South Dakota to Minnesota

September 5

We awoke after sunrise – which came relatively late here because of our location at the western edge of the Central Time Zone -- from our deep slumbers in the Walmart parking lot in Mitchell, SD to find that the campers we'd parked among had already gone and had been replaced by semi-trailers. We were pleased to be in this, the penultimate time zone we will reach on this continent as we circle the globe. We are now one hour closer to home, figuratively speaking.

We watched a huge burly truck driver of indeterminate gender exit the cab of the truck in front of our van, with a tiny shivery dog under one arm, to take it for its morning walk – curious contrasts and enigmas in corn country. I joined the parade of overnight patrons from the parking lot into Walmart; we all had the same thing in mind at 6:30 AM (no elaboration needed here ...). The night before I had wandered into the electronics department and found just what I needed. This morning I purchased it: a carrying case for my GPS to replace the one I'd left on the window sill in a restaurant in Redding, CA. No more carrying my GPS inside the work-glove contrivance I came up with in Oregon. My GPS now has a respectable receptacle.

By now my cheek has puffed out so much I can see it within my field of vision as I look downward. It causes me constant discomfort, but it is only painful to pressure (on a pillow while trying to sleep this IS a problem). I didn't want to talk to the Walmart clerk this morning, because I felt disfigured and I thought my speech was affected.

We drove to Mitchell's claim to fame: the Corn Palace – a building whose entire façade is decorated with ears of colored corn (maize) and other grains – a veritable corn-cob castle and a landmark that even my father spoke of visiting during his travels through here in the 1940s. Every year this decoration is replaced with a new design. We found parking was no problem this early in the morning, only a handful of other visitors had arrived. I convinced Razelle to go inside with me. It took some coaxing because Razelle didn't see what was so exciting about this staple crop of the Midwest. I, an Ohio native, was in my element. Something about Mitchell and corn and the whole ambiance here spoke to me of returning to familiar territory after crossing so much exotic terrain in so many exotic countries. I bought a tub of popcorn in the Corn Palace. I had to. It represented everything Mitchell stood for. As more visitors arrived to watch a tractor-pulling event, I noticed how many of the local citizenry seemed to be corn-fed ... to excess (obesity is a problem in Mitchell as much as it has been everywhere we've traveled in this country). I also bought a kitschy plastic coin purse like the one I used to own when I lived in the States. My spirits were uplifted by Mitchell; Razelle's, not so much.

We drove into Minnesota, our 14th state. Not much can be said about the southern edge of this state except that its near flatness and vast cornfields looked like what South Dakota must have looked like had we not driven across so much of that state in the dark.

Halfway across Minnesota we took a small detour into Iowa, our 15th state, for no real good reason other than to be able to say we had been to Iowa. I made it interesting, though, by doing this detour at Spirit Lake, Iowa. This town is on the shore of a lake that is a magnet for recreation seekers who appreciate clear blue water in a sea of corn fields. Razelle saw parallels between her lakeside home in Connecticut and the homes here in Spirit Lake. We stopped for fruit-pies (Razelle found a kosher brand all the way out here!). We also saw Black Jack licorice-flavored chewing gum for sale. I remember this from my childhood. It costs a lot more now than it did when I was a boy so I couldn't bring myself to buy any, despite the nostalgic urge to try it again.

We returned to Minnesota and drove to Blue Earth, MN, home to a towering statue of the Jolly Green Giant. A small building beside the statue was "manned" by an elderly couple who were there to greet visitors. I pointed out to them that their statue was among the tallest in the USA, ranked perhaps 3rd or 4th. They did not know this (actually it is ranked 9th, so at least it's in the top ten – I found this out later). We registered our visit in their guest book. We have the distinction of being their first Israeli visitors this summer and citizens of the 39th foreign country to visit them so far this year.


It was a pleasant visit with the "Lord of Peas and Corn", but we had to push on because Wendy and her friend were waiting for us in Faribault, MN (pronounced fairy-bow). It was a destination we could not reach from that distance by the time we were expected, so the friend left and we stopped at a rest stop near Owatonna, MN, to learn from an informative sign of the historical importance of Faribault: the first institution for the mentally retarded in Minnesota was established here in the 1870s. We drove all the way into Golden Valley, a suburb of Minneapolis, to greet Wendy at home.

Wendy showed us around her fair city of Minneapolis as the colors of sunset added a special glow to the tour. We delivered a bicycle to Dan at the apartment he is renting near the campus where he is studying. Dan wasn't feeling well when we met him (a reaction to some medicine), so we didn't stay to visit with him. Wendy took us to a favorite eatery of hers on the left bank (of the Mississippi River) called "Psycho Suzi's Tiki Lodge." They prepared a thin-crusted New-York-style vegetarian pizza Razelle raved about. I had a great chunk of iceberg lettuce with blue cheese dressing. When we were finished, we gazed at the Mississippi as it flowed passed in its confined channel – not a wide and impressive watercourse at this point, so far north. I told Razelle to remember this sight when we see the Mississippi again farther south.

Wendy took us back to her home by way of a vantage point where we could see the new bridge across the Mississippi that replaced the one that had previously collapsed; and she showed us where the neighborhood was that a tornado had gone through not long ago and now was a swath of cleared out empty lots. Minneapolis looks like an inviting place to live, if you don't dwell on the negatives just mentioned.

I spoke with Joel's father-in-law Arny in Seattle about my inflamed cheek. He advised me to see a dentist in Minneapolis right away and get a prescription for the antibiotics I had wanted in the first place but which had been denied me back in Seattle. Arny said the records of my extraction could be faxed to the office I went to here, and he could also professionally recommend the prescription be written, but he couldn't write it himself from Washington and have it honored in Minnesota. He also told me that a proper dental exam was advisable, in case the inflammation was due to a more serious cause.

Wendy had a flight to catch in the morning. It was a brief visit together, but well worth all the effort Razelle and I had expended pushing ourselves to get here by today. We said our good-nights and Razelle and I retired to our van to sleep out there. The driveway was level and I now had a quilted blanket to snuggle under (a gift from Wendy). Except for my concerns about my cheek, all was well with the world – from Wendy's driveway.