Yellowstone – Post Script

Caroline Wise at Disneyworld in Orlando, Florida in December 1999

Over the course of the previous fifteen years, I have been afforded the opportunity to travel to many a destination here in the United States. Matter of fact, I have been to all 48 of the continental geographic areas that cartographers charted as signifying individual states. More than states, I have seen the breadth of a country undivided and magnificent in its scope. From the Atlantic Ocean to the Pacific, I have traveled the continent bordered by Canada to the north and Mexico to the south. I have seen so much of this land that I now have in my mind’s eye a firsthand picture of how the surface of the U.S. changes from the wetlands and everglades of southern Florida up the Atlantic seaboard passing the Nation’s Capital on the way to the rocky and rugged state of Maine. The path from here cuts southwest down the Appalachian Trail leading to the Great Smokey Mountains before I travel to the forests of the southern United States, ultimately arriving in the Bayou country of Louisiana. The Great Plains in the center of America stretch from north to south over more than 1,500 miles and east to west over more than five hundred miles. I have stood at the headwaters of the great Mississippi River and crossed its widest points after those waters traveled more than 2,000 miles south to the Gulf of Mexico. I have stood atop the Rocky Mountains, strode through the Bear Tooth Mountain Range, been endeared by the Bitter Root Mountain Range in Idaho, ridden an old steam train from Durango to Silverton in the San Juan Mountains, hiked upon the Sierra Nevada, and stood next to 3,000-year-old bristlecone pine trees in the Great Basin. At Cape Flattery in the northwest corner of the state of Washington, I have looked out to sea and remember a thousand miles of Pacific coast to the south that I have traveled. Over 170 National Parks and Monuments have welcomed me, as have countless cities and towns across this land.

Caroline Wise posing with flowers on Anacapa Island in the Channel Islands during 2004

But, through all of this, I was never alone. I was never without love. My love of place was always with me, and so was another love. A love that reinforces my love of travel and enhances my appreciation for the journey and the destination. That love is the sustaining connection I have to my best friend, my partner, and my wife – Caroline. Twenty-one years in the making, we have developed a bond that, while probably not unbreakable, is as strong a force of togetherness as one might ever hope to have. A kind of synchronicity has formed between us where we will smile at one another at the same instant as we both become aware that we are witnessing or experiencing a perfect moment. The smile arises, knowing that the other is at the same point of awe, and we find each other’s eyes for confirmation that things are, in fact, just perfect. Our emotions spill into the other’s senses. Caroline’s tears can easily awaken my own tears to overflowing, and her smile just as easily puts my face beaming. We travel side-by-side, we laugh face-to-face, we nurse each other’s hurts, and we care for one another. As we walk along in life, we go hand in hand even when not literally hand-in-hand. As far as I know, we both have the best of intentions for our other half, the half that makes us whole. It is as though this pairing requires four eyes and two minds to make sense of and take the greatest pleasure of this world – our spirits kindly obliging this shared moment of our short existence.

Caroline Wise rescuing a turtle from the road near the Chesapeake Bay in Maryland May 2007

I love Caroline in ways spoken of by many a poet or romantic whose words have preceded my own and may have more eloquently captured the essence of love, but still, I cannot stop myself from wanting to let her know in my own words that she means the world to me. From the early years of our relationship, my love of her intellect and personal interests has matured to a love where I better sense and share her delight and recognize her appreciation for the beautiful. This intimate knowledge of her own connection to life fuels my continuing love for my best friend. It has been more than twenty years since a chance random kiss ignited a chemical chain reaction of olfactory exuberance that threw my senses into a long-lasting spell of infatuation. Over the intervening years, we have learned more about who each other is and plan to remain interested and involved in who we are becoming. We come to appreciate more of the diversity and abundance that life, culture, and friendship can bring to one’s life. We have endured and continue to stand hand-in-hand.

Caroline Wise leaving Yellowstone National Park January 20, 2010

Through this incredible love, life appears more colorful, more robust, and more full of passion. What is mundane or foreign can be embraced because our comfort and friendship have grown accustomed to accepting change. With a world of possibility, our horizons appear boundless, even with the realization that there are limits to time and to all things manifested by our fragile emotions and the uncertainty of physical being. But from a spiritual or soulful perspective, today is a perfect day to be in hopeless, infinite, apparent, ceaseless love. Four eyes, two minds, and two smiles dancing through a wondrous life, celebrating its rewards and travails.

Mother and Son Going to Buffalo, NY – Day 2

Texas Sunrise

It was 1:00 a.m. last night when I signed off. Somehow, my snoring didn’t make an impact; I will try harder tonight. The alarm rings before sunrise at 5:45, and just 45 minutes later, we are underway. It feels crazy that we are supposed to drive from Texas all the way to Minnesota today, but that’s our goal. I’m tired as I pull out of the parking lot; Mom is sleeping 5 minutes later.

Texas

We’re on Highway 54 through Texhoma, Oklahoma, while Mom sleeps quietly on my right. This is a great time of day as she’s not talking about food.

Oklahoma

Mom sleeps for another hour and a half, only waking briefly as we cross the Oklahoma Stateline.

Kansas

Mom opens an eye as we enter Kansas. This time, she stays awake as she’s hungry and wants breakfast. What kind of weird reality have I volunteered myself for? Driving through Liberal, Kansas, still on the 54, which is called Pancake Blvd here. As we drive through town, we see signs for Dorothy’s House and the Land of Oz, and just across the street is a Pancake House. Mom says, perfect. The Swedish pancakes are a kind of Kansanian interpretation but are still yummy. We leave, agreeing we could both go for a couple more of those lace-like pancakes.

Rolling hills, corn, and grasses punctuated by grain elevators are the major sights along our road. We have been driving northeast until reaching Pratt where we curve more northerly in order to catch the 135. Small towns, grain elevators, and rising humidity are drawing us toward Nebraska. Still in Kansas and approaching Salina, Caroline over in Arizona recommends we stop for lunch today at a BBQ in town. We nearly walked out after Mom saw the buffet appearance of the place, but she finally agreed to try it as Caroline’s recommendations haven’t failed me yet. We don’t regret our meal, another winner.

Nebraska

In Nebraska, 90 minutes later, the grain silos are replaced with corn silos. Wind pushes the humidity around, but it’s still just as hot and maybe more humid. There appear to be more trees in Nebraska than in Kansas, but it’s difficult to be certain. Mom is astonished that the land is not flatter than it is, pleasantly surprised even. Not surprising is the mosquito population. I will only afford these pests this quick bitter grumble.

Nebraska

Needing to drive more than 800 miles today, we have no time to stop for the sights; we pass barns, small towns, and dead raccoons by the dozen.

South Dakota

We are making good time on this bolt across half of America. As we arrive at the South Dakota Stateline, we are already more than 1,300 miles away from Phoenix, which we left just yesterday.

South Dakota

We are nearing sunset as we turn east to dip into a corner of Iowa. Not only had Mom not visited Kansas, Nebraska, South Dakota, or Minnesota but she had never stepped foot in Iowa. She now has bragging rights of having added four states she’d never visited today. Passing yet more farms and cornfields, I witnessed for the first time in my life one of the most enchanting sights I have yet seen: fireflies. Fireflies appear as fleeting glimmers of light rising off of the earth as though elves were popping in and out of the physical realm from the spiritual world. They wisp along the edge of the corn, are more abundant near tall grass, and when seen with a backdrop of trees, they look like miniature fireworks.

Iowa Sunset

A quick left and now northbound, the car brings us to Luverne, Minnesota, and the fifth new state for my mother on this trip. This is our stop for the evening. A nice little hotel called the Cozy Rest costs us $46 for the evening, and conveniently, there is a Smoky Bears Pizza place next door that serves up a decent meal. Thanks for feeding us.

It’s almost 11:15 p.m., and I’m about to quit taking these notes. The clock is set for 6:15. Tomorrow; we have a much shorter drive scheduled, which should allow for some serious experiences besides suffering the exhaustion I fought most of the day as we drove through seven states, likely a personal record.

Pioneer Cafe in Palisade, Nebraska – Day 3

Out in the flat part of Nebraska

Disclaimer: This post was updated in November 2022, as the original only included 1 photo. The bigger details were written back then, although a few things needed to be figured out.

This was the real reason for bringing my mother-in-law to the middle of America: the Great Plains.

Wheat in Nebraska

Golden waves of grain, living up to the American vision of things being beautiful and bountiful.

Abandoned farm vehicle in Nebraska

A spry 80-year-old widowed farmer feeding her cows crawled up over a nearby fence to chat with us and talk to us about her life out this way. She also told us about her favorite cafe not too far off.

Entering Palisade, Nebraska

That little old lady pointed us to Palisade and just over the railroad tracks on Main Street for breakfast. Love them grain silos.

At the Pioneer Cafe in Palisade, Nebraska with Jutta Engelhardt

We had a great breakfast at the Pioneer Cafe in Palisade, Nebraska. Ashley, the girl with the yellow shirt, was in training as this was her first day, and we were her first customers. The ladies at the Pioneer Cafe left a great impression on my mother-in-law, who thoroughly enjoyed their hospitality. If ever you find yourself near Palisade, Nebraska, you should stop in at 104 Main St for some great food, great service, and incredibly low prices.

Jutta Engelhardt at the Kansas Stateline

Kansas, you have the best Stateline sign for taking photos of people with the sunflower crowning them.

Grain silos in Monument, Kansas

Traveling on Kansas Highway 25 out in the middle of nowhere, we make a very short detour east as I see a capital specimen of a grain silo with an invitation to drop into the El Ranchito Mexican Cafe.

Jutta Engelhardt and John Wise in Moscow, Kansas

Caroline and I passed through here on our very first cross-country trip just five years before this.

Jutta Engelhardt at the Oklahoma Stateline

In keeping with the souvenir hunt of photos of my mother-in-law in front of as many Stateline signs as I can capture, I present Jutta Engelhardt visiting Oklahoma.

Jutta Engelhardt driving in Oklahoma with John Wise

The look on my face is explained by the fact that this is the first time Jutta has driven a car in more than 20 years. After some practice, I let her drive all the way across the panhandle of Oklahoma from the Kansas border to Texas. Aside from my hamming it up for the camera, my mother-in-law just loved this opportunity.

Jutta Engelhardt at the Texas Stateline

Back on terra firma, Jutta had to touch something solid and unmoving: Hello, Texas.

John Wise in Dumas, Texas

This selfie was taken for Caroline because while some might pronounce this in the French style as “Doo-maa,” Texas pronounces it “Dew-mus,” and of course, I go for “Dumb-ass.”

Jutta Engelhardt and a turtle in Texas

Saving turtles in Texas, as that’s what one does when barreling down the highway. Next stop: still somewhere in Texas because it’s a really big state.

Nebraska The Good Life – Day 2

Jutta Engelhardt and John Wise at the Wyoming Stateline

Disclaimer: This post was updated in November 2022, as the original only included 1 photo. The bigger details were written back then, although a few things needed to be figured out.

After our night in Longmont, Colorado, Jutta and I got on Interstate 25 as we had many miles to cover today and, while we could have stayed in Wyoming until we reached our ultimate destination, why not dip into another state for bragging rights about how many of these American states could be visited in a quick 5-day mother-in-law/son-in-law road trip.

In front of the Welcome to Nebraska State sign celebrating the Good Life with Jutta Engelhardt

Out of Wyoming and into Nebraska. While this is one of my favorite photos, as I never in my wildest dreams thought I’d get her to “dance …the good life,” there’s one coming tomorrow that will forever stay with me.

On the road in Nebraska

Ah, the Great Plains looking great.

On the road in Nebraska

What, there are trees out here?

Jutta Engelhardt and John Wise at Agate Fossil Beds National Monument in Harrison, Nebraska

I don’t know what face of excitement Jutta has on, but mine was about bringing a fossil to the Agate Fossil Beds in Harrison, Nebraska.

The Lakota Winter Count at the James H. Cook exhibit Agate Fossil Beds in Nebraska

This is the Lakota Winter Count at the James H. Cook exhibit here at the National Monument.

Fort Robinson State Park near Crawford, Nebraska

Still traveling north, we stopped in for a brief visit at the Fort Robinson State Park near Crawford, Nebraska.

Big horn steer in Nebraska

Are you lost? I thought these belonged in Texas.

Jutta Engelhardt at the South Dakota Stateline

Hmm, Great Faces, Great Places. Could this be a clue about our destination on this roughly 2,500-mile roundtrip?

Old farm tools roadside in South Dakota

I seem to have a fascination with old farm tools, broken-down homes, and stupidly long and brutal drives as far away as I can go.

Jutta Engelhardt at Wind Cave National Park in South Dakota

We have time to pass through the Wind Cave National Park but no time to stop; plus, Caroline should be along for the first visit to a national park we’ve not yet been to.

Prairie Dog at Wind Cave National Park in South Dakota

Ooh, wildlife and Wind Cave.

Bison at Custer State Park in South Dakota

Nope, this is not at Wind Cave National Park; we are now driving through Custer State Park with these bison following us. Just kidding.

Custer State Park in South Dakota

I just love these roads through Custer State Park.

Custer State Park in South Dakota

Enchanting is how one should describe the corkscrew turns and old wood bridges that pass through.

Mount Rushmore in South Dakota

I don’t believe anyone needs to be told that this is Mount Rushmore. Well, my mother-in-law has now seen it with her own eyes.

God rays in South Dakota

Time to head south as we have a long drive home that will likely involve some detours.

Longhorn Saloon in Scenic, South Dakota

Check out the inebriated celebrants in front of the Longhorn Saloon that closed about five years after we drove through.

Jutta Engelhardt at the Nebraska Stateline

No dancing late in the day, huh?

Labor Day 2004 – Day 3

Carhenge at daybreak in Alliance, Nebraska

When it’s not even 6:00 a.m. yet, you visit Carhenge in the dark because it’s not really light out yet. I try to tell myself that being early is allowing me to capture these silhouettes instead of the cars in full daylight, like normal people.

North of Carhenge on Highway 87 in Nebraska

These Nebraskans must be related to the people of Alabama, as who else erects rest areas like this? Well, when you gotta go, you just grab your German news magazine, climb the hay bail, and perch like nobody’s watching.

Caroline Wise entering South Dakota on SD-407 near White Clay, Nebraska

We just passed through Whiteclay, Nebraska, to get into a cold South Dakota and hope we never have to pass this way again. Next up was Pine Ridge, South Dakota, which I suppose is a kind of capital city of the Pine Ridge Reservation and home to the Oglala Lakota Indians. In Lakota, the reservation is known as Wazí Aháŋhaŋ Oyáŋke.

On the Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota - Site of the Massacre of Wounded Knee

This is not the place to be on a gray, cold, and wet day as the place is already embued with tragedy as it was here that American soldiers killed nearly 300 Lakota, about half of whom were women and children. They were buried in a mass grave by American troops looming over them as conquering heroes, with more than a few being awarded medals for their efforts. It doesn’t matter that this was 114 years ago as I try to imagine how the survivors feel knowing my ancestors tried to extinct the bison and them after stealing their lands. If it were me, I’d probably have a chip on my shoulder.

For those who want to relegate this to ancient history, consider that Black Elk, born Heȟáka Sápa in 1863, didn’t die until 1950 or 4 years after Bill Clinton was born. Black Elk was a witness to the massacre when he was 27 years old, so we can be certain it was an image that stayed with him his entire life. He was also the second cousin to Crazy Horse, which is the monument that is the focus of our ultimate destination on this trip into the Great Plains.

Caroline Wise and John Wise at Badlands National Park in South Dakota

The gloom is a kind of poetic wrapper for the gravity of what these lands represent, but we didn’t come up here to be depressed or feel bad. No, we came to Badlands to witness nature and to arrive wearing smiles to add some brightness to the day.

Badlands National Park in South Dakota

Doesn’t look good for taking a trail into the badlands of Badlands. Maybe the rain will stop and quickly run off so we can see more of this national park by walking over it instead of from our car windows.

Longhorn Saloon in Scenic, South Dakota

Scenic, South Dakota, is home to the Longhorn Saloon that, while closed now, apparently allowed Lakota Indians in its establishment when it was still in business. From the zombie population of alcoholics in Whiteclay and a massacre at Wounded Knee Creek to reminders of our segregationist past, I’m not all that certain. I’m enjoying our visit to South Dakota this time.

Badlands National Park in South Dakota

There’s much to learn out here at Badlands but we don’t have access to any information about the land. While this looks like the banded layers of ash from volcanic discharge that fell on the area of Petrified Forest in Arizona, we don’t really know if this is the same process. It is pretty, though, even in the foul weather.

Badlands National Park in South Dakota

Yes, we want to explore below. No, we don’t want to do so in the mud.

Badlands National Park in South Dakota

Leaving the White River Valley Overlook in the previous photo, we are on our way out of the park and stop one last time before giving up all hope of the clouds parting and the sun popping out.

Wall Drug in Wall, South Dakota

Hmm, I’d heard of this famous stop on the road; we’ll have to check it out.

Caroline Wise at Wall Drug in Wall, South Dakota

Stepping back in time is a major theme of exploring America. What happened to those days of moving into the future? Wall Drug was mostly worth the visit, but it’s showing its age, making me wonder how many more years will it be able to hold on as an attraction that is likely more appealing to older Americans needing that nostalgic sense of another time and age.

Mount Rushmore in Keystone, South Dakota

Mount Rushmore offers up some side-boob (no offense meant) as we do a drive-by. To gather a glimpse was enough as we weren’t in the mood for crowds, and it wasn’t all that long ago that we were here for a more extensive visit.

Crazy Horse Monument in South Dakota

The Crazy Horse Monument is what we really wanted to see until we got here and realized it was not something we needed to see. At least the sky is clearing. My feelings about the tragedy of everything out here are muddying my ability to enjoy myself. Maybe I’m just tired?

No, I’m just disappointed in all of this. Even Mount Rushmore was carved out of mountains known as the Black Hills, which were sacred to the Lakota Sioux. The man who created the monument was Gutzon Borglum, who was a white supremacist noted for referring to non-whites as the “mongrel horde.”  Then this monument to Crazy Horse feels like a cheap commercial grab where money and selling trinkets are the only thing being celebrated instead of offering something that should have the same respect of a church, but then again, the Lakota will never get government sponsorship to build a monument to someone it hated at one time.

Caroline Wise and John Wise entering Wyoming west of Custer, South Dakota

That flap of hair from Caroline that I’m wearing makes my head look stranger than normal; as a matter of fact, maybe it makes me look fatter. Nah, I’m just fat, and Caroline is not tall, but the sky is blue, and we are in Wyoming, moving south again.

On WY-450 west of Newcastle, Wyoming

We passed through Newcastle, Wyoming, shortly after entering the state and took a note to learn who Anna Miller was. Turns out she was the wife of a sheriff who was the last person killed in the area during the Indian Wars, so instead of celebrating the brave countrymen defending their ancestral lands, we honor the marauding intruder and his wife by naming a museum after them. I need to hit the gas and escape our twisted history.

Near the Black Thunder Coal Mine off WY-450 east of Wright, Wyoming

We are on the edge of the Black Thunder Coal Mine, one of the largest, if not the largest, coal producers on earth. How appropriate it seems that the black heart of the region is an open festering sore contributing to the fouling of our environment. My cynicism is not the best quality I know, but it seems to be all I have today.

WY-387 direction Caspar, Wyoming

Trying to chill in the beauty of things and be appreciative that we are able to see and feel.

Sunset approaching Caspar, Wyoming

We are passing through Casper, Wyoming, here at sunset, driving in the direction of Medicine Bow. Along the way, we are listening to someone reading from the book The Hiding Place about Corrie ten Boom and her ordeal as a prisoner in the women’s concentration camp known as Ravensbrück after helping Jews hide from Nazis.

It’s 10:00 p.m. when we pull into Riverside, Wyoming, to spend the night at the Bear Trap Bar & Cabins.

Labor Day 2004 – Day 2

Sunrise in New Mexico

Saturday and the clock is ticking, so we are up before the sun and already on the road at 6:00 a.m. We don’t get far before we stop for gas at only $1.89 a gallon, fresh ice for the ice chest as we are traveling with food in the back seat in order to save time needing to eat at restaurants, and we got a coffee. Hey, wait a minute, didn’t I just say yesterday that we don’t drink gas station coffee? Sometimes beggars can’t be choosers, and knowing that on the roads we’re taking today, there’s not a chance of coming across anything better, we opt for something resembling coffee as we desperately need it after our brief five-and-a-half hours of sleep.

Montoya, New Mexico on old Route 66

We’re more than 90 minutes further east in our journey when it occurs to us that the sections of Route 66 that are still out here may not always be so and that we should use this opportunity to check out the sights. This was part of the old town called Montoya in New Mexico.

Old Route 66 near Montoya, New Mexico

Old Route 66 is being consumed by nature, and many of its remaining stretches don’t even look this well preserved. A few plants didn’t stop our exploration, but at some point, things got too narrow, dictating we turn around. A single bemused horse watches what must be some kind of routine as we tourists can go no further.

Ira's Bar in Nara Visa, New Mexico

If you are traveling New Mexico Road 54, you’ll reach Nara Visa right before the Texas border, but Texas is not part of our travel plans, so here in this town that is mostly occupied by ghosts, we turn north onto the 402 along the eastern border of New Mexico.

Caroline Wise and Tortoise on NM-402 near Amistad, New Mexico

Don’t be a douchebag and run over tortoises for your twisted blood sport; yeah, I’m talking to you pickup drivers who seem to aim for wildlife crossing America’s country roads. Instead, get out of your vehicle and help the creature across; it might help your ruined karma.

Clayton, New Mexico

Further up the road from Amistad, where we had the tortoise encounter, we are stopping in Clayton, New Mexico, to fill up on gas, get another cup of coffee, and indulge in an energizing ice cream sandwich.

NM-406 near Seneca, New Mexico

Should anyone else wonder what is to be found in Seneca, New Mexico, not to be confused with Seneca the Younger, this is about it. Maybe a certain amount of personal tragedy would play out if this were home, as besides some rough-hewn farming there doesn’t appear much else to do for those stoic enough to hammer out a living on this anvil.

Caroline Wise and John Wise on OK-325 heading toward Kenton, Oklahoma

It’s not even lunchtime as we enter Oklahoma. The first time we passed through this state was over by Kerrick so today had to be somewhere else, anywhere else other than that. Not that Kerrick was somehow bad, boring, or otherwise undesirable, but we have this thing of trying new roads as frequently as possible, so here we are out on one of the four western Oklahoma state lines.

Kenton, Oklahoma

Note from November 2023: I’m reviewing blog posts with the oldest dates, and when I got to this post, this image from Kenton, Oklahoma, had no text. I’m aghast that I could have made this oversight while my editor (Caroline) failed to let me know to add something or other here. Well, here I am, good at casting blame but poor in offering context, so it goes.

OK-325 west of Boise City, Oklahoma

It must have been prairie gas or some other deliriant that caused us to miss our road north as we blew right by it and are now going south toward Boise City, Oklahoma. Lucky us that the space looks bigger than the reality of what it is and we are only about 15 miles off-track.

Caroline Wise and John Wise on US-385 south of Campo, Colorado

Home of the Rockies and the Mile-High City of Denver, the San Juan Mountains, and the Durango steam train that brings visitors to Silverton. And then there’s the eastern side of the state.

US-385 north in Colorado

Welcome to the Great Plains, where this side of Colorado is as flat as a board, but at least there’s one tree.

US-385 north in Colorado

Caroline claims to have seen a tumbleweed, but I see nothing and just keep driving.

US-385 north in Colorado

Time stopped for this car, this barn, that home. The weather comes and goes, as do the grasses and trees, but people abandoned hope that this would be the place of their dreams and are no longer tending to their futures. These are our time capsules of another point in our history.

Caroline Wise off the US-385 north in Colorado

The first things that come to mind in Eastern Colorado are not head-sized sunflowers. At the moment, they and Caroline’s smile are the brightest things out here.

US-385 heading north in Nebraska

Somewhere between the fields, we crossed into Nebraska and an endless sea of corn.

Caroline Wise in the North Platte River in Nebraska

Thirty minutes after entering Nebraska, we are crossing the North Platte River. It’s late in the setting sun’s routine of disappearance, but that doesn’t stop Caroline from scrambling down the hill to stand in a shallow braid of the river. This is the first time ever that my wife has stood in a river in Nebraska, and hopefully not the last.

For orientation purposes, we crossed from Julesburg, Colorado, into Nebraska, where the 11 became the 27 on our way to Oshkosh and further north to Alliance, where we had to call it quits due to fatigue. Dinner was at the Wonderful Kitchen Chinese Restaurant; that’s how tired we were. Our motel was the Rainbow Lodge. Neither place was great, but how amazing is it to end your day with ideas of rainbows and the things that are wonderful?