlucks and game nights are commonplace.'

Along the road into Medora, Bud's bathing in the Billabongs and I'm on guard for snakes. We've made it to the Badlands and the temperature is climbing. Deserted homesteads, pallid ridges of sedimentary silt and sandstone surround . But the ever present horn of the BNSF lets you know that you're not alone.







 Into Medora we go... another frontier town put on the map by an affluent French fellow. Well, the Marquis's legacy remains, though predominately in facades and replicas mirroring architecture of the 'beef boom' period. The town seems to be marketed for weekend adventurists and senior travellers. But it's redemptive feature is it's location, right on the doorstep of the Theodore Roosevelt National Park. So, Buddy and I will enjoy a couple days of R & R here before setting out upon the open road again.



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