Buffalo Gap and Medora

 The Buffalo Gap campground connects with the Theodore Roosevelt National Park with its own trail, the Buffalo Gap Trail. I never took it that far. With a pulled right leg muscle (making the right leg match the left so no limping), I was hurting, so I limited myself to a three mile hike. It would have taken another six miles to get to the main park trails. Still I was able to get into the grasslands and walk between the rain-made wildflower display and the occasional buffalo turds which are sizable.

I took photos of the flowers for Gary to identify when I get back. He's the botanist, not me. A gentian perhaops?

Everywhere there is sage, even at my campsite. The scent flies up with every step I take, reminding of powwows. Sage is lit then, creating the “good smoke” that is healing to the spirit.

There were fences here and there, since the grasslands are leased out to ranchers. The rules are simple: if the gate is open, leave it open, if it's closed make sure to close it when you've passed through.

This is Big Sky country, with cumulus clouds hovering over me. I thought about my mother then. She grew up in Hebron, North Dakota. She told me that when she moved to Wisconsin, all those trees made her claustrophobic. She said she expected people to leap out from behind them. Me, I have the opposite opinion. I was walking through broad grasslands and not a tree to piss behind. Highway 94 was nearby and I was not in the mood to give truckers a display.

Later, I talked to a neighboring camper, a North Dakotan as most of the campers are, and she told me that when she visited her daughter in Massachusetts, she was driven down roads with forests on either side. “You can't see anything,” she said.

In the afternoon, I drove into Medora, with an eye to internet access and groceries, since I had no fruit or vegetables. The internet access came easily at my first stop, the Billings County Courthouse Museum, which also serves as a visitors' center. It served as the original courthouse. When the county built a new courthouse, the old one was converted to a museum. It is complete with old safes that held documents and a jail where one can have one's photo take, “for Christmas cards” as the attendant put it. She and her mother regaled each visitor with tales of Medora. She directed me to a chair to the upstairs and there I wrote and published yesterday's blog. I took time to look at the museum as well, but I may have to finish the tour on my return trip in July.

Next, I wanted something to eat. Just around the corner the Medora Lutheran Church was holding a hamburger grill. For a donation, I got a cheeseburger, beans, and chips. I could have added in a bar and a soft drink but I really am trying to keep my weight down on this trip. Right behind me in line were Mary and Dan, the Buffalo Gap campground hosts. They host here in Medora in the summer than go to New Mexico in the winter. Dan was the director of Turtle River State Park (where I didn't stay because of rain) for seventeen years. Great hosts!

The rest of the time in Medora was less successful. The only place to buy groceries was the convenience store. A can of green beans was $1.79. The lettuce and carrots were old. I bought two apples. Next I went to a restaurant and ordered a side salad. The small bowl of wilted lettuce topped with sorry shredded cheese came to $3.49.

The town was crowded with tourists of the worst kind, who rush around buying silly souvenirs made in China and are rude if they aren't first in line. No smiling at them, this is serious business they are about. Do any of them ever hit the trails? If they did even a cursory drive through the park I would be surprised.

I went to the park visitors' center and asked if there was a place I could plug in my computer and work, but no, they couldn't help me that way. My computer's battery was about to go dead, so I went into the restroom, plugged the computer into the outlets for those who use hair dryers and spent some quality time on the toilet. Hair dryers use much more electricity than computers so I felt no remorse.

I finally put Medora behind me and went back to the campground which was nearly deserted. I sat in my lawn chair with my feet up on a stone and read an excellent novel, every so often looking up at the sunny buttes. It was sweet, sweet solitude.

It is too late for me. I will never make a good little tourist.