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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