Travails of The Big Cashew

For those of you who were familiar with my annual Christmas letter, this Blog idea of mine will make those monuments to boredom seem like Pulitzer prize material. As you continue to read, you will experience a numbness that few humans have and still survived. Such is this Blog which will chronicle my trip to Mt Rushmore, the Badlands and the Rocky Mts.

On Wednesday I flew out to Denver. Of course, we had to leave Philly first but they did not want us to go, placing a hold on your plane while some mysterious storms blocked our route. After an hour wait, we finally slipped the shackles of PA. The flight was unremarkable, much like these writings of mine, but we did land in a torrential rainstorm. Since I had a 100 mile drive to get to the hotel in Cheyenne, this was to be a fun ride. Picking up the car at Hertz, I was processed quickly and sent out to load the baggage and go. Well, I loaded the baggage, but I was not going anywhere. The car had no key! There was a push button where the key should go, so I pushed it. Nothing happened. I did this a couple of times, just to be sure, and the engine stayed dead as a doornail. I finally had to skulk back to the counter and state that I was technically challenged and needed someone to show me how to start the friggin car.

Once I received the highly intricate directions (Step on the brake as you push in the button) i was on my way. With the rain, fog and the fact that I was dog tired, it was an accomplishment that I cut off only a couple of other drivers as i meandered between lanes while fighting with the radio. But I got the Cheyenne and was able to log about 5 hours of sleep.

Now it is Thursday. I have 300 miles to go to Rapid City. And the rain is still falling. I have a tee time at 1:30 and the rain, fog and wind is making Mt Washington in New Hampshire look tropical. It rained basically the entire way. So much for my plans of channeling Nicklaus, Hogan and Snead. Time to rework the itinerary. So it is off to Deadwood.

One or a couple comments on Wyoming. It is green/brown, brown brown and at time black. It is all prairie lands, wide open spaces and a good number of moguls everywhere. It was not boring to drive through, but it was so different than back east. Also, you do not measure the population by the number of people per square mile. You need to determine the number of square miles per person. There is no one anywhere along the road. Just an occasionally ranch that is like a mile of more from the highway. Where do these people go to school or shop for food? They must be self sufficient and loners.

Deadwood is famous, so to speak for being the town where Wild Bill Hickok was shot and killed in a poker game. He is also buried there, along with Calamity Jane. They are buried in Boot Hill. So now you know everything about Deadwood. This pictures are of the town, my bud Bill and CJ! I am still trying to figure things out with this blog so they should not be in the beginning of my diatribe, but that's me. Mail street is less than a mile long, but just about every building has a casino in it. More slots then anything, but they must do a good business, as there were people in all of them. I spent about 45 minutes and was on my way.

Tomorrow is the Badlands. I know you are just holding your breath with what i have to say on that topic.

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