As we left the mountainous western states, we entered endless flats, grasslands and Windows XP wallpapers. Our last stop in the mountains was Mt. Rushmore, where four heads of presidents are carved into rock. And nearby an even bigger Crazy Horse Memorial for an Indian warrior has been a work-in-progress since 1948.
There were two exciting things in this part of the trip. First was meeting huge herds of buffalos right on the road. Playful, wild and as close as never before. It felt strangely invasive to sit there in the car while wilderness was living its busy life around us a couple of feet away. The second thing was our trip through Needles Highway.
Every sign along the way was pointing out the size of the main tunnel on the highway, which was coincidentally the exact official width and height of our trailer. We could either skip the highway entirely or risk damaging our home. We decided to go for it. In the worst case scenario, we could probably turn around somewhere. But as we approached the tunnel after a 12 mile drive on a narrow road, I did not feel like coming back anymore.
When we were ready to go for it, two camps formed: one was supporting us with detailed instructions on how to drive and the other one thought we are dumb and took their phones out to record how we lose our AC unit or get stuck. After about five minutes, Lukas emerged from the other end without a single scratch and with a satisfied smile on his face. Around us 20 people were applauding, shouting and kept repeating how big our balls are.
First, I want to point out that it was a logical decision, not based on how big our balls are. We chose to trust the information that we have. Secondly, I really loved the response of Lukas to all the comments: "it's just stuff anyway".