I had lunch at the All American Diner in the tourist ghetto down the hill from Mt. Rushmore. The restaurant, ironically, is truly All American in its bland fakeness. They thawed out a tiny six dollar pizza which I ate while sitting at at table on the sidewalk. Minivans and SUVs rolled by as a man dressed in wild west garb walked the street cracking a whip, announcing shows at his restaurant and endlessly repeating the same jokes about it being a great place to take those annoying kids... or grownups. I laughed till I cried every time.

I'd gotten a map of Badlands National Park at Mt. Rushmore and headed in that direction. It was close and I knew I wouldn't be back in this part of the world for a while. I drove into a remote park entrance and followed a little dirt road for several miles before reaching the main paved route. Most other remarkable places I visited in the United States reminded me of somewhere else I went on my trip. Not here. The Badlands is truly unique. I won't attempt to describe the awesome shapes and shadows created by the bizarre mounds of earth.

Unlike other National Parks, though, this one doesn't beckon you to walk miles and miles through it. For me, the views from the road are sufficient to experience the Badlands. It was the perfect windshield tour destination. I was in and out in a couple of hours and felt I'd experienced about everything I wanted.

"Today it's really more of a palace *covered* in corn."
It's a long way across South Dakota. I was many more hours away from Mitchell, South Dakota. Just up the road from Tom Brokaw's hometown of Yankton, Mitchell is home to the world's only Corn Palace. It's billed as a palace made of corn, but today it's really more of a palace *covered* in corn. In winter it serves as a civic arena for the small city, but in summer it's transformed into kitch tourist attraction. The basketball court is covered with museum displays and trinket shops.

The Corn Palace was originally built to lure people to the plains with proof that corn grows in abundance in the fertile soil. And what better way to do that than by constructing a palace made of corn. There were two other palaces before the current one. All are documented with numberous photographs in museum. The corn exterior and the designs it creates are changed every year, with this year's theme honoring the anniversary of the Lewis and Clark expedition which passed through the area. Leaving the Corn Palace, though, one realizes that you visit here to say you've been here... not for any amazing experience you'll have while here.

"This is the Mall of America, after all."
I crossed the border into Minnesota and spent the night in a very remote backroad town of about ten buildings before heading to Minneapolis and the famous Mall of America. I'd heard amazing things about this place, supposedly the second largest shopping mall in the world, after the East Edmonton Mall in Canada. From the photos and stories it seemed more amusement park than mall, with roller coasters and water rides inside the retail Mecca. Usually the thought of going to the mall makes me recoil, but this is the Mall of America, after all.

It was a huge disappointment. It's basically like somebody took a big upscale mall and a big downscale mall and plopped them down so they surround a traveling carnival. It's just a big three or four story square with shops lining the four sides and a few rides in the glassed-in middle. There are two of most famous stores, for those who can't be bothered to walk all the way to the other side of the square. Two sides of it are quite posh, while the other two are less so, accomodating all classes of retailers. But at the end of the day it's just a mall. I exchanged a necklace I'd bought at an American Eagle in Cincinnati and had come apart and left. A girl in the parking lot hit me up with some scam story about needing money. Funny how much different that situation is now than before I went traveling.

On to the U.P. I crossed into Michigan and spent a night on the Upper Peninsula in a delightfully homey and inexpensive roadside motel. My host checked me in while wearing a bathrobe, boxer shorts and nothing else. The television in my room somehow had Dish Network, so I got to watch an episode of American Chopper on the Discovery Channel.

"I once again got the questions and raised eyebrows."
In Sault Ste. Marie I got my car's oil changed and headed for Canada. Yet again I was told to come inside and talk to an immigration agent. I once again got the questions and raised eyebrows. Funny that while the Americans are worried about my visits to the Middle East, all the Canadians care about is if I'm gonna go live on the streets in Vancouver or Toronto. But they eventually let me in.

I spent not a single night in Canada this time, driving all the way across to Niagra Falls in the same day. Once there I drove by the Falls and could see them easily from the road. I was looking for a place to park when I saw the lots were charging $15 Canadian. I drove by the Falls one more time and headed for the border. I've seen plenty of waterfalls this trip.

This border crossing was even more fun as the asshole Homeland Security guy didn't like that I'd slowly rolled past his little sign that says "STOP, Proceed when Clear." I rolled past the sign and looked up at him as he said "What part of that sign didn't you understand."

"The part where it says 'proceed when clear'," I said.

He didn't much care for that and was quite unpleasant to me as I was quite unpleasant back at him. But I didn't care. I'd broken no law and he can't keep me out of my own country, so I didn't mind messing with him. He gave up and let me in.

"But it was mostly exactly as I remember it."
I spent the night just east of Buffalo and headed the next day to Syracuse, my Alma Mater. It was my first time back since I graduated eight years ago. I parked and walked around my old dorms, one of which has now been torn down. But it was mostly exactly as I remember it. I expected it would be unrecognizable as colleges seem always to be renovating and building and razing. Even the Sbarros in the student center food court was right where I remembered it.

I met up with one of my professors, the chair of the Broadcast Journalism department, and reminisced for a while. I didn't expect her to remember me but she passed me in the hallway and shouted "Oh my God!" She's got a great memory. It was very cool to see the old place again. I remember when my time as a Syracuse student was winding down thinking about how I'd come back someday. I was thinking back then about how a place isn't just a location; it's an intersection of space and time. I was walking down from my apartment to a class and thinking that while I may come back to this spot in the future, it would never be the same place. As I walked down that same sidewalk eight years later I realized I was right. Everything was just as it had been, but it no longer belonged to me.

I got back on the Thruway and headed for Massachusetts, arriving at my brother Matt's house just before dark. A few days here with him followed by a trip south an home. My new job in Baltimore starts in just a few weeks. In some ways I'll never be the same following this trip; in others, it's as though I never left.

There will be another one of these someday...