Today’s mission: Operation Huckleberry Pie.
Status: Failed.
Success: Medium-high, thanks to cookies.
Before leaving Wyoming, I launched a full-scale (mildly enthusiastic) hunt for huckleberry pie. Sadly, it was a bust. No pie to be found. But all was not los, I did manage to score some Huckleberry Iced Cookies in Cheyenne. There’s half a dozen with your name on them, Ray Tuttle . I really did try to bring back a proper pie or two... consider this a sugary consolation prize.
Aside from my failed pastry pursuit, the day was mostly uneventful.
I said goodbye to the majestic mountains and traded them for the Flattest Show on Earth, the plains. I already miss the mountains. But in a fun geographical discovery, I learned that the tallest mountain east of the Mississippi is Mount Mitchell in the Appalachians, 6,600 feet! Now that sounds like a future vacation idea. I can already picture myself eating huckleberry pie at the summit. (Let me dream.)
As for the plains:
Windmills? Check.
Oil pumps? Check.
Farms? Check.
Gas stations? Scarce.
Excitement? Not exactly.
Tonight’s stop: Wichita, Kansas.
Tomorrow: Birmingham, Alabama—because nothing says “road trip” like zigzagging through the South with cookies and dreams of mountains.
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