These stairs aren't Walter Payton's hill, but they're still my personal nemesis. I love 'em and hate 'em at the same time.
They continue on up, well out of camera range. And they're directly across the street from - and in full view of - The Great Plains' main tourist hotel, though that's not saying much. I'm sure I provide the guests and bar-sitting denizens lots of good, free, stumbling, cursing entertainment.
Luckily, a glass wall insulates them from what I'm REALLY saying as I chug up and down, something along the lines of "Rippin', zippin', flippin', rotten, zarg barg-a-fling-dong." Yeah, that's it. Totally.
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