Dakan’s Ki Earth Adventure - Day 6 (I think)
Please bare with me as I try to figure this blog thing out . . . I’m writing from a Starbuck’s in St.Cloud, Minnesota.
I lost days four and five somewhere in South Dakota. That state goes on forever. I think it should be renamed “The Self-Promotion State.” There’s always something down the road to grab the tourist buck. By the time I got to Grand Rapids, way on the west side of the state, I’d already passed by the lure of Deadwood (the whole HBO series, based on that 1880 time period I write about, is worth renting on Netflix) and Sturgis, which has a massive Harley Davidson rally every year in August - probably the worlds biggest bikers convention. My fascination with bikers spilled over to Satori in the Twins of Kashal, as you may have read. (now free - http://www.twinsofkashal.com)
By the time I reached Grand Rapid, South Dakota, I had driven through Washington, Idaho and Montana and really needed a shower, and a shave, and a real bed. I thought maybe I might find a funky cheap hotel in downtown Grand Rapids, so I headed there. To my surprise and parking challenge, they were having their weekly “Thursday Night” festival. A city block turned into a beer garden. A country rock band was playing and little girls were below the stage dancing their hearts out. Everybody was drinking beer and just hanging out. All the cafe’s had waiting lists, and the one eight-story downtown hotel had one room left at $140. I passed. Tired and hungry I decided to head back to the freeway and rent a room in one of the many motels that line it. First I’d get something to eat. Olive Garden had a 45 minute wait. A fortyfiveminutewaitingrandfrickin’rapids!! I ended up eating stuffed flounder at the Red Lobster bar, served by a bartender who reminded me of Lurch - that Frankenstein character in the Addams Family. “Would you like a . . . bloody Mary . . .he, he,” he didn't whisper. Stuffed with flounder and baked potato, now I was tired and ready for Motel 6. (Remember, I am here to experience America.)
Now, these are big motels - some five stories high. There must have been twenty of the big name chains, all lined up. A motel daisy chain. They were ALL full. Unbelievable! At Day’s Inn I asked the girl at the counter what was going on - “This is summer in America,” she simply answered. Maybe the 50,000 people at the Grand Rapids Christian music festival had something to do with no rooms, I thought, but as she said, “There is always something going on in the summer.” By this time it was 9pm and I was a poor orphan in South Dakota looking for a bed. The girl booked me the last $100 room at Day’s Inn, fifty miles down the road at Wall. $100.00!??@#$%^$%.
Wall is famous for “Wall’s Drugs.” I remember Wall’s Drugs when I last passed by this place - I think back in 1953. Everywhere are bulletin boards on the freeway. Visit Wall Drugs. So, after getting every penny’s worth of my $100, (except I missed the “free” continental breakfast of Folger’s coffee and donuts) I checked out at 11am and headed to this great South Dakota drug store, thinking maybe I could buy a spongy for my bug collector windshield. Wow . . . Wall Drugs is a whole downtown of mostly Chinese nik-naks and T-shirts. And so cheap. I had to force myself not to buy a two-foot high Indian maiden doll with beads and feathers and real leather and the perfect doll face for $39.95. (I passed, intuitively knowing I would find my doll at the Adult Superstore in Minnesota)
Tearing myself away from nik-nak heaven, I drove down the freeway into the 100 degree day. Around 1pm I stopped at the 1880 Frontier Village. I paid my $8, to the old coot at the counter who I think was born in 1880, and entered a very well-done re-creation to an 1880 town - with real 1880 buildings and 1880 stuff . . . and actually no "looks-like-1880-shit-but-really-made-in-China-in-2010" stuff. Thank god! I liked the old saddles for some reason, and got to look down the shaft of a real 1880 outhouse. At 1:45 I belly'd up to the bar in the ornate saloon and ordered a cold root beer. (I was shocked at the price - $1.25!) (So unlike the same root bear at the Hyatt in Kauai which would probably cost me $6.25) The McNasty Brothers were playing to a packed house of around 20 mothers, fathers and kids . . . and me. The 60-something bearded dudes, with their buckskin and all that, looked like they were right out of 1880. They told some stupid jokes and played silly songs. A shy and a bit goofy teenage girl with braces and blue saloon gal dress - their “Calico girl” - tap danced across the floor. Took me right back to the good old days. I actually had some big laughs when they brought four little boys on the stage. They put big fake beards on their little faces and floppy hats. They gave the boy’s things to bang - like a cow bell and a kazoo, and instructed them to make noise when they heard the word “Now.” Of course the old dudes were saying “now” all over the place and the kids were banging away - to their joy and that of their parents - who were busy taking pictures.
This one 10 year-old boy, standing between the old musicians, strumming on the washboard for the first time, was in absolute bliss. With his long fake beard and floppy hat, he was part of the band, one of the McNasty’s. I have to tell you, that was a wonderful moment for me - watching those four boys in their pure joy and innocence, on stage, totally alive, banging away to their hearts content. Seemed like something we all want to do . . . if only the McNasty’s will invite us up.
I have more to write about South Dakota, and now Minnesota, but the highway calls - and the fact that it is awfully cold in this Starbucks and I dare not have another coffee.
By the way - and I will write more - Minnesota is a wonderful state to drive through. I headed off the freeway after Sioux Falls, South Dakota and up through the real farmland to St.Cloud - heading to Lake Superior today.
Many blessings, Dakan
--
David "Dakan" Allison
www.twinsofkashal,com
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