That’s not a rhetorical question. It’s the question of a woman who realized the other day that I am in a Dr. Who episode. Actually, Philip, Murray, and I are starring in an entire season. The Rocky is our Tardis! Inside, it’s always the same, but when I step out in the morning to walk Murray, I am often surprised.
If we don’t stay in the same place for longer than a single night over the course of a few nights in a row, it is disorienting. It’s also fun. I wake up and try to think about what the campground or boondocking spot looks like outside and come up utterly confused.
Murray’s attitude is to jump out and explore. What a great life he is having with so many new smells and sights. But he seems to be as reassured as I am to go indoors and find our familiar home.
So, the answer to my question — Where am I? — was Iowa. To be precise, Brushy Creek Recreation Area, a state park in Lehigh.
Iowa is one of the mildest places to visit. I am sure a lot happens there, but not to us. Luckily. It was rather nice, to tell you the truth.
We drove in, stayed, relaxed, and drove out the other side into South Dakota.
We saw a lot of fields and we saw this amazing truck stop, proclaiming itself to be the “World’s Largest Truckstop,” on Iowa 80.
We saw corn, and found the Dragoon Trail. 
And remember how I was looking for frozen custard? Well, I didn’t find it. But I did get Chik-Fil-A. The workers there were hands-down the nicest people I have ever met in a fast-food place. (That was, until I found frozen custard, but that’s another story.)