Traveling across southern South Dakota yesterday, we finally stopped in Murdo, SD, for the evening. It was intentional, since we’d seen billboards for the Pioneer Auto Museum in Murdo; and Earl loves antique autos.
We stayed at a Best Western motel; and while it looked like a motel from the fifties it was really most comfortable. The clerk at the desk suggested we would find libations and delicious food at the Buffalo Restaurant and Bar. I will say the clerk got the libation part right, but the fried chicken was inedible. We brought no doggie bags home.
This morning we rose, dressed, and went in search of the Pioneer Auto Museum. It was just a couple miles up the road. We turned into the parking lot and looked at each other. The attraction looked as if it had had its better day and we were going to pay an admission fee to verify it. We paid it anyway, and spent an hour visiting twenty-two buildings of someone else’s idea of automotive treasures.
We’ve decided one thing. If the attraction has the word “Pioneer” in first place, then we will pass from now on. The Pioneer Auto Museum was just a collection of cars and motorcycles and farm implements and other collections that were in their natural state of decomposition. We’ve been there before when we visited the Pioneer Village in Minden, NE. And, even though the attraction didn’t start with the word “Pioneer,” the Old Trail Town in Cody, WY, had the same vibe.
Old . . . pioneer . . . historic. These are all code for junk.
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