Brutus went for a haircut today. No, there is not a groomer in this small historic town of Medora but just twenty miles west lies the hamlet of Beach. I refer to these places as such due to their one small grocery, a flock of houses, and the local filling station. Bordering mammoth Montana, it’s the closest place we could find for his sartorial pursuits. However, getting there proved to be another new finding to me. Entering interstates out here in the West is quite different from what I’m used to seeing. One can be driving along an asphalt road and then suddenly it turns to a reddened-hued dirtway. This is commonplace out here in North Dakota. And then all of a sudden there’s interstate 94 just ahead and the entrance ramps once again turning to asphalt. Just another small culture shock for this learning gypsy from the East.