One of the amazing things about this country is the amount of “must-stop” places on road trips that don’t offer much in the way of a reason to stop–except to mingle with all of the other folks that have done the same math. It seems that we are all herd animals, and I have to admit that it’s fun to go to an occasional roundup.
Wall Drug is one such roundup, a thousand tourists in a town of 800, all crammed into a mall-like building browsing through key chains, jackalopes, cheaply made cowboy hats, rock art, and jewelry. In my case, jewelry meant replacing my lost squirt ring from my first trip to Wall Drug as a kid–which I was thrilled to find among the displays of plastic dog doo and fake spilled Coke. Souzz is now in goggles as a precautionary measure.
Truthfully, we wouldn’t have missed stopping in Wall, as it’s definitely a part of the road trip experience. It gave us a chance to marvel at kids panning for gold in a man-made creek, to eavesdrop on a salesperson for South Dakota wine (we passed), to mix in with family reunions in matching shirts, and to see throngs of travelers taking pictures next to a 25 foot long plastic Rushmore replica (some of whom were surely just at Rushmore).
That’s me, 1968 
A jackalope, and a jackass in training
One of the restaurants had pizza in the window that would have made 7-11 proud. I asked Souzz if she wanted to stay for lunch. Now I’m no expert in non-verbal communication, but I got the idea that we’d be eating later.
