Painted Canyon - going West

We stopped even though it was raining. In North Dakota, where I grew up, it's as flat as you can get. The land grows more varied as you move west. Theodore Roosevelt National Park in Medora offers the first real glimpse along Interstate 94 of where we're going. As far as I could tell, the West began at Painted Canyon, so I got out of the car in the rain to see the way the grey sky couldn't diminish the varied shades of green set against red clay. It's gorgeous, but I don't want to live there. I want to keep going. I wonder if early explores thought this. If this is what it looks like here, what could be next? Let's keep going. Let's find the borders and touch the ocean. No matter what happens between now and then, here and there, it will be worth it just to see it. If we get the chance to do more than look over railings – if we can walk out there where the trails are hard to find and the goats acquiesce to our presence – we want to do it.