North to Glacier National Park, deep blue lakes and cloud scapes. All the hues and shades of green. We walked around Bowman Lake and saw the winter fur of a white tailed deer left in tufts on the trail. And then across the northern plains to Custer’s Last Stand, to Crazy Horse pointing to tribal lands, when millions of bison roamed the land from California to Florida. Mount Rushmore and four imperfect men who held visions of an America greater than themselves. We got lost going to the Badlands and ended up on a dirt road out on the reservation with open green land and sand covered hills going on forever. We found the Badlands, the wind pulling strong. It didn’t stop until St. Paul.
Stories from near and far
