Truck Stop Near the Border

Long road trips of any kind, anytime of day, in any weather, and in any state of mind are good. My favorite time to drive is the afternoon if I’m in the plains, mountains in the evening, and past midnight almost anywhere. I’ve done countless trips during the heat of the day through the Midwest, the south, the west, and eastern Montana. I’ve stopped a lot in the North Dakota Badlands for extended breaks during some of those. I rarely take the time to hike into the park, but I always stop at the overlook for a while and if I’m lucky, a few bison are resting in the grass nearby. The badlands of South Dakota are just as beautiful and feel even more surreal. Years ago, my wife, our daughter, one of her friends, our dog, and I, parked our RV overnight in a KOA Park in the middle of the southern badlands. It felt like we’d landed on a different planet because the landscape is so wild. I think it’s better in the Badlands than another planet would be though, because it had amenities like a pool, showers, breakfast options, craft activities for kids, and geological hikes that explain the formations and what’s likely buried beneath them.

I’d been driving for eight hours when I arrived near the border. It was early evening, still hot, sticky and hazy. I was road weary and felt dusty like I’d been on a windy prairie. I hadn’t been. I began my day in eastern Ohio. It often takes me awhile to leave the town I’ve stayed at overnight, regardless of where it is. I move slow in the morning and I like to linger at favorite coffee shops and eateries in familiar towns. If it’s a new town, i like to search for new favorite place.

Early evening at this truck stop, in the middle of nowhere, was also a perfect time to linger. I’d purchased what I needed and found a grassy patch with shade to sit. My wife and I had spoken earlier that day and rather than interrupt her again, I texted. It was brief and included where I was, when I might arrive and everything I just purchased—gas, wiper fluid, skittles, Gatorade, a coke, two mediocre wrapped deli sandwiches and a pick-me-up doughnut for later. I mentioned that bundles of firewood were cheap here and I might buy a couple of those as well. After a minute, or two, the text dots started to pulsate. Then they stopped and awhile went by before she responded. “Are you OK? Firewood?” “Yeh, I’m OK. I decided not to buy the firewood.” I was happy staring up at the enormous four story sign on two black columns that read Waffle House. Admiring the huge black type on giant yellow squares, eating my dinner, and watching the heat waves rise from the fields was just enough.

Songs :: Dusted Mind by Steve Gunn, Southern Cross by The Ozark Mountain Daredevils, Hoover Dam by Sugar, Into the Mystic by Van Morrison, Brandy (You’re a Fine Girl) by Looking Glass, and State Trooper by Bruce Springsteen