DAY 18: May 9th, SD-WY-CO

Woke up having slept quite well, but also much colder than I've ever woken up to. I apologize for the repeated references to my being cold, but I've come to find that this is a major factor in car camping in spring in places that are not California. This morning was the most brutally cold--my cocoon of warmth sleeping arrangement was no match for the thick layer of frost that had built up on all my windows. I'm pretty sure it snowed last night. When I turned on the car the outside temp read 31 degrees and I finally felt validated for being so freezing.

First stop before hitting the road: A tiny little bakery on Hot Springs' main road. (also may have been the only business in town open, so the choice was easy). I'm pretty sure I walked through time warp when I came through the door because I walked straight into a bible study group of miners from 1909. Really. It was maybe 6:30am and these guys were sitting around in their dirty overalls with beards that reached below the table discussing (no, arguing) biblical passages. I wondered what they possibly could have been up to before 6:30 at their age that could have gotten them so dirty. Their discussion then turned to robbing banks, although I'm pretty sure this was a metaphor for something else that just went straight over my head. Or not?

Bakery selection in South Dakota is much like the healthy breakfasts of Wyoming: 24 different kinds of doughnuts. Really. I was kind of hoping for a muffin, or maybe a croissant, but my choices were limited to chocolate covered, glazed, long, round, jelly stuffed, sprinkles, or maple glazed. Egh. I also saw one of the miners enjoying a large plate of gravy with two lumps in it (biscuits, perhaps?) Funny that this is 4 doors down from my beloved health store. I ask if they have croissants just for fun, as I don't think I can bring myself to eat the local fare. Luckily, I guess they keep the croissants in the back (I believe it may be because it comes from a costco box). Regardless, I had a cup of coffee and a non-doughnut breakfast for $1.90, so I was happy.

On the road again. (And yes, that song gets stuck in my head every time I think these words.)
Cruise through miles of fields and farms, and decide to listen to local radio. First station I tune to is Native American drums and chanting. An interesting change, so I decide to listen for a bit. Kind of a trip trying to imagine the tribes traveling through here following bison rather than farmers cruising in their pickups. I sort of thought I'd listen for a song or two, but they all kind of melded together and then I felt guilty changing the station, like it would be disrespectful to the culture. So I got stuck listening to drumming and chanting for almost an hour.The exciting drive, above.

Events on the road: lots of antelope. I no longer am so enchanted by an antelope sighting. The first time I saw one in Yellowstone I actually pulled over and took pictures. Now, I silently curse at them to stay where they are, because they think nothing of suddenly leaping into the middle of the road as you approach, as evidenced by lots of antelope piles on the side of the road (or even in the middle of it). Out here, where the speed limit is 75, a collision is an event that would ruin both of our days. Thus, the cursing.

Not much else to say for the 6 hours of driving towards Colorado. At one point, near Cheyenne, I was behind a country music star. I know this because he had his name and the songs he was famous for printed on the windows of his faded blue dodge minivan (e.g. Edgar Halls, Country Music Singer, of "Buffalo Roam" and "Wings of Eagles"). Now that's marketing for you.

I can also say I have made a sigificant contribution to the future improvement of Colorado highways as I got stuck on the toll road for awhile (thanks a lot, GPS. what do you think I am, made of money??) Three toll booths and $7.50 later (more than I've spent on food for the past 3 days), I exit without knowing where I'm going but knowing I there has got to be a way to Parker without emptying my wallet. It just takes ignoring the GPS directions (this sounds like a british woman saying "RECALCULATING. RECALCUALTING. RE-RECALCULATING" over and over).

Late afternoon: Finally reach Parker, Colorado, home of Auntie Kris and Uncle Steve! So happy.