Contained in the following posts is the telling of a trip we have talked about for many years – a trip with our new teardrop camper – an extended trip of three+ weeks – a trip in which we expect to bear witness to a stunning diversity of amazing landscapes – a trip to the majesty of the Southwestern National Parks.
We left the familiarity of Minnesota landscapes to travel further west. The sprawling agricultural landscapes turned into the prairies and ranches of the South Dakota plains. After crossing the Missouri River the landscape became more rugged with rolling hills, plains, ravines, and buttes. We headed south into Nebraska, an area my travels have not taken me.
Much of the area we traveled was through the Nebraska Sandhills region. As far as our eyes could see in every direction were hills and canyons spread out like a wrinkled quilt covering the earth. The Sandhills are a region of mixed-grass prairie on grass-stabilized sand dunes. The only trees were those planted in areas surrounding human habitation – of which there were few and spread far apart. There were occasional narrow one-lane roadways taking off across the landscape – many had signs indicating the name of a cattle ranch. We could see some ranch houses from the highway, but many roads disappeared into the horizon.
It was one of these one-lane roadways that brought us to our next campsite. We used Hipcamp, an organization akin to Air B&Bs for the camping world, to reserve our Nebraskan Sandhill campsites, The directions told us to look for a specific mile marker on the highway and turn south for 2.6 miles, then head east for another 3.6 miles to a spot the road turned right just past his mailbox. The road was truly one lane. Much of it had some pavement on it, but long sections were gravel. There were frequent areas where we needed to cross a small ditch with bridges made of pipes laid across the roadway. Once we got to his mailbox, we had another two miles to go. The directions stated to camp just west of the grain bin. We followed the directions and found a grain bin. A picnic table confirmed this must be the spot. We pulled in. We were able to find a source of water, a wood pile, fire ring, and what approximated an outhouse.
The truly spectacular feature of this campsite was the sun setting over the sandplain horizon. It glowed red and stretched out to ignite the western horizon. This act repeated itself with the sun rising in the east. I can see how the locals come to love this land.
We had dinner, started a fire, and cleaned up. Darla settled into the camper when a pickup pulled into the camping area west of the grain bin. Francis is the rancher who owned this land, living on it since he was two years old. He farms this 4,000-acre ranch with his son. In the sandhills, Francis stated, this was a small ranch, one that had difficulty providing an income of two. Too sandy and hilly to commit to crops, it does well for the cattle ranching that dominates the area. Together, he and his son raise 200 head of cattle and are able to raise hay and enough corn to fill his grain bin on the ‘flats’ on the ranch. The chest flats are irrigated with a pivot irrigator. Francis had many stories to tell from his 70 years of living on this sandhill landscape. It was a pleasure to chat. I didn’t bring up the need for an updated outhouse.
We found a hard frost covering everything outside the camper that morning. Frost that dug deep into our water jug. We made a quick breakfast, cleaned up, and headed out.
Post Three – the Summit (in which we make the climb on West 170 out of Denver hoping our car had sufficient power to pull our trailer to the top)
The Purple Crayon 
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