Sore feet and culture

I’ve blogged about Chicago before.  We love it here and we weren’t disappointed, because it was exactly as vibrant and full of life as we remembered.  As a contrasting finish to our terrific road trip, it’s hard to imagine anywhere better.

Five years later, we found fun in exactly the same kinds of things as we did then.  The sun wasn’t exactly shining, but it was warm and a little humid after a huge thunderstorm last night.

So, in order of activity:

Michigan Avenue where a fridge took our photo (yes, really)

The rehearsal for tomorrow night’s concert in Millennium Park

where the orchestra, soloists and chorus were working on Rossini’s Stabat Mater

The bean – or rather, the Cloud Gate, which never fails to entertain and amuse

The fun fountains

 

Put a little water there and allow children to play in it  and they’ll be happy.

Though some of them, who weren’t even born when we were last here, might need to gather their courage before stepping too near the falling water.

The Art Institute and some of our favourite paintings.

Footsore and weary, we returned to the hotel before a little (huge!) supper at the Rosebud.

A great day in a wonderful city. 

My kinda town

We’ve left the Black Hills and the Badlands behind and moved on.

In two short hours, we went from this

to this.

Our first stop?  Giordano’s Pizza of course.  As always, our eyes were bigger than our tummies though.

Tonight, the lightning flashes are almost continuous and the thunder is rumbling.  Here’s hoping for blue skies tomorrow!

The Badlands

The name conjures up all manner of imagined Wild West landscapes.  A flat, barren and dangerous place where a traveller might feel vulnerable and prone to danger.  Who knows what might be waiting?

Then, we chatted to the hotel manager who enquired about our plans for the day.  When we told her, she raised an eyebrow. “Rattlesnakes”, she said, “be careful of rattlesnakes”.

Hmm.

So it was with a little trepidation that we set out on our adventure today.  We were prepared with water, sunscreen, sunglasses, cameras, maps, hats – and the sack of M&Ms, which seems to be bottomless.

Leaving the suburban streets behind, the countryside opened up and apart from the occasional homestead, there was nothing much to see.  A long road stretched out in front of us and we soon ate up the miles. 

The dusty, rather dull view was not so surprising and we knew that we still had a way to go before we reached our destination, because we would have to enter the National Park.

The road became gritty and the car in front began to throw up little stones.  It looked like they’d been resurfacing here.  We dropped back a little, because we’d already had one damaged windscreen earlier in the trip and we didn’t want another one.  Not here.  In rattlesnake country!

Suddenly, two young women wearing high-viz vests and carrying an umbrella appeared out of nowhere.  One was carrying a “STOP/SLOW” sign and sure enough, the car in front stopped and the driver wound down the window to speak to them.  We stopped and did the same.

The young woman with the umbrella explained that there was “chipping and tarring” going on ahead and handed over a sheet of paper with instructions about how to navigate through the roadworks.  It seemed as though there was a convoy system in place and since we might have to wait fifteen to twenty minutes there, we might like to consider an alternative route.

Errrm?  We were in the middle of nowhere and there was no alternative route!  We’d better sit and wait it out, then.  Oh, and chat to the two young women, one of whom was training to be a nurse, the other was studying radiography.  If either needed any further motivation for their studies, the prospect of having to do a lifetime of this kind of work would be it.

In about twenty minutes we were off again, this time through a landscape of ranches, although the three cattle above were amongst the few we spotted.  Signs by the side of the road warned us that “Prairie Dogs have Plague”.  Oh my.

Soon after, we were passing through the National Park gateway, by the town of Interior, population 76.  We headed straight on for the visitor centre.

There, in front of us, was the real Badlands landscape.  Not flat at all, but fairly low peaks of what looked like dried mud, but which was clearly harder than that.

We hadn’t expected this at all and began our drive along the suggested route thinking that this was way more interesting than we’d feared.

Unfortunately, the chippers and tarrers were working on this road too, which meant that we were in a convoy.  Not only that, but the chips and tar were very loose and the noisy clatter of the stones under the car body was deafening.

Still, there were interesting sights out of the window and today, it wasn’t too hot to leave it open.  Except for the flies…

Soon, there was a wooden walkway to gain access further off the road, so we parked the car and set off to explore.

Bearing the warnings in mind, of course.  We didn’t stray from the wooden path, for sure.

There were some lovely textures in the surface of the earth.

And just in case you think we’re looking at mountains here, I’ll include a photo with someone who wasn’t afraid of snakes in it, just to get the scale.

We stopped at one or two of these walkways, thinking that this landscape wasn’t at all what we imagined and that it was rather like a dried up version of Rotorua in New Zealand.

One place gave a view of the route taken by Chief Big Foot on December 24th in 1890, en route to the Battle of Wounded Knee where he and 200 of his people would be killed.  This is an old, old landscape and when it’s quiet, it’s easy to imagine how these events took place.

Every so often, the land would change in character.  These were referred to as the “yellow mounds” – an apt description, wouldn’t you say?  Great colours in there.

Eventually, we left the Badlands behind and before long, spotted the famous Wall Drug signs by the roadside.  Of course, we had to pay the store a visit, having heard so much about it.

We left with a fly swatter and a box of doughnuts!

Finishing the day as yesterday, with supper in the Firehouse. 

(and a doughnut for pudding later on!)

Take me back…

to the Black Hills, the Black Hills of Dakota!  Or are you too young to remember that song well enough to hum along?

This morning, we were heading for the Black Hills and you know, that could have been us, singing along…

We drove through some fairly flat farmland before turning towards the hills and driving through the most beautiful wooded countryside, taking the Iron Mountain Scenic Route

Who knew South Dakota was as lovely as this?  Oh, and can you see our destination there between the trees?

Before long, those glimpses between the trees opened up and we found a parking spot where we could take proper photographs.  I felt so excited about being here; somewhere I’ve wanted to visit for a very long time and was thrilled to see those figures in the cliff.

Arriving at Mount Rushmore itself, however, we were not only amazed by the huge viewing facility but we were also a little disappointed by the sheer numbers of people who were here.  Somehow, we had simply not imagined that a place in what we’ve thought of as a “remote” state could be so popular!

When we first arrived, we thought that perhaps we ought to have settled for the distant view through the trees, for the peace of the remote spot and the space to look and see this remarkable sight without the company of the world and his wife.

The approach to the viewing platform is via a walkway of flags: 56 of them, representing the states and dependent territories of the USA.  Eventually, the way opens up to a wide viewing area, from where the rockface can be seen perfectly.

Once we were there ourselves, we felt glad we’d come right into the park, that we’d braved the crowds and the noise, because really, this is a fantastic sight.

Of course, the clear blue skies set it off beautifully too, although the temperature was beginning to soar.

In the Visitor Centre, we learned a little of how the original design had been changed, mainly due to the natural faultlines in the rock.  Sadly, the sculptor  Gutzon Borglum, died before it was complete, so apart from the slight hint of George Washington’s lapel, the shoulders of the Presidents aren’t there.

After an ice cream and a mooch in the gift shop for journal bling, we’d had enough.  We returned to the car and drove away, stopping for one very special last look, just around the corner.

A little further along the road, we saw the next great rock sculpture, that of Crazy Horse, who will eventually rival Mount Rushmore in size and spectacle, but who for now, remains mostly at the planning stage.

Our next stop was the small town of Custer,

where not much was happening.  We moved swiftly on.

The Custer State Park was bustling however, particularly at these pinchpoints on the Needles Highway where the road took a narrow and somewhat uncomfortable route through a rock.  The crowd had just dissipated from this one, having cheered as a coach had squeezed through, but with people all over the place – taking photos, climbing rocks and generally standing in the most precarious places, getting through was no picnic.  (Our guidebook tells us that coaches have 2” either side to spare)

The views were splendid, though and we decided we’d continue on these scenic byways by driving the Wildlife Loop, too.

The wildlife was pretty interesting, too, though some of it came a little close for comfort

No carrots in the car, though and we had no intention of sharing our sack of Peanut M&Ms!

From there, it was back to Rapid City.  The thermometer in the car was hovering around 98F and we were getting hungry.

We enjoyed a tasty supper in the brewpub in Rapid City before returning to our hotel.  As we walked back to the car, we noted it was 104F.  No wonder we felt a little warm!

The Golden Spike

I’ve known about the Golden Spike almost as long as I’ve known my hero.  That we were just a few (well, 90) miles away from that legendary place, coupled with the fact that there isn’t a great deal to do in Salt Lake City on a Sunday made a visit a bit of a no brainer.

Perhaps you’re not a railway buff yourself, or married to one?  In that case, stay with me and all will be revealed!

Out in the open countryside, north of the Salt Lake then.  A place where there’s little happening beyond the boundaries of the ATK facility (formerly known as Thiokol).  We noticed broad tracks up on the hillsides as we drove along, saw signposts to ATK but had no idea of what was their business until we asked the question and learned that they make the booster rockets for the Space Shuttle amongst other things (missiles?).  Hmmm.  I suppose those tracks up into the hills were used to transport such things?

Of course, that’s not why we were driving through this part of the state.  We were headed for Promontory Point and another of the wonderful National Park centres.  Another few miles down the road and we pulled into the car park, surprised that on this Sunday morning there were already quite a few people there.

The minute we stepped inside the building, we saw the reason why we were here.  There, just outside and visible through the window, was an old railway locomotive, sitting on the tracks quietly steaming.  A group of people were taking a close look, taking photographs and chatting to a Park Ranger.

As we stood waiting to show Mary’s Golden Pass and collect our tickets, we heard that we were in for a treat, because in just fifteen minutes time, the second locomotive was going to arrive and illustrate the Golden Spike Ceremony. 

Because, this was the place where the Central Pacific Railroad, which was built from California going east, met with the Union Pacific Railroad, built from Omaha going west.  The meeting of the rails, as it were.  The event was of huge significance and was marked by the hammering in of a golden spike, done with great ceremony by Leland Stanford of the Central Pacific.

These days, there is no golden spike, sad to say.  As the Ranger said, even if they fitted a gold coloured one, they’d have to replace it every day because of souvenir hunters.  So, instead, there’s a commemorative sleeper (or “tie” if you’re American) with a plaque.

Anyway, we were happy looking around the “Jupiter”, when the unmistakeable sound of the Union Pacific 119 was heard and we saw it coming from down the line.  Both of these engines are replicas, built in 1975 with attention to the smallest detail to ensure their authenticity.

We were, of course, engulfed in a cloud of black sooty smoke as the 119 went by, revealing our inexperience of being around steam trains.  Never mind, a brisk breeze soon sorted the smuts out!

And there we were, two engines sitting nose to nose, still gently breathing steam and, from a distance, looking remarkably like two model railway engines!  After a few more photographs, we returned to the visitor centre where one of the Rangers gave an excellent presentation about the workers who built the railway.  What a story!

We left Promontory and drove back via Ogden, where we found a bite to eat and a few more locomotives!  Though I’m not especially interested in railway engines, I do find the immensity and the engineering fascinating and I was happy to get up close to these giants and take a few photographs.

To think, one of these engines was powerful enough to pull a train of 7 miles long.  Amazing.

As we went back to the car, I spotted a little mailbox with free walking tour maps of Ogden in it.  I opened the box to take one, but instead, found this.

I’ll leave it to your imagination what the letter said…