[ this end up ]

>Frag-Update

In Uncategorized on September 26, 2005 at 7 am

>To catch up, this update encompasses three places in chrono-list form and fragmented sentences (Brian’s blog has a complete-er version of these three days):
Algona, so many feelings, nostalgia. Had great chat with grandpa about life, parenthood, being a man. Very open and honest.
Saw cousin Paul’s newborn and first child. Beautiful. Obvious feelings accompanying the holding of a small child. Many books written on subject, some of which I will likely one day read.
Drove to Ames to see Mike and Courtney. Very fun. Played pool, drank, caught up on life and a friendship I care deeply about.
Back to Algona to see Amy, who was in town to see brother Paul’s baby. Short visit but nice. She’s my age but married. Our lives are so similar at this point but yet, so drastically different.
Drove west. Drive is rhythmic, beautiful. Orange City, IA to see relatives. Another newborn. Two babies in one day, some sort of record for me. Saw small-town football game. Crowd was huge, seems like everyone in town. All very happy and excited to be there. I frequently wish life was that simple and I guess it is for some.
North Dakota into night. According to travel book SD has 1 person to every 10 acres. Bullshit. No one lives out here. Moon so bright we see for miles, over grassy hills, the topography undulating with the grass. Neared Mt. Rushmore, found spot to camp. By found spot I mean side of road. Went to sleep afraid of cops, killers and runaway trucks, the latter vividly. Woke up to sound of semis on exit ramp. One probably almost fell over on us during night, we were lucky. Ate McDonalds. Saw cowboys and locals starting their day (it was 7-something-am) Despite the surroundings (McDonalds) something very real about the people. This is their lives. Everyone here is living, everyday how they live. Zen moment of sorts, or just very tired.
Rushmore- Amazing yet fake. All people tourists. Snapping photos, looking, leaving. Not blood and pulse of America. Brian and I go to gift shop to make fun of the crap people buy. Get all but kicked out over a $150 tomahawk I was wielding in Brian’s direction. Funny.
Drove around. Met locals. Ate and drank. Bought groceries at wal-mart. Brian is confused for a local with his cowboy hat and facial hair, he indulges the mistake.
Wyoming- AMAZING. Saw bright rainbow. Saw Devils Tower (look it up, what are you lazy?) Land, lush and green and yellow and soft and sky is bright and blue and sun sets on us in miraculous waves of color.
Sleep on side of road. 47 degrees. Again scared. This time of mountain men. Fall asleep dreaming of gun battles in the night, which fade—like so many dreams do—to flying without wings and sex.
Awake. Push to Montana listening to Van Morrison. Land is vast, constantly changing from rocks to fields to mountains to plains. Unlike Iowa people don’t till this land. Ranchers. In Iowa framers know every inch, every crop. Here, men own land to seemingly for the sake of owning land. You look across miles and miles and feel free and open, then you realize all of it owned and the west no long feels so wild. Get to Rob’s in Livingston.

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