“Dad, why are there so many people wearing cowboy hats?” “Out here, the land shapes the people, son.” Only, I’m no Barry Crump, so all Ryan got was something along the lines of “cos they’re all cowboys.”

The change from Kentucky and Missouri to South Dakota was marked, with rolling hills of green farmland changing to an empty land covered in prairie grass that looked as nutritious as standing hay. Crops of wheat, soy bean, corn, or sunflower occasionally interrupted the vista. There’s a wild vastness to it all that makes cities seem artificial and a rifle in the pickup cab sensible. And maybe out here, even country music about girls and headlights and broken hearts could seem right. But I still don’t understand line dancing. Mostly, we’re heading towards Yellowstone, but we do have a few essential stops along the way.

The first was an NFL football game. We stopped for the evening to watch a local college team, the University of Sioux Falls Cougars, demolish Minnesota Duluth. I don’t know what a Duluth is, but they’re not winners. At least, they weren’t at half time, when the kids had had enough, despite my interesting and witty commentary. We even tried figuring out how many complete rugby games could be fielded from the people standing on just one sideline. Our best guess was at least two full games worth, probably including refs and touch judges. No wonder it’s such a spectacle.

The next day, we rolled into a piece of literary history – the Ingalls’ family farm in De Smet. The 160 acre farm was home to Laura and the rest of the family made famous in The Little House on the Prairie. (For the far too serious, this is the farm from By The Shores of Silver Lake). Despite the wagon rides, pony rides, rope making, and other historic stuff, the kids’ almost greatest highlight of the entire trip was finding six kittens in the barn that they could play with. Oh, and we overnighted in a covered wagon, which was really awesome and they liked that too. Just not quite as much as the kittens.

Leaving the kittens behind, we headed into the Badlands. The map said it was only one mile of unpaved road to the campground, but it turned out to be about 10 miles of gravel. Luckily, I grew up in Northland. (Actually, Karen drove on the way in, luckily she grew up drifting on gravel, too). We woke to the peace that comes from being miles from everywhere on a beautiful morning, and bison wandering through the campground. School work and a wander completed, we hit the road again.

On the way to Mt Rushmore, we stopped at two icons of corniness. Wall Drug started as a little drug store in the middle of nowhere, but is now nearly an entire square block of dollar shop, cafe, museum, chapel, and gift shop – all built on customers detouring off the highway when the owners started giving away free iced water during the depression. The second was the Corn Palace in Mitchell, which is the finest example I’ve ever seen of what a committee is capable of.

Mt Rushmore was, by contrast, amazing. At the end of the day, it’s four guys’ heads in some rock. But somehow, it’s more than that. Originally derided by many as ludicrous, it took 14 years to construct, working as fast as fickle government budgets would permit, under the supervision of a sculptor with a giant sized vision, and self confidence to boot. Somehow, we ended up spending five hours here, between photos, breakfast after an early start, hiking the loop, and doing the junior ranger programme. The weirdest part was being stopped as we left by a visitor, because he didn’t know the names of all four of the faces, but he was already leaving to go back home.

This being the old west, everything is named after someone famous, and we headed to Custer State Park to camp the night before the annual Buffalo Roundup. We had an early start, knowing the queue would be longer even than an iPhone release, with some 16,000 cow watchers, all in pickups. The roundup was fun to watch, with the kids more stoked to see real cowboys and cowgirls than 1,000 buffalo being herded past.

After two days of driving, and with Yellowstone almost in sight, our Saturday ended as we limped into Cody, population 10,000 and home to only one dodgy looking RV mechanic. The warning light that came on in Montana had finally played up for real, and our best guess was a new fuel pump. Wyoming is next to Montana, but we didn’t tell the mechanic we had taken the 25,000km route to get there. Finally, on Wednesday morning we pushed off for the final four hours to Yellowstone.

Sioux Falls University playing Minnesota Duluth. I didn’t do a very good job of explaining American Football to the kids as we watched, mostly because I couldn’t figure out what was going on. What none of us could get over was the number of players on a team – Sioux Falls, South Dakota.

Blue skies and a windmill. It’s big sky country here – Ingalls’ farm, De Smet, South Dakota.

A replica of the old Ingalls’ shanty that Pa built as part of earning the land claim he had staked for the farm – De Smet, South Dakota.

Nothing like roping a calf to feel like a real cowboy – Ingalls’ farm, De Smet, South Dakota.

At the helm of the covered wagon as we drive around the Ingalls’ farm – De Smet, South Dakota.

The kids using a cool machine that would do nasty things to your fingers but is very good at removing corn kernels from the cob – the Ingalls’ farm, De Smet, South Dakota.

Using a rope spinner to make a three chorded twisted rope – the Ingalls farm, De Smet, South Dakota.

The sign was funny till Kyla fell of a Shetland pony because the girth strap was too loose. THankfully Shetlands aren’t that far from the ground to begin with, and I don’t know if they really qualify as horses – the Ingalls’ farm, De Smet, South Dakota.

Troy getting into the moment – the Ingalls’ farm, De Smet, South Dakota.

Talk about flash backs – a pedal/pneumatic reed organ like my grandparents’ church, and me playing the one song I can remember from my childhood. At the Ingalls’ farm – De Smet, South Dakota.

Our accommodation for the night at the Ingall’s farm. Partly it felt like we were paying money just to stay in an old RV, but we were all pretty excited about sleeping in a covered wagon – De Smet, South Dakota.

Sunset on the prairie. Somehow, it just felt good to be breathing and watching, and not doing much else, as the day settled itself down for the cool of the night – the Ingalls’ farm, De Smet, South Dakota.

Breakfast on the prairie. And, yes, we may have been eating when the day was already well underway – the Ingalls’ farm, De Smet, South Dakota.

The wide, wide sky of the prairie. It feels like it goes on forever, but we got to the other side eventually. I think the crop here is soy bean – De Smet, South Dakota.

The world’s only Corn Palace, since some time in the early 1900s. The murals need to replaced every now and then becuase the corn doesn’t last forever. I thought the inside would be filled with all manner of crazy corn stuff, but it’s the local council office and a multi-use facility (ie theatre and basketball court and corn murals, all in the same room) – Mitchell, South Dakota.

Corn dogs. Not really our favourite but we had to try them, especially while we were in the world’s only Corn Palace – Mitchell, South Dakota.

We stopped for some photos and an explore. But when Troy found a little snake curled up like a place mat, we cut the exploring short. We’re just too snake ignorant to know what’s a safe snake. That, and every Western I’ve watched seems to have a rattlesnake scene as soon as a cowboy falls of his horse in a landscape like this – The Badlands, South Dakota.

Our campground. It was free, too, but we had to drive for 10km on shingle road to get there. The tiny black dots in the campground are bison that have wandered in – Sage Creek Campground, The Badlands, South Dakota.

Checking out a bison that wandered into the Sage Creek Campground – The Badlands, South Dakota.

I don’t know if this guy was more comfortable around people than normal, but I ended up a bunch closer to him than I’m supposed to. He was a magnificent mound of walking steak and I really want to see if I can find some bison in the supermarket now – Sage Creek Campground, The Badlands, South Dakota.

A beautiful morning, glorious landscape, and the joy of youth. Why wouldn’t you want to jump? – Sage Creek Campground, The Badlands, South Dakota.

Troy showing off his American army base cairn. Due to all the historical sites we’ve visited, the boys now play at US-vs-Britain battles – Sage Creek Campground, The Badlands, South Dakota.

Posing with the arched cairn we built. If I can’t get work when we go home, I might go into stone masonary – Sage Creek Campground, The Badlands, South Dakota.

Wall Drug – a dollar store and historical knick knack emporium that has grown to almost a square block because in the 1930s the owners started giving away free water – Wall, South Dakota.

The front of the giant Wall Drug store – Wall, South Dakota.

I thought Bobbie-Jo was just some fictional red-neck caricature, but he’s a real person! – Mitchell, South Dakota.

Scenes from Mt Rushmore, South Dakota.

Posing in front of Mt Rushmore, South Dakota.

The ninth, and final, artist’s model of the sculpture. It is to 1:12 scale, and the pointing arm above was used to take measurements for the dynamiting and sculpting work on the mountain – Mt Rushmore, South Dakota.

Scenes from driving between Mt Rushmore and Custer State Park, South Dakota.

The easy half of the herd that was happy to go through the gate. The other half provided bonus viewing as they outran the cowboys several times – Buffalo Roundup, Custer State Park, South Dakota.

Working the herd – Buffalo Roundup, Custer State Park, South Dakota.

Maybe they were short on horses, but there seemed to be an awful lot of people in pickups doing the Buffalo Roundup – Custer State Park, South Dakota.

Scenes from the drive between the buffalo roundup and Sheridan, Wyoming.

As mid-west as it gets. I looked both ways for cars, and then again to check for cattle – Cody, Wyoming.

The 107m high wall of the Buffalo Bill dam, which bankrupted three construction companies before completion – Cody, Wyoming.

Wooden flotsam trapped against the dam wall – Buffalo Bill Dam, Cody, Wyoming.

The Boot Barn, filled with amazing boots to fit every cowgirl and cowboy’s taste – Cody, Wyoming.

Sunset at the end of our second day stuck waiting to replace the fuel pump – Cody, Wyoming.

‘C’ is for Cody. We noticed that lots of mid-west towns each had their initial in white stone on an overlooking hill like this – Cody, Wyoming.

Getting the fuel pump replaced. I guess for the distance we’ve done, we’re pretty lucky to have only had one mechanical – Cody, Wyoming.

Looking out from the top of Dead Indian Pass, as we drove from Cody to Yellowstone – Dead Indian Hill, Wyoming.