Back in 2008 I went to the Black Hills Classic for the first time. That trip was the beginning of my love affair with the West. I learned a lot on this trip from a technical aspect as well as personal. I started to learn to stop and experience what I am passing on the road. On the morning I left Johnson Siding, South Dakota, I ran I90 east to Murdo. ( I got to hang out with a South Dakota State Trooper before breakfast because they DO NOT like ape hangers...)
After breakfast in Murdo I headed due South on US Highway 83. I was headed this direction because I wanted to stop in Valentine, Nebraska, my grandfather's boyhood home. What I didn't know was how scenic US 83 was going to be. I quickly found myself in the middle-of-nowhere on top of these giant hills. I tried to capture the scene as best as I could but I felt as literally on top of the world-click the top picture!
While I was soaking all this in a group of horses came up to see who was riding the iron horse. Wow! They came waltzing up to the fence line o see just who-the-heck-this guy was! The beauty of the west sunk another barb into my soul!