Moorcroft, Wyoming emerged out of the black just as my desperate quest to find a place to sleep birthed the recollection of Peter Fonda’s movie Race With The Devil.  My adamancy to never own an RV is derived solely from the impact this movie made on my pre-teen brain.

I’m still searching for a place to safely catch some ZZZ’s because according to the map, Devils Tower is “nearby”. If you should decide to see Devils Tower, take a peek at the map of Wyoming, realize there’s only 400,000 people in the entirety of the square vastness and don’t make the same assumption about lodging I did. And don’t worry about the movie and the whole Devils Tower thing; it was filmed in South Texas.

Beautiful until you think about those poor schmucks in the RV.

The Cozy Motel’s sign was half lit but the gravel parking area was packed with good ole boy pickup trucks - a sight that put me at ease. At least if some creepy-motel-located-in-the-middle-of-nowhere-Jason-scene occurred, my screams would be heard.

I walked into the “office”, rang the bell and an older lady and a boy about 5 came out of a back room (they’ve recently become fodder in my novel plotting mind). “Looks like you’re busy tonight, do you have a room?” “Got one left,,,,,,, railroaders”. To which I didn’t bother replying as I didn’t feel any reply required. But the humorous thought, “railroad convention?” ran through my mind. “We only take cash. The room is $40″. Not a problem. My husband had threatened my future solo road trip privileges if I went below $200 cash at any point of the trip. I had been compliant and pulled out the cash. “You’re in number 11 on the end. We only got 11 rooms. The railroaders don’t like number 11.”

The boy’s face had been marble the whole while but I was certain some reaction to the woman’s statement had caused something to twitch. Did his upper lip move or was it some shift in those shifty little eyes? I checked up just as I opened my mouth to ask why. Too late. Again my imagination was off like horses out the gate of the Kentucky Derby.

The Cozy Motel at sunrise the next day. See the "No" vacancy? I had indeed taken the last room the night before.

I pulled the truck over to number 11 and began unloading. I’d just walked through the door and dropped the first of my loads of crap that I faithfully hauled out of the truck every night, when a train went by. Thunder, whistle, thunder, whistle, shhchhshhchh on the tracks. I laughed out loud and ran back outside to see it swishing by on the track parallel to the motel, close enough to touch. Okay, well, not close enough to touch, but close enough. I hadn’t crossed the track since it ran parallel - stay with me here, and since it was pitch black, I hadn’t seen it. The resting railroaders didn’t like ole number 11 because it was the closest room to the track!

By the time the 3rd train came by the unloading was complete. I called my husband howling laughter at the 4th train passing, holding the phone up so he could hear the whistle. He predicted a total of 6 trains for the evening and I went to shower. I counted 2 while in the shower and over the course of the rest of the restless night, 10 of them jingled my weird and wacky dreams. I was up and out of there just before sunrise and had a fantastic day despite the lingering lack-of-sleep dreams. Devils Tower was stunning in the morning light.

Devils Tower National Monument, Wyoming.

Before you read on, I must add the Cozy Motel is one of the reasons I love seeing what lies in-between the sterile and stamped out larger cities and towns on the American map. Motels are still worthy considerations for lodging if you want an experience. Then again, I have nothing against the knowns the chains offer. I stay at both.

Post Script from Journal: “Other than the trains, the room has been my favorite; the extremely low cost of course being a factor along with the story worthiness of my experience here. In addition to that the room was large as there was only one bed and the tiny bathroom was all white and brand new, and the carpet was clean. The railroaders were a quiet bunch; most of them were gone when I walked out to the truck at sunrise. The heat didn’t work well but after a sprint to the truck in the middle of the night for my emergency quilt, that problem was solved. It was 14 degrees this morning.  Ahhhh…. WYOMING.”

Road Trip Locator: Devils Tower is in Northeastern Wyoming between Gillette and Sundance, approximately 35 miles North of Interstate 90 (from Moorcroft which is where you’ll exit and turn North of I-90).

Tumbleweeds the size of boulders streak past in all directions causing me to involuntarily close my eyes and make darts to the left or right behind the safety of the windshield. One sticks on the hood ornament and I lurch back with enough force to strike the head rest and then bounce back to an upright position. My motions would appear silly to anyone watching, but there isn’t anyone. I’m lost.

Travel writers and guides never fail to recommend getting lost in such places as Marrakesh or Seville. All those twisty narrow lanes of mystery lead to experiences that fully engage the senses. Maybe not always gently; sometimes “onslaught” is a more accurate description. Onslaught or not, a memory is etched. THAT is the essence of travel.

Getting lost gives the experience an “edge”, an emotional jump start. And road trip travel in places like Kansas is no different. Really. Those twisty narrow lanes of mystery in places with exotic names have nothing on what you can stumble across in Kansas.

The first time through Mullinville was a mistake.  If you read that sentence carefully, it’ll tell you that a second time was on purpose because the first trip was rewarding enough to go back.

Careful of my speed limit through the small town, I’d just begun picking up speed when I see this:

“What the?!” The wind is doing its best to alter the footing of the 5,000 lb. Yukon as I pull off the road. The sun is full-on but the barren landscape broken by the freaky signs, the desperate squeak of whirling buckets suspended as high into the Kansas atmosphere as the strength of a metal pole will support, the flags flapping out of unison, all screechingly collide into one perfectly produced Twilight Zone scene.

It’s October so I pull on a jacket before picking up camera gear, zip it completely (I’ve learned a few things about Kansas wind), and get jerked out of the truck onto my side because I’ve learned a lot about jackets and Kansas wind, but I’m still learning about the wind powering open a truck door. I don’t bother looking around. There’s no one to have seen me.

After gawking for sometime and taking in all the symbolism and dark humor, I begin taking photographs. A local barrels by on the highway and honks (he obviously knows the local law enforcement). His intrusion confirms I’ve not really landed in a Twilight Zone episode.

One year later…

There will be a 3rd trip. I still don’t have the shot I really want. Maybe a Fisheye?

Want to see all this for yourself? Head west on 54/400 out of Wichita, through Pratt. Mullinville is 41 miles west of Pratt, 120 miles west of Wichita.

The Black & White photo taken during my March 2009 solo road trip, didn’t place in the Top 3 of the public voting (as you can imagine, the competition was top-notch). I’ve known about this for several days and while slightly disappointed, was grateful and humbled to have been given the Top 10 nod by the professional judges who sorted through the thousands of submissions.

Having moved on to other projects, like writing, the contest was behind me. Until today. John Batdorff, a professional photographer with whom I’ve recently connected alerted me to the fact the 10 Finalists were posted on the USA Today website, with comments from the three professional judges [who initially narrowed the submissions down to the Top 10.]

My consolation for not having garnered enough public support for a top 3 finish are these comments from the judges:

“Finalist: Walkway to the West in the American High Plains by Tammie Dooley of Tulsa, Okla. The judges, who would have picked this as the second-place winner, were struck by its “great mood - stormy, majestic, dramatic - emphasized by the drama of black and white. It draws you in and pushes you away at the same time, challenging you intellectually.” The found it emblematic of the high plains and prairies so unique to the American landscape. “The whole middle of the country is represented here,” they said.”

Good enough for me!

The photo is a winner thanks to all of your comments, encouragement, support and for slogging through the not-so-user-friendly USAToday website to log votes.

**Thank you for your votes and kind words! And congratulations to the winners!!  The Top 3 photos are stunning and deserve the win.**

P.S. abcnews.com has asked for permission to reprint the photo (as a member of the 10 Finalists).  Will keep you posted!! Nothing like getting a lot of mileage from one click of the shutter. LOL

Walkway to the West - The American High Plains

With July 4th right around the corner, this post was begging for a re-run. They do it on TV all the time.

The grandeur of granite rising from the cliffs of Mt. Rushmore will in one upward glance sweep away any countryman’s negative sentiments. And impress the hell out of everyone else.  Mt. Rushmore is but one impressive sight however among many packed into the Southwestern corner of South Dakota.

Air Force One over Mt. Rushmore. Wikimedia Commons.

From my SRT in 2007.

Overview

Anchored by Rapid City (airport code RAP), the Black Hills area still echoes with the report of Wild West Colt pistols. You can wander through Native American Indian Reservations as you contemplate what to take in first — the sights of Mt. Rushmore featured on the big screen in National Treasure: Book of Secrets, the cavernous limestone formations of Badlands National Park, Sturgis or the frontier town of Deadwood. Throw in the Crazy Horse Memorial, Custer State Park, Wind Cave National Park, the 1880 Train, Buffalo Gap National Grassland, the Geographic Center of the U.S., or the Minuteman Missile National Historic Site, and a week’s vacation can be easily spent in one of the most scenic and pivotally historic areas of the lower 48 states. And that’s before you even cross into Wyoming. Forget the guidebook, you’ll need only your Atlas and a penchant for discovery.

Badlands National Park, SRT 2009

The Route: starting in Rapid City

Interstate 90 East of Rapid City will deliver you to Wall, South Dakota. If you’re already parched or ready for a stop, the Wall Drug Store offers refreshment, take in the National Grasslands Visitor Center, or search for the Minuteman Missile Silo.  From there 240 South will take you directly to the scenic drive around the North Unit of Badlands National Park. The loop ends at Interior. To continue into the South Unit’s 2.7 million acres of sprawling erosion of the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation, proceed past Imlay to Scenic, turning South at the first/only turnoff. You’ll need to stop at the White River Visitor Center to get permission to proceed into the Reservation. West on Highway 2, then North on Highway 40 to Redshirt will complete the South Unit. “Highway” 2 is a misnomer. The road is gravel, albeit wide and well maintained. Continuing past Redshirt on Highway 40 to Hermosa presents the choice of turning North on Highway 79 and back to Rapid City, or west on Highway 36 to 87 South to Custer State Park and Wind Cave National Park. From Wind Cave National Park you can easily hit 385 North taking you to Custer, the Crazy Horse Memorial, Mt. Rushmore, and the ‘1880 Train’ in Hill, as you progress northward.

Scenic, SD. SRT in 2009.

Native American Burial Platform -- South of Redshirt on Highway 40. SRT 2009.

The area is deceptively compact.  While distances aren’t great between any point (from Rapid City to Hot Springs on 79 is only 57 miles) you will not desire to cover any of it quickly.  And the twists and turns of the roads preclude speed.  While limited lodging is available in the smaller towns and in Badlands National Park, the high season summer months make day trips to and from your pre-reserved lodging in centrally located Rapid City conducive to combing the area.

Deadwood

Once you’ve exhausted the sights south of Rapid City, 385 will take you to Lead (as in lead a horse to water), Deadwood, the Geographic Center of the U.S. in Belle Fourche, and Sturgis to the East just off Highway 90.  Either of these towns is worthy of securing lodging if you’re ready to venture past the Rapid City anchor.  Summer is high season though and Sturgis along with towns in the area are choked with bikers for the annual Bike Week Rally usually the first week in August.

Deadwood is a personal favorite. Wild Bill and Calamity Jane are buried in the Mt. Moriah cemetery. Saloon 10 is where Wild Bill made famous the Dead Man’s poker hand of Aces & Eights when shot from behind by Jack McCall (hanged for his crime). The town, while a haven for gambling is replete with history and the nostalgic charm of false storefronts.

Deadwood, SD. 2009 SRT.

Regarding FOOD, if you’ve got a nose for chocolate on the road, stop by The Chubby Chipmunk for a fix.  For lunch, try the Deadwood Thymes Bistro. The last time there I had the White Bean & Chicken Chili, a Three-Cheese grilled sandwich with bell peppers and a slice of apple all melted together between perfectly browned, thick sliced bread, and a large, cold, creamy slab of their Peanut Butter & Chocolate Pie.  I was hungry; the meal memorable. I’d like a repeat, please.  For dinner I sat one night on a perch over downtown Deadwood in the 2nd story location of Kevin Costner’s Sports Bar & Grill (above the Midnight Star casino on Main Street).  While I don’t recall the food in the same longing manner as the lunch from Deadood Thymes Bistro, I do fondly remember the view and the numerous photos/posters of Kevin Costner in his Western movie roles.

A Wyoming Detour

Since you’re on the border and you could add another state-notch to your holster belt, or you’ve got another day or two to burn, why not venture into Wyoming? Devil’s Tower National Monument is a quick drive and well worth the time. Take Highway 90 to Sundance, Wyoming. From there head north on 14 for a few miles. Or if you’re sticking to the backroads, Highway 34 west out of Belle Fourche (turns into 24 at the Wyoming border) will get you there as well.  Should you venturing here during the off-season, don’t count on lodging nearby. There IS lodging, but…

Devil's Tower National Monument, Wyoming. High ISO FILM. See the moon?!

President Theodore Roosevelt Proclaimed Devil’s Tower the first National Monument in 1906. Many Plains Indians have legends associated with “Bear’s Lodge” and consider it a sacred site. The Kiowas legend goes like this: Kiowas were camped by a stream where there were lots of bears. Seven little girls were playing away from their village and bears took chase. The girls ran and just as the bears were about to catch them, they jumped on a low rock. One of the girls began to pray. The rock began to push itself out of the ground raising the children higher and higher. The deep grooves running down the sides are said to be made by the bears attempting to claw their way to the top. The rock continued to push the children upward into the sky so far they reside in the sky today as the pleiades star cluster.

This Great American Drive will compel you to sing the Stars & Stripes and purchase a long, black duster.  Be prepared.

WARNING LABEL: If you decide to venture out of Belle Fourche to locate the original Geographic Center of the U.S. or anywhere in the above discussed areas, BEWARE of Rattlesnakes.

North Dakota’s Enchanted Highway is 32 miles of soaring, metal art sculpture that qualify as some of the largest in the world. They are as unusual as they are enjoyable, qualifying unequivocally as must-see Americana Road Art. But the highway isn’t about the objects at all. North Dakota’s Enchanted Highway is about a MAN and his singular vision.

"Deer Crossing". The buck is 75-feet tall and 60-feet long. Erected in 2002. Made from old oil well tanks cut apart and welded to form the shadow design. To fit through the streets of Regent, the buck's front leg had to be cut off and re-welded on-site.

Small town characters/sometime heroes are sometimes an odd lot. My husband and I swap stories about the characters from our respective small towns - his in West Virginia, mine in SE Oklahoma. Those characters, as we call them, were a bit different, marched to the beat of a not-so-audible drum, hardworking, kind, and talkative. In a small town these individuals are part of the community’s colorful tapestry. They are a clean stamped part of the puzzle, fitting in while not being forced to lose their identity. And while this is commendable of small towns, they are at the same time frequently guilty of speaking from both sides of their mouth. On the intake they can welcome uniqueness with invitations to “come here” while on the exhale uttering whispers of displeasure and not-so-silent “get aways.”

Gary Greff is a small town character. I only hesitate to say “hero” as I feel I don’t know enough of the story. However if you judge such things based not on the outcome but intent and the effort expended, then Gary qualifies. Near 60, Gary hails from a small town to which he was never able to break the tether (Regent, ND), lives below the poverty line but is tenaciously steeped in hope for his own life and for the survival of his hometown, and has spent the past 20 years fighting for a vision of betterment for his community. His young life in Regent was re-directed by tragedy. At 16, driving a motorbike with his 15 year old brother on back, Gary hit a curb in town. His brother died at the scene. People’s lives are shaped by such.

After teaching school in various communities, at age 40 Gary moved back to Regent led by a vision to do something to curtail the demise of his hometown. He’d never pursued art of any kind. He couldn’t weld. And yet the sculpture below made it into The Guinness Book of World Records as the World’s Largest Metal Art Sculpture. It’s 110 feet tall, 154 feet long and weighs 79 tons. And photographs like any beautiful piece of art.

Geese in Flight

"Tin Family". The man is 45-feet tall; the woman 43-feet tall; and the boy 23-feet tall.

"Teddy Roosevelt Rides Again". 51-feet tall. A tribute to President Theodore Roosevelt's part in North Dakota history. Built from used oil well pipe.

"Fisherman's Dream" (my personal favorite).

"Pheasants in the Prairie". Rooster is 70 ft. long, 40 ft. tall. Made of wire mesh that was originally used for screening gravel. Long process -- took 3 years -- the wire was heated and bent to form the bodies.

"Grasshopper's Delight". 60 Feet long, 40 Feet tall. A reminder of the hardships farmers have overcome making their living off the land. Welded from old fuel tanks and oil well tanks.

Gary Greff between 1989 and 2006 did all of this. And he did it amid harsh criticism, ridicule, accusations of insanity, the scorn of fellow townsfolk, one rebuff after another, and over time a severely curtailed financial and volunteer donor list. His brother Brad said, “people walked across the street to avoid him”. He did, what no other townsperson in Regent, ND has been able to do - he drew people to the area. And continues to.

Gary’s art didn’t save Regent in the way he’d envisioned. The High School closed. The town appeared to me to be a rural American small town clutching survival when I saw it in March 2009. Gary’s dream for an Enchanted Highway Theme Park and droves of tourists dropping their money in Regent hasn’t materialized. But his vision, hard work and undying commitment left a commendable and very memorable mark. Gary Greff is the best kind of dreamer - he takes action.

To see the Enchanted Highway and Gary Greff’s art, take Exit 72 (about 20 miles east of Dickinson, ND) off of I-94. The Highway runs due south from there and ends in Regent.  There is no charge so if you see a contribution box, leave some currency behind.

“No one, I discover, begins to know the real geographic, democratic, indissoluble American Union in the present, or suspect it in the future, until he explores these Central States, and dwells awhile on their prairies or amid their busy towns.” – Walt Whitman

Heartland Chronicles is a series of radio documentaries set in and around Middle America, exploring the region’s people and communities. A concentrated focus on this region allows us to draw what author William Least Heat Moon refers to as a “deep map” – a careful, long-term exploration of place that reveals the truth of everyday life today. Here’s the 2005 interview with Gary Greff (the MP3 choice seems to work best).