If It’s Doomsday This Must Be South Dakota

I have one vague memory of South Dakota, from the big road trip. We may have pulled into a border town and encountered a dude. He looked at us.. we looked at him. It was cloudy, dark. The land was barren, seemed mining or oil, possibly industrial nearby. A few small houses, placed asymmetrically, had no vegetation around their edges. He turned his head, and spit. He didn’t spit directly at us. But we got it. The road, that led us in, took us out.