It took me years to get those souvenirs

Today's weather was much more manageable as I explored the northwest corner of Kansas while listening to classic country western, baseball, and the NBA playoffs on the radio. I had to skip a few places I had wanted to explore on account of my new-found phobia of muddy gravel roads (see yesterday's post), but it was still a productive day. 

In Bird City, Kansas, a evangelical church on the main street has a digital sign that flashes various messages including "Welcome to Bird City," bible verses, and "Evolution is a lie!" I felt both welcomed and amused.

At Monument Rocks, an unusual geologic formation smack dab in the middle of nowhere, I ran into a younger couple that was far more invested in taking selfies than they were looking around. All of the many takes of each shot looked exhausting.

Tomorrow - US Highway 36 and home.

Post title: John Prine - Souvenirs

Make me as big and open as the plains

In my travels today, I encountered rain, snow, sleet, and lots and lots of mud.

The day began with a failed attempt to visit what remains of Cornell, Nebraska, southwest of Culbertson. I ended up on what appeared to be a gravel road, but what was actually almost entirely mud. The car sank and turned on its own, and I fought to turn around and get moving again. After a few harrowing moments of spinning tires and nearly sliding into the grass along the road, I managed to get out and back to the safety of pavement. 

In the impossibly tiny town of Parks, Nebraska, I met a couple that had lived there for almost twenty years. And in that twenty years, people have died off one by one and no one has moved in to take their place or attempted to keep up the homes. The result is two very nice people living in the ruins of what once was a town that now has less than ten residents and dilipitated buildings everywhere. In fact, one of the old grain elevators just fell down earlier this week. 

I have wanted to visit northeast Colorado ever since becoming enthralled by the novels of Kent Haruf. His stories take place in the fictional town of Holt, a pseudonym for the real-life town of Yuma, Colorado where he once lived. The books are both beautiful and haunting, a reminder that there is a meanness to life in a small town in the middle of nowhere, despite the myth of the “real America” and the “good old days.” Yuma is much like most other high plains towns, but it was still fun to imagine where the McPheron Brothers would have lived. 

There was blowing snow near Last Chance, Colorado that made the landscape look like it was right out of the movie Fargo. 

Kansas tomorrow!

Post title: Johnny Cash - Oh, Bury Me Not

Out and about...

I'm heading to the high plains of Nebraska, Colorado, and Kansas to explore for a few days. Today was spent driving across the southern edge of Nebraska collecting a few more anniversary photographs and revisiting places I haven't seen in quite some time. And then there was rain - unrelenting and cold - and it was dark before it was its time.

Tomorrow - Three corners, the landscape of Kent Haruf, and whatever else I may come across.

And I added a few more anniversary pairings...

I want to sit alone on that riverbank 'til I forget that I can talk

I made a trek to Keokuk, Iowa this weekend, an old Mississippi River town in the farthest south-east corner of Iowa. Keokuk is an interesting place, with rows of grand old homes that overlook the river and an expansive downtown area that has been largely relegated to the past thanks to the Wal-Mart on the edge of town. It's also the kind of place where you can buy a seven-bedroom mansion for less money than a typical West Omaha home goes for these days.

Keokuk

Mississippi River near Montrose

Ottumwa

Menlo

Delta

Post title: Conor Oberst - Time Forgot