Day 6 - High Plains

No comment.

Actually, it makes me very sad to think how brutally they were slaughtered. I couldn't bring myself to go into the National Buffalo Museum. And then monuments are constructed to what is lost.

Miles and miles and miles of cornfields in Minnesota, into North Dakota, all around me is straw-colored, tan and flat, and a cold wind. Every other little town has a sign up for "Pioneer Village." Climb up the plateau heading toward the Canadian border and the fields turn gray and almost white. I am in wheat country and oil derricks are scattered about. The wind is blowing hard and snow geese migrating north to breed are gathering in the ponds that dot the prairie.