From Lusk till dawn

Nobody wakes me up this night. It was necessary, urgent. In the morning I go shopping, pack my things. Cook Jordan something as a thank you. Also urgently needed. Students know what’s good, but can’t cook. He’s delighted and eats loads of stuffed courgettes. I leave late at half past one.

I drive north along the eastern flank of the Rockies. On the right are the last foothills of the Great Plains with their sand hills. From Wyoming onwards, I see pure prairie with golden grasses and rolling hills for the first time. The sun repeatedly illuminates only individual patches and intensifies the glow.
I keep stopping to take photos, but time is too short.

After 250 miles, I leave the interstate and continue on small highways to Lusk. From there I continue into the Black Hills. From a distance, I think I can see rain at first. Up close, I realise that the Black Hills are on fire. The smell of smoke is everywhere and the sun is conjuring up crazy rays in the blackened air. Fire-fighting aeroplanes are circling over the flames. I continue northwards through small red canyons.

Around eight o’clock I arrive in Rapid City after 400 miles. The sun is setting. I thought the time limit was also the state border. But it’s not, or in short: I’m an hour early. I drive around, find an unprotected network and check my emails. My hosts Jeff and Rene are home around nine. I like them straight away. Bikers with German ancestors, incredibly friendly, talk and listen. They’ve already been to Germany and want to come over again.

Writing before going to sleep has become very important to me in the last few weeks. First I almost fall asleep while writing. And then I dream about what I’ve written.