Monday dawned glorious in the Midwest. Or at least might of, we didn’t roll out of bed until well after dawn. once we did, however, it was to head back down to the city and take a gander at this so-called “Mall of America”.

It’s… a big mall. Not the sprawling monstrosity I had imagined, it was a giant square 4 stories tall, with a compact but entertaining little amusement park nestled in its center. I’ve since earned there are a couple far closer to home (like in San Mateo), but it’s the first I’ve been to a Lego store.

And then there were, of course, the tastes of childhood that I haven’t had in decades.

I went on a couple rides, M got to visit the American Girls doll shop as she’d wanted to do since being a slip of a gel, and everyone was happy.

Then on the way home we got hit by the motorcycle while waiting at a stop sign. And yes, you read that the right was around. Stay alert out there, riders. And thus was some stress introduced into the journey.

Not wanting to drive around with a busted tail light we swapped out rental cars on Tuesday as we passed through Minneapolis on our way to our true destination of South Dakota. Further purified by some spring monsoons paired with lightning the lakes (there are 10,000 of them in MN, dontcha know?) and steep hills slowly gave way to the plains and rolling farmland, not to mention other things found only in those parts, like The Happy Chef:

Or the Kum & Go. We stopped for Kum & Go shwag because, yes, we are that lowbrow sometimes.

Late Tuesday evening, however, we arrived at my brother’s just out side of Sioux Fall, SD; our launching point for the meat of the OHT2010. Pizza followed, along with catching up with the other half of that half of my family, and then to bed to prepare for a lot more wandering around miles on Wednesday and Thursday in Mitchell (where I was born) and Vermillion (where I grew up) respectively.

5AM is an ugly time to be awake. There are 5 hours in 5AM, and 5 fingers in a balled up fist that’s on its way to lay you out, and I don’t think this is a coincidence.

Needless to say, I’m not a morning person.

But the journey began anyway. The Old Homestead Tour 2010, a one-week journey into the past, had begun; and with a painful start. Painful as in 5AM painful. Painful as in mimosas-at-OAK-are-$12-a-pop painful. Painful as in kicking off with a 4 hour flight to Chicago before catching a connecting flight painful.

I know, $12. Seriously.

I admit M had the worst of it. She ended up directly in front of the little seat-kicking hid on the 4 hour leg, and next to too-much-perfume woman on the connector from Midway to Minneapolis. But then she got to sleep about 12 hours that night, so I think that made everything a little better.

The 22oz. orgasmically good prime rib I had that night made my world a little better. I was back in country where beef is king, and I loves me the dead cow.

Sunday was then spent catching up with family; some of the other offspring of my mother who I have generally only seen at weddings and funerals a few times over the course of the last 10-15 years. It was the annual re-lighting of the Christmas tree, and an annual event not to be trifled with. There were even tacos.

Now I should take a moment to mention to my California readers that there are, needless to say, some cultural differences between the Great Plains states, and say… the more metropolitan states. It is a diverse melting pot of Irish, Scandanavian, German, and Native American roots, with Italian, Mexican, Greek, and other influences that have appeared over the years.

None of this explains, however, how it began that our mother thought that a burrito was made by smearing hamburger on half of a flower tortilla and then folding it in half like a taco before frying it in oil.

We really have no idea how this came about, but it’s strangely tasty, and I hadn’t had one in a good 20 years.

“Supper” completed, it was time for the tree.

I wish I had had my camera ready to get the full effect, but as I had the honor of lighting the bonfire (with a blowtorch) and then after it was good and warmed up dumping the Christmas tree onto the flames to relight it. The tree, once 8 feet of pine cut by hand just before Thanksgiving, was now 6 months later 8 feet of extremely dried sap-filled pine covered in thousands of tiny matchstick-like needles.

Oh yes, it burned.

The flames swarmed into a 20-foot column of swirling chaos, a maelstrom of unleashed energy that reached heavenward in a mad dance of unconfined destructive potential.

Thankfully the neighbors weren’t home.

However by the time I had cleared the blast radius and gotten my camera ready the flames had dropped to about half their glory of just moments earlier, and that is the picture I have for you today.

Monday morning has dawned sunny and clear, and as soon as we can get rolling we’re going to be heading up the road into the heart of Minneapolis to take a gander at the heart of the Land of 10,000 Lakes.

Well, actually heading East, not West, so it’s not so much casting off as getting in a cab to head to the airport…

Be that as it may, tomorrow kicks off the 2010 Old Homestead Tour! 7 wonder-filled days of heading back to the Midwest to visit some family and some of the parts I grew up in!

Yeah, OK, so not so much Wonder! involved, but it should be fun. M’s coming along for the ride which marks the first time I’ve ever taken a girlfriend anywhere to voluntarily meet family, so that’s sort of saying something right there. And it’ll be the first time in over a decade that I’ll be back for something that isn’t a wedding or funeral, so hey, break out the champies on that!

Anyway, stay tuned over the next week for exciting updates about our tour through Minnesota and South Dakota. They’ll really be exciting. No, really!