Great Westward Push Day 5 (Monday, Sept. 23, 2002 — Minneapolis, Minn to Pierre, S.D.): 85 Miles an Hour!
Nordell says that I should call her in the morning at 9, and I do, already showered and dressed and ready for breakfast — she’s promised scrambled eggs. When she shows up, though, somehow I get busy making breakfast while she showers! I guess I’m not surprised. Anyway, the eggs turn out well.
We kibitz a bit and I head out. After I hit I-90 west, I stop to get gas. It is VERY WINDY, as I write in my notebook. The car is blowing all over the road, and when I get out to pump gas, I realize that the gusts are tremendous.
I see my first billboard for Wall Drug, hundreds of miles away.
At 1:30, I stop at Blue Earth, Minnesota, for a quick McDonald’s lunch.
125 miles from Sioux Falls, I see a Chevy Malibu with New York plates — stuck between the rear passenger windows is a closet rod, and shirts and trousers are hanging from it as if the rear seat is a closet! (Later, at Badlands National Park, I will see a Buick with this same treatment.)
There are railroad-crossing gates on I-90, with signs warning of penalties if they are passed when down. I guess it gets snowy around here.
I am able for the first time to sustain a cruising speed of 85 mph. At 3:26 I enter South Dakota, the first time I have been to this state. I have my first feeling of being Out West — Minnesota isn’t really far enough. Now, though, I’ve gotten into the “Westward” part of the Push.
The speed limit in S.D. is 75 mph, which is considerable. I’m a bit nervous about going so fast, but I do. Hey, when in Rome…!
At 3:49, I hit 1750 miles (just past Sioux Falls).
For a few miles I must contend with road work, as I have had to do in every state of the Push. Ridiculous! Half of I-90 is closed, with only one side being used for all traffic — one lane in each direction. For 11 miles, I am stuck behind a red Dodge Stratus blithely doing 55, even though the reduced speed limit is 65. Argh!
I snap a picture of the “WEST I-90” sign, pulling to the shoulder to do so, although the road is so empty — I can see for miles in each direction thanks to the flat terrain — that I could probably have just stopped in the travel lane.
I note that older highway overpasses, it seems, are made of steel; newer ones, of concrete.
I also note a preponderance of schlocky billboards, as if this is the 1950s. Each advertises some silly attraction or other — but some discuss abortion. Abortion?! On highway billboards?!? In South Dakota?!?!!
At 5:30, I write in my book: “Spectacular sky. These are the Great Plains. I’m west!”
I stop (at 1883.1 miles) at a scenic overlook, which turns out to be right at the Missouri River. I get some nifty pictures.
Every time I stop I check my tires. I’m paranoid about my tires, ever since getting my first flat ever in December, which — because I witnessed my friend Andrew successfully change a tire when our car in Ireland got a flat in January 2001 — I took care of with no difficulty. For this trip I actually took the precaution of packing an extra tire in the trunk, so just in case I get a puncture, I can have the tire replaced without waiting for a replacement to be special-ordered (as is necessary, apparently, with my car). I notice what seems to be a small tear in the sidewall of the front-left tire, but it must just be cosmetic, as the inflation level seems fine. I keep checking; the tires are still all fine.
My cell phone, which has enabled me until now to speak with my parents and my friends Susan, Leah, Jansen, and Scott, no longer gets reception, and I assume this situation will endure for some time.
At 6:22 I hit 1900 miles.
“No other cars on road,” I write. “I feel vindicated to have come in Sept.” Some of my friends asked me why I didn’t do the Push in the summer, but I wanted to steer clear of crowded roads and parks and screaming children. It’s all worked out great.
On 83 north, heading to Pierre, there’s a short stretch of under-construction road, with a truck carrying a house in front. But the road opens up, and I blow past it.
The 30-mile drive on 83 north to Pierre is gorgeous, the sun setting to my left. I stop to get some pictures.
In Pierre, I drive past a huge livestock yard and trading area to the left. It’s twilight, so although I drive up to the state capitol and get a couple of pictures, they don’t come out too well.
Lodging tonight is a Super 8 motel, which seems OK. I get some food from Subway — opting to eschew the convenience of the adjacent Mexican restaurant because, well, Mexican food in Pierre?! — and I try to catch up on my writing before turning in.
Miles today: 486.7
Total miles: 1970.7
Noteworthy CDs: None that I especially remember, but I am very glad to have bought my Jackie Wilson and Chuck Berry CDs, both of which I listen to with disproportionate frequency