I've driven 1300 miles across The Great Plains to arrive at Mills Canyon, New Mexico. I drove through Iowa, Nebraska, Kansas and Oklahoma to get here. Never having seen the Great Plains, all I'd ever heard of was their utter monotony. (See my previous post.)
I'd prepared for the worst.
The plains are vast and seemingly unending. But therein to me lies their magnificence. ...thousands upon thousands of acres of corn and soybeans. ...miles of fallow fields. There are places where the earth's curvature is plainly (yes, a pun) visible. The only interruption is that which humanity constructed. Roads, fences, these insanely huge grain elevators that rise as monoliths in the distance. The magnitude of the Great Plains left me awestruck.
It's dotted with small towns. ...towns with names like Cawker City (home of the world's largest ball of sisal twine), Red Cloud and Friend. ...all populated with a sturdy sort of folk who eagerly queried me of my origin and destination. And who, upon hearing of my adventure, invariably recommended points of interest along my route. I would have completely missed the world's largest ball of sisal twine ( Cawker City) had it not been for such. I found these folks friendly, kind and helpful. ...not one asshole in the bunch did I encounter.
Don't get me wrong. The landscape is unforgivably monotonous. I can only imagine what life here is like. I know I could never live here. If I did end up living here, I'd likely devolve into a meth-smoking, mumblity-peg playing subhuman who masturbates way too much.
Hmm...
Welcome to New Mexico!
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