Hello again, loyal View enthusiasts (Hi Mom!). It’s been awhile since my last post. Maybe you’ve noticed. I am a year older (almost) and a year… well, not wiser, but suffice to say I will be wary of devouring, in one sitting, a whole bag of Cheetos and unnamed amounts of gas station-procured Spicy Elk Jerky. I know, I know, you say, “But surely, that is a pleasant combination of flavors and textures.” To which I reply, “Nay, good sir. Some awful offal abounds for the one who would endeavor to partake of such a feast.”

But I digress. In the past 6 weeks we have done a fair share of traveling, over 9,000 miles in fact, through the Midwest, to the Pacific Northwest, down California, across Arizona and Texas, to North Carolina, up to Pennsylvania, and out to D.C. There is an irony to this amount of travel in that we experience, what I call, sedentary motion, whereby we traverse hundreds of miles in any given day while physically my muscles slowly turn to veal. It is also on long excursions such as these that one learns not to indulge in such fanciful dining experiences as the one listed above, lest one make the journey inordinately distressing. So, on these weary roads, with time on my hands, a constant eyeful of God’s unending canvas, and in an effort to maintain what little muscle mass I have left by repeatedly lifting a two pound camera to my eye, I have re-taken up photography. And I will post here several pictures of some of the more interesting sights we have seen along the way, possibly with pithy commentary. For a more detailed read about our time, please refer to the Week in Review (which is a much more timely and honest blog).

First off, I need to explain my style of photography. It is known, in more intellectual circles, as Drive-By Shooting. This is where our over-sized, aerodynamically-unstable tin box on skateboard wheels, hurtles precipitously along at the fastest possible speed allowed by the laws of physics, as I take pictures through a dingy glass window at vistas that remain in view for mere fractions of a second. The effect is that most of my pictures look like America through a time warp.

Besmudging America one picture at a time

Our first stops were in Iowa and Minnesota… of which I have no pictures. Oh, wait. Here we are. Corn.

Some of the Annie Moses Band disappearing into the vast reserves of Iowan corn fields

Future steaks gathered around a watering hole in Minnesota

Moving right along, we made our way through the prairies of South Dakota, making a beeline for one of the greatest works of American art and patriotism, Mt. Rushmore. Along the way we spotted a rogue band of injuns on the run from prairie settlers. This throws a wrench in my public school history classes.

Get ‘em boys

Anyway, finally arriving at our destination, we were thoroughly awed.

Awwwwwww…

As magnificent as this sculpture is, Alex felt that it just wasn’t quite complete, though he couldn’t put his finger on it.

The future Mount Rushmore

Let me get that for you…

I firmly believe our Government should be investing in more artistic statements like this – timeless, patriotic, awesome. Not the finger-picking, the sculpture! Eleven score and twelve years ago, our forefathers brought forth upon this continent, a new nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that the Annie Moses Band can worship and perform freely… The amazing thing about this – besides the fact that it is huge and carved from a sheer rock cliff by God-fearing American laborers wielding jackhammers while dangling precariously over the edge – is that most of the rock was carved the American way… with dynamite, or what we might call shock and awe. The AMB favorite is Teddy Roosevelt.

To learn more about Mt. Rushmore click here http://www.nps.gov/moru/historyculture/carving-history.htm

Love the mustache and spectacles

Skeedaddling from the visages of our dear departed leaders, we crossed into Big Sky country, or Texas. I mean, Montana. The landscape here is beautiful.

Beautiful – not a half bad photo either

We followed our trusty trailer rear into mountain passes…

Our trailer forging a path before us, like Pocahontas to Lewis and Clark.

and beheld, for the first time this season, SNOW! At over a mile above sea level, the evergreens were lightly dusted.

Behold, a light dusting of snow falleth on the evergreen

Fearing a shortage of diesel in these alpine expanses, we pulled over to a little mountain town for a quick fill-up and a short respite from the pallid cold. It was here at this gas station that I spotted the previously mentioned Elk Jerky. It is a favorite in these parts I suspect. I imagine elk run wild here like squirrels in Tennessee, stealing food from carefully placed bird-feeders, having to be chased out of garbage cans at night, and causing all manner of pesterence, so it would be a natural tendency to turn them into jerky. However, the main commerce of this town is not jerky making as one might expect, but is proudly displayed on a classy, antique-styled sign.

Not one part of the elk is wasted

It seems our unnamed town (unnamed only because I don’t take notice of such minute details as names of places) was settled near the summit of this mountain range. Continuing on, we found ourselves breaching the apex, and as we descended the other side, were privy to a Rockwell-esque view of a snowy mountain town below us.

I can almost smell the hot chocolate on the stove and the burning of the wood fireplaces

On that pleasant thought, I will leave you. Next time – Idaho, Washington, Oregon, and beyond.