Okay, so first of all, how is it
possible that in my hometown of Monroe, Michigan, where nothing has
ever happened in the history of ever, I visit, and then THREE DAYS
LATER Stephen Colbert hosts the public access TV show and has Eminem
on as his guest?!?? It's a scandal!!! It's an outrage!!! (p.s. Don't watch this until you finish reading the blog because you will forget to come back.)
Wednesday, July 1: When last we met, we had just climbed
the bluffs above the Mississippi River Valley in Minnesota. We then
continued on to the middle of South Dakota, and camped at a
campground on the Missouri River where they have a tiki bar. I
ordered a pina colada because it is a tiki bar, but there WERE NO
CUTE LITTLE UMBRELLAS to go in my umbrella drink. The struggle
continues, my friends. It continues. We arrived at this
tiki-bar-havin' campground in early afternoon and were greeted by a
campground manager screaming
at us because we weren't supposed to be there. It turns out that at
some point her computer had crashed and she had lost a great quantity
of reservation info. And so she was greeting every person who arrived
(that she didn't know to expect, because she lost their information)
by screaming at them
and making it clear that they weren't welcome. Peculiar, because
South Dakotans as a rule are friendly to a fault.
That
night I tried riding my bike on a bridge over the Missouri River into
the next town and was at the apex of the bridge when I realized that
the “bike lane” was now six inches wide, and the guardrail was
half the height of my tire. So after a brief moment of panic where I
envisioned myself still attached to the bike but in the water, I
hopped off, and walked my bike back down the bridge. And every single
pickup truck driver (which is everybody, because, ya know, South
Dakota), whether they were male or female, young or old, white or
just nearly white, slowed down to make sure I was safe, gave me a
wave and a smile, and continued past. And not one single person
scowled or honked or got crabby because I was completely in their
way. South Dakota.
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| The view from our campsite on the Missouri River |
Thursday,
July 2, we woke up to
another fantastic downpour that gave us another fantastic lakefront
view from our camper. (If you don't get it yet, our camper has been
swamped every frickin' morning of the trip. The day starts by
stepping down into cold water that usually isn't terribly clean or
pure.)There have been two times that we have traveled out west and
had every single place we visited or wanted to visit be in the midst
of a massive forest fire. In fact, in Glacier National Park, they
simply refer to that massive 2003 fire as “The Burn”, although a
few of the old-timers still call it “That time the Gownezios came
to visit.” Anyway, it seems like this year we bring the flood.
Every place we go. I would suggest that it seemed like a Noah-level
event, except that the only thing more horrible to imagine than a
gigantic flood destroying the world would be that movie starring
Russell Crowe with the flood and the stone monsters and just the
worst thing ever. But I (as usual) digress.
Two
things were noteworthy on this morning: One is that I started the
truck as I often do with the windows down and began pulling out of
the campsite. Those of you who continue to not only read the blog but
pay attention know that
- My windows are down
- The kayaks are on top of the truck
- It has poured rain all night long
- The aforementioned rain has collected by the many, many gallons-full all night long in the aforementioned kayaks
- I really, really should know better by now
Therefore,
ergo, hilarity ensued. I only wish I could have seen myself,
screaming no, no, NO, NO, NOOOO
as the window
slooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooowly went
up. You might think your car windows move up or down slowly. You
really have no idea.
The
second most wonderful thing that happened is that Jerry had his very
first poopmergency with the brand-new RV. A poopmergency in which he
had to acquire a plunger. And in which as he plunged, he didn't
realize that he would need to open the flush valve in the toilet. An
RV toilet is really a simple thing. Poop goes in, you step on a pedal
that opens a trap door, poop goes down. It's like poop magic. But if
you plunge without stepping on that pedal, then you are adding the
pressure of the plunger to the toilet that is already full. Of poop.
I will give you a moment to visualize that, laugh, retch, and laugh
again. And, if needed, please feel free to retch a second time.
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| Um, nice teeth |
We
drove west across South Dakota, in love with the fact that it looked
like South Dakota with its prairie grass and ranches and rolling
hills and puffy clouds on blue skies. If you've been to South Dakota,
you know what I'm talking about. We stopped at Badlands National Park
for what I think was my tenth visit there, but the kids didn't
remember it. The kids and I scrambled on rocks while Liz supervised
and Jerry and Kathy went on a short hike. We were fortunate enough to
get into the visitor center while the fossil lab was open for
visitors and got to see a bunch of cool stuff, including the skull of
a cat-like predator that a 7-year-old girl had discovered while on a
Junior Ranger program. And the highlight was when the ranger went
into the storage closet to show Izzie the saber-toothed tiger skull.
The Gowfolk stopped for a lovely hour of camper shopping (one of our favorite pasttimes) in Rapid City and then we all met up to begin our weeklong residence at the Rafter J Bar Ranch in the Black Hills.
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| The view from our campsite at the Rafter J |
On
Friday, July 3,
we began by driving on the Needles Highway. This is an incredible
sightseeing road, but it does not agree with my children's stomachs.
FLASHBACK:
When Liz and I drove to Montana in Jerry and Kathy's first RV in
1997, we stopped in the Black Hills. We looked at the map, and saw a
shortcut – the Needles Highway. By the time we realized our error,
there was nowhere to turn around, and the onlt way was forward. I
ended up driving this RV on a hairpin-turning cliffside road for 20
miles. But then there were the tunnels. The smallest of these is 8'4”
wide. The RV was 8' wide, allowing me 2 inches on either side for the
entire length of the tunnel. Not. A. Scratch. Except for on my
psyche. When I cleared that tunnel and came to the end of the road I
pulled over and wept. And my blood pressure is up just thinking about
it.
But
on this past Friday, we drove Needles to the trailhead for Lovers'
Leap, a scenic first “real” hike with lots of beautiful scenery.
Saturday
was our anniversary, as Liz and I got married on the 4th
of July
in 1998. We gazed into each others' eyes and said “Awww, there'll
always be fireworks.” But what getting married on July 4 really
means is it that you will almost never be able to find a good
restaurant open on your anniversary. And your kids will always want
to stay up really, really late. But at least we are almost always
someplace really, really cool on our anniversary. On Saturday morning
we completed our first successful separation of the Gowmans and the
Conezios. Jerry and Kathy went on the Prairie Ridge hike, which is
the first hike we ever did on our first family trip out west in 2002.
FLASHBACK
#2:
Our first extended
family trip out west in 2002 was really stressful. Just this week we
have been thinking about it and the reasons why we may have been on
edge. I believe I have pieced together our first week:
Day
1 – Rochester to Ohio/Indiana: While driving down I-90, THE
WINDSHIELD FALLS OUT OF THE RV. I am not making this up. For repairs,
Jerry and I climb on the roof of the RV. He holds me by my ankles,
upside-down off the roof of the RV, while I duct tape the windshield
back in.
Day
2 – Ohio/Indiana to Chicago: Within 3 minutes of Jerry asking me to
drive the RV, it begins to lose power as we ascend the Chicago Skyway
Bridge. It breaks down dead, at rush hour, on a Friday, where several
major highways all converge. And we are in the left lane, with no
shoulder. All occupants of the RV including toddler Gabe and dog Nala
climb out the driver's window and wait for rescue.
Day
3 – RV can't be repaired. Kathy says, “ I've waited my whole life
for this trip and we've planned it for a year. I'm not going home.”
Jerry says, “Do you take American Express?”
Day
4 – Pickup the new RV
Day
5 – In Minnesota, a tornado nearly drops on our campground and we
are forced to take shelter in , coincidentally, the only RV
campground tornado shelter we are aware of.
Day
6 – Upon arriving in South Dakota, we take our first ever
group/family hike at Prairie Ridge. And get lost. And then the
thunderstorm. And then the hailstorm.
But
now, back to the present...
And
while Jerry and Kathy hiked Prairie Ridge, the Gows went kayaking at
Stockade Lake, the largest of several dammed man-made lakes in Custer
State Park. And it was awesome, except that there were powerboats
with tubers (kids on tubes, not potatoes), and teenagers driving
jet-ski's at full speed between our two kayaks. So it wasn't actually
awesome. But maybe it was.
We
reformed the Gownezio Clan and headed over to French Creek, famous
because this is where Custer's 1872 expedition found gold, leading to
the Black Hills gold rush, the breaking of treaties, the escalation
of war with the Sioux, etc., etc., etc. Hey, what would General
Custer be famous for if he was still alive today? His
age.
Buh-dum boom. Now, French Creek is the natural area in Custer State
Park where you can't take cars or trucks or even jet-ski's. But there
are 51 creek crossings in 12 miles. So we put on the Tevas and went
exploring. It was great fun. As we hiked across a meadow, we saw two
sets of ears perk up, and then in a burst of speed saw a big
coyote go after a deer.
And
today, July 5, we
went on a serious
hike, Sunday Gulch, which was only 4 miles long but had us climbing
over, above, around, and through a cascading river through much of
it. First hike we've done in a while that was labeled “strenuous”.
Funny thing about the kids is that the more challenging the hike is,
the more they love it. Their grandparents don't necessarily enjoy the
technical scrambling and climbing quite as much, and it's possible
that there was some deception involved in getting their Poppy on this
hike.
It
has threatened to rain and thunderstorm every day since we arrived
here in the Black Hills and it finally has. Tonight, I found myself
cooking burgers over a wood fire in a downpouring thunderstorm.
To
be continued...
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