Drive to Night Classes

        The picture in the header of this page shows the Missouri River as it divides South Dakota from Nebraska. While completing my doctorate a few years ago, I saw this particular view nearly every day as I drove to my classes or to study at the University of South Dakota library. Rarely did I see a view on my way home (except for the one night that the Northern Lights were glorious) because my travels home were after dark. A one-way trip on paved roads was 55 miles - about 60 minutes. It was possible to drive in 30 miles, but that would be on gravel roads that were narrow and, as they approached South Dakota, winding. The trip was much longer (75-90 minutes) because of farm vehicles moving to and from fields, and many ruts in the road.
        I would leave home and my town with stoplights (albeit 3), sidewalks and paved streets, and I would literally "head for the hills." After 15 minutes, I would arrive at another time, another place. There were occasional farms or acreages, but the homes, whether old or new, had an eccentricity about them that articulated a desire to live in that area. The cornfields, for the most part, dissolved into open fields of wild cedar trees, and the ground would be spattered with rocks. (It was as though God held back a handful when he created the Rockies, just to lightly toss them a few hundred miles to the east.) 
        Contrary to the typical opinion of "outsiders," Nebraska is quite hilly. Not only does Nebraska have a panhandle, but it is actually shaped like a pan, with rolling hills along the borders in all directions. In fact, in the very northwest corner of Nebraska (the Panhandle), there are mountains! The middle of Nebraska, which welcomes visitors to the state with man-made constructions that depict history and provide for the watching of migrating birds, is flat, just as the interior of a pan is flat.
        Even though I intellectually knew better on repeated trips to South Dakota, the crest of each hill held the vision of a new, higher hill. Climbing higher and higher, I passed two very small towns and a rustic roadside cemetery. I looked at the scenery in awe, imagining that Native Americans of 200 years ago watched me just as they must have watched Lewis and Clark. Finally, from high above the flat plains of South Dakota, the river came into view from the Nebraska bluffs.
        On several occasions, I began the trip early so that I could climb the Mulberry Bend Scenic Overlook constructed near the bridge. From there I could see the colors of the current season, and the beginning of the long, wide turn of the river toward the south. This part of the river, between the dams to the west and the channeling to the south, is much like the Missouri of the past.
        Wildlife abounds in the region. I saw bald eagles several times, but the trip requires a driver to stop looking up and remain watching the road in order to avoid pheasants, wild turkeys, badgers, coons, skunks, and deer. At night, I sometimes saw a deer nearly every mile. One night, something began to move onto the road, and then backed into the weeds along the side. As I got closer, I examined the spot where I had seen the animal, and a vicious creature glared at my car with bared teeth, gleaming eyes, and ears flattened to its head. It was a coyote. I had heard coyotes many times, even from my house back in "civilization," but never had I seen such a nasty-looking creature. 
        I consider the route a curious one that compares to being in the middle of a cornfield, or for me, on a plane. Cell phones do not work in most places there. At night, lights are seen sparingly or not at all. When driving the route, I have never been able to emotionally reconcile that I am no more than a mile or two away from a phone, and no more than 15 minutes from a large town and 30 minutes from a city. It is one of those minuscule adventures that revive the day.