There and Back Again

So here's my day today, Friday, July 10: Wake up, and fight the daily battle about getting the camper closed up and ready to go. But finally everybody's moving, and chipping in, and super helpful. And the only thing left to do is dump the tanks. Tank 1: Check. Tank 2: We pull the release valve, listening excitedly as we hear the rush down the pipe, sounds like Niagara Falls, works every time! And then it happens. Not at all unlike Old Faithful, except this wasn't spring water from the deep recesses of the Earth. I ask you to again refer to your copies of the movie RV. You see, whatcha need here is a hose spreader. (Dontcha know.) And the sewer has some kind of blockage and if you put in more than just a middling amount, more than just a trickle, more than just a trifling, piddling, insignificant bit, then a terrible, horrible, in-con-theiv-able fate awaits. And so I had Gabe working the valve (as a crowd started to gather and offer advice, just like in RV) and I would coach him: Alright, now less, less, less, okay, just a smidge more, more, just a – NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! And then suddenly there would be a huge regurgitation onto the lawn. And did I mention that in order to gauge the flow, I got to hold the poopchute in my hand and watch how full the sewer was while it filled? Awesome.

Our trusty Lord Commander goes everywhere with us.
He even goes into the Rolex store. Why?
FOR THE WATCH!!!
(too soon?)

But finally we got it taken care of and got packed up and I scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed my hands and we started the campers moving. I stopped at the office to let the owners know that it was okay and I wasn't upset, but there was something really really really really wrong with the sewer in site #5 and they should have a look at it. And the lady actually looks at me with a straight face and acts as if it must be my fault. Because maybe I dont know how to dump the poop tank. Because why shouldn't you have to stand there with the poophose in your hand watching to see how splattered you can get while filling the poophole? Because isn't Kamping fun? See you in hell, Hardin KOA.

But then things start looking up as we start a very short drive, only 17 miles to our exit, to see Pompeys Pillar. Incidentally, Pompeys Pillar, like Devils Tower, does not use an apostrophe. This offense has caused Grammar Reservist Gabe to be called up for active duty on the Grammar Police. It is quite upsetting for him. Anyway... it's only 15 minutes to the exit and we make it seven before Montana Fish & Game is there with a mandatory boat inspection. And I tooooooootally get why they do this, but I think the two of them just really needed somebody to talk to and so they were making it a legal requirement for people to stop and talk to them instead of just meeting creepy strangers online like everybody else does.

Anyway... we finally get back on the highway for the remaining eight minutes to our exit. I know this is going to be a great road to take between I-90 and I-94 because it cuts the triangle and it must be okay to drive because it's on the state map. (For those of you following along in your atlas, it's exit 478 off of I-90.) Here's where you cue the sad clown horn: Wah-wah... Because since it's Montana, EVERY road is on the state map. Including this one, that seems to have been hewn this very morning from the bare earth with shovels and pick axes. Jerry reaches the exit and exclaims over the walkie-talkie “I'm not driving on that!” but for me it is much too late. And so I had to execute a perfect K-turn with the Suburban and 35-foot trailer onto a patch of dirt that was eight feet wide (exactly the wheelbase of the trailer). Nailed it. (With Gabe's help, he would like me to mention.) Only took 15 or 20 minutes to turn around. And then we were on our merry way to Pompey[']s Pillar.

Now you may be thinking to yourself, I'm one of the two people who actually reads this blog, and I remember that they were going from the Black Hills of South Dakota to Grand Teton National Park. As I gaze upon my trusty atlas, it looks like they should be traversing through Wyoming, going through Cody to get to Grand Teton. Why in the world are they so far north? Why are they in Montana? It seems like they have gone a full day's drive and hundreds upon hundreds of miles out of their way. I don't understand. It doesn't make sense! Why would anybody ever do that?!? Well, it's good that you've asked. You see, one of our gallant party suggested it would be worth our while to drive down the Beartooth Highway, often referred to as The Most Beautiful Road in America. It's really a spectacular drive, and it's the Northeast entrance to Yellowstone. So we came all the way around to Red Lodge, Montana, the entrance to the Beartooth Highway. And the first thing out of the lady's mouth when we walked into the campground office was “Hi! Y'all aren't planning to drive those things on the Beartooth Highway, are you?!?!? 'Cause you are waaaaaayyyyyy too big to drive on that road.”

That's Capt. Clark's signature behind her.
Yes, she is pink.
"It'll just be a streak", says her mother.

This is that moment where I want you to please refer to the Gownezio blog addendum entitled Ferris Bueller's Day Off, noting the section where Cameron freaks out. This scene approximates my emotional state at this precise moment. I may have been catatonic at pool's edge.

In between these three spectacular moments we stopped for haircuts and grocery shopping (Lewis & Clark would have call it “foraging”, but I'm a lot tougher than that). And since we are preparing to go into the wilds, we spent enough money at Wal-Mart that I am certain they are now paying their employees an honest living wage. I'll have to check on that later. Tonight, we had an amazing dinner at the Red Lodge Cafe. And we also really did make it to Pompeys Pillar, which is a rock. It is a super-famous rock, because a dude in buckskin graffitied on it. A whole bunch of other dudes also wrote graffiti on it for the next 100 years, completely obliterating all of the pre-existing Native American graffiti. Just don't graffiti it now, because that would be graffiti, and what those guys did is history.

I am oversimplifying the P.P. experience a bit, because they have really made this into a fantastic place for visitors to learn about Lewis and Clark's expedition, as well as the effect the expedition had on the west and especially the SE Montana/Yellowstone River area. I really enjoyed the painting depicting Custer and the 7^th Cav's 1873 visit to Pompey's Pillar when all the dudes were swimming nekkid in the water but then suddenly the Sioux all show up and start shooting (laughing their heads off, in the painting at least), but everybody's in their birthday suits. And they've gotta haul ass out of the water and jump on their horses and grab their rifles and, well, everybody's still just completely naked. I'm happy to say that I've never been shot at, but I am still certain that it was absolutely terrifying in the moment. But I'll bet even those cavalrymen had a good laugh about it once they got away. And got their pants on. Fun fact.... Clark and his team did 70 miles a day down the Yellowstone River in a catamaran that they made out of two canoes that they just chopped with axes out of two cottonwood trees. That's hard core. Or perhaps I say should “Hard Corps” because they're the Corps of Discovery. Yeah, that'd be clever because knowledge and stuff. #HardCorps

Yesterday was also a bunch of fun, although it was a very long day in the car. We left the western-most edge of SD and moved into the eastern-most edge of Wyoming, which is like ¾ of an inch on the map but three hours in real life. But we finally made it to Devils Tower and did an awesome 2.8 mile hike around it. And so naturally last night and tonight we introduced the kiddos to Close Encounters of the Third Kind (“Hey Dad, these special effects aren't too bad, considering this movie is almost as old as you are”) which was great fun for the whole family.

Tomorrow we drive through Cody (yes, Cody, on route 16, where we were two days ago) into the eastern entrance to Yellowstone and then down into Grand Teton.