Cheyenne-Country Roosters

Pheasants galore at Cheyenne Ridge Lodge

As dusk fell across the farthest reaches of a seeming- ly flat earth, I turned off of Interstate 90 onto US Highway 281, an arrow-straight line of asphalt that traverses the state of South Dakota from north to south. The tiny town of Plankinton sits a mile off of this junction. At least one of the town's 600 people is a cleverly sarcastic soul, for here a large homemade sign reads: "Plankinton-Next 3 Exits." The chuckle kept me awake momentarily. My eyelids already had begun to droop, and I still had three hours left to drive.

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