UPDATE: almost as I remember it

I was "back home" last weekend.

An invitation had been extended a year or so earlier and I returned my RSVP and then went ahead and actually showed up. Of course, I didn't need an invitation. I've been free to travel there since the last restraining order was lifted in '99. But still, it's always nice to be asked.

I got there Thursday afternoon after an attempted high speed dash across a state that's apparently avoided upgrading its deteriorating interstate highway bridge system for a little too long. The most relevant evidence I observed was that they forbid more than one vehicle going no more than 45 mph at a time on every f*cking bridge every two miles or so - like they're rationing access to the west. I felt like I was driving in a Mad Max movie. All sorts of crazy vehicle combinations jockeying for position before the lanes close or the gas runs out. Maybe I should have flown.

To be sure, going home was potentially a bad-crazy decision. Picture "me' speeding a premium rental full of fragile and expensive high technology towards a dangerous, forgotten town perched on the edge of a crumbling whitish-red cliff of ancient volcanic ash dotted with poisonous weeds and cactus. A place where the water tastes worse than egg salad left overnight on the kitchen counter. Really, can't you people taste the sulphur in your well water?

So it went. On and on at 80 mph. Mitchell (Cabelas and Culvers - two great business models). Chamberlain. Presho. Murdo. Kadoka. A blur of roadside attractions and the infuriating road construction. Fighting a hot, dry southern blast of tropical storm force wind. And you better have satellite radio or a buttload of CDs because there's no radio here. No music at all. Just the shriek of tires on asphalt and the whining wind.

When I finally tunneled through the windy outback and actually got there, the major street(s) were blockaded. As I drove around town I often had to go way around town to get around town. Some things had changed. There was an oil change/lube operation with an attached espresso bar with a Wi-Fi connection (I think they even spelled it right - if they spelled it expresso, someone please send me a photo so I can post it). They didn't have iced Vietnamese coffee which I found to be mildly disappointing. Buffalo meat was for sale in town. Oddly, I hadn't seen a buffalo since just west of Sioux Falls. Maybe they import them to the west now.

There's a new school out by the highway just west of the rodeo arena. "More computers than students" one technologically-embarrassed critic stated. He probably didn't realize how cheaply they'd got those 14 Commodore 64s. Someday they'll both be a featured exhibit in a major anthropological institution.

Second night in town, we were treated to a steak at the new Red Rock Inn (no apparent connection to the Colorado amphitheater) in the Walker NAPA Auto Parts building on Glenn Street. This was a highlight of the trip and the best food I had in town.

All in all and with the exception of the nachos I ate (and which made me too ill to go out Saturday night) at a "fine-dining-establishment" (named after a desert plant often called a cactus) on Saturday morning after the parade, the town was almost as I remember it. My rooms were quite comfortable, folks were generally hospitable and I didn't have to walk very much to get around. It was truly difficult to spend any money (with the exception of the aforementioned dining establishment). I was comped on the rodeo and the beer tent. I struggled to drink all the drinks ordered for me from near and far; some phoned in by friends who were simply delayed or otherwise couldn't make it.

What I had forgotten about the old town was how good looking all the women were and are still, to this day. I didn't get any pictures because I left my camera in the car. But you all know who you are.

Now, if you just had good brick-oven pizza I wouldn't have to move to Phoenix.