Rumour has it the out-of-towners drove straight up through the heart of Dixie, then north to the future, to the Grand Canyon in its natural state. The golden constitution claims to be the first to celebrate and discover sunshine. All of this makes a Pacific wonderland of aloha, peached to the famous potatoes in their amber waves of grain and big sky dairyland. Given the state of corn, the unbridled spirit is a sportsman’s paradise of 10,000 lakes lost in flight over wheat, where iodine is the empire of native America. It’s been said in the land of Lincoln that you’ve got a friend in beef. The flute player sounds good to me in vacationland while I drive carefully through Great Lakes splendour buoyed by hospitality that means show-me-the silver statutes already glistening in enchanted gardens of democratic keystones. The greatest snow on earth is a wild and wonderful lone star stating in full colour, before the ocean, the green mountains, and the evergreens, that the great face of the birthplace of aviation lives free or dies, while cars mate methodically in lots according to mudflapped theories illustrated with unrinsed plates.