Once back, we were on the road for real. We passed Stanley, and some other small little farm buckets. When we got on the downside of Lowman, we stopped at a hot-spring. This is Sandra's favorite pastime, we she rushed into the swim trunks and rocketed to the river for a dip (which she tried to classify as a bath). I followed as far as the rocks got slippery. Some woman was hogging the trail afraid to go down, so I tried to go another route. Bad Idea! I slipped, fell and again re-injured my knee. Words were said! I headed back to the RV where I knew there was a fridge full of recovery drinks. I downed one, while cussing. Then cussing some more.

Sandra was back not to long after the mishap. On the road, our final stop was Boise. Albeit, we chose highway 21 as it takes us past spring shores so we could check on the boat. Soon, we have to pull it out of water, and I was worried somewhat that would arrive and see our boat sitting on dry land surrounded by two dozen people laughing about the "dumbasses" who didn't get the boat out of the water on time. Fortunately, we have about two weeks before the "event", so my leg should be a bit healed to do some of the labor.

Here it is. 14 days later, we're rolling through downtown Boise at 5:30pm. The Cashen-Williams's always ends up somehow in traffic hour when we're stone tired. Pulled up to the house, and spent about an hours extracting all our stuff that went along for the ride. Next the restoration and cleaning of the "Floating Brick".

For now, I'm showered, shaven, wrapped and having a Dagger Falls IPA doing not much. All in all, Good Ride!

Here it be. We woke up in Missoula and it was nice and cold. My favorite kind of mornings. Only thing that got me rolling was the smell of coffee somewhere within the RV. Not quite fair, wanted to sleep in more, but now I had to rise for the goods. This was the day we planned to hit the Rattlesnake NRA (Not Rifle related). We drove about 5 miles north of town and hit the trailhead. This was some nice trails, it was wooded and gradually rising. The gradual turned into accelerated climbing until I was hiking and biking and wheezing. It was an awesome trail, but tough. Then Sandra thought she heard a bear...so we turned around; which was good with me. We did about 1700ft elevation climb in less than two hours, so yeah, I'm kinda done.

This is also the day we pushed into Idaho. We left Missoula and headed due south till we hit the boarder. Not without repeating the Bitterroot climb and descend. This time we were waaaay more cautious on the down, and took our time coming off the pass. We Found that Idaho actually was one of the most scenic parts of the trip. We drove along the bitterroot and salmon river till we hit a campground north of Challis. We camped along the river, mad some hotdogs and packed it all up into the RV once we were done. We kept an eye on the sky, as it appeared that we were going to get a big storm. When it hit, we had just finished dinner and packed in all the outdoor gear. It was quite a show, directory over us. The thunder shook the RV a bit, and the downpour was torrential. That was OK, as we still had a bottle of wine and no worries of waking up in a puddle of water. Tomorrow, we will be home.

It was 3am when we heard it. The sound of 8 fast shots from a handgun somewhere in our remote campsite. Can't a guy just catch some sleep for god’s sake. In any case, it's not something one hears that often unless at the range (for us city boys anyway). Bang! another shot 20 minutes after. I resolved that it had to be an animal somebody in a tent was trying to scare off...but I don't remember any tents in the area. So I then assumed it was a murder suicide and went back to bed; but with the Colt 38 by my pillow just in case. We woke tired in the morning after this; but that is no deterrent for Sandra, how steadfastly got us ready for our bike ride at 10am. I remember swearing that I would never do a ride before noon...but, at this point, let's get this ride over with and on the road so we don't have to become a Chicago statistic.

The ride along the Continental divide was both hilly and rocky. Two things that do not go well together for those hovering in their 60's. I kept favoring my knee with the bursitis, and the left lung, which is my favorite. We must have gotten two miles in when it was just too much hiking and biking and it just wasn't the thrill we'd hoped for. So, we took some other adventures trails to get our workout ride in.

It wasn't but a couple hours to Missoula where we had a down day touring the town. Very hippy college town from what we could derive. Pretty clean and lots of pubs and eateries. We did a little hopping around before settling in on the Iron Horse for more Buffalo burgers. The mountain climate is much cooler that the badlands, so we aren't having to click the AC on that much. We're now back at our KOA and relaxing. Tomorrow we head to the Rattlesnake trails for maybe our last Mountain-Bike ride before heading on back to Boise for a real shower. I wasn't going to mention the KOA shower here, but since you brough it up. I can only describe it as standing under a hose where water doesn't actually come out, but you can hear the promise of it somewhere down the pipe. Only to have it eventually hit your face at a comfortable 45 degrees. At this point, one takes what one can get.

Not much of a hop from Great Falls to Helena. It was pretty much up and go...sadly, I missed my shower; but nothing a paper towel and spit can't solve. Mom taught me that. We ended up doing a walk through the old part of town, had a nice heavy lunch and walked the State Capital Building. We may have been the only two people in the building, yet buy gosh...that mask had to be on! We decided to push through Helena and get a little on the path to Misula. Along the way we stopped at Cromwell Dixen Camp Ground and decided to stay the night there before Misula. The idea being we do some mountain-biking in the morning before a 2 hour trip to the next place. We can definitely see that we're heading on home as we had a huge climb to the continental divide, which means Idaho is somewhere close on the other side.

So to begin with, all horror stories start out with a very pleasant beginning. A group of young adults heading off to the hills for their very first group camp outing. Only, one-half-hour in, after all the playful flirting and bravado, the killer shows up to send them into panic. This is my day. It all started fine. Sandra and I woke up after a good night’s sleep, headed down to the KOA center and got ourselves some FREE pancakes! I thought this was setting the tone. We then bicycled downtown about 4 miles to the Charley Russell Museum where we saw a bunch of paintings of cowboys and Indians. It was a pretty big venue, so we must have spent over an hour there. By the way, I got approached by a Mask-Nazi who apparently said that just having it over my chin was not sufficient. hmmm, Remember when we were free?

OK, so the horror story starts here, after we get out of the Museum and head down to the leisurely green-belt for a nice little bike-ride, or so I thought. Start out great, we were heading down the Missouri River dropping down into single-tracks, and catching some great views of the Dams along the way; we must have hit 4 Dams; Damn! About 13 miles down the trail it occurred to me that I only had 1.5 liters of water in my bag, and we were doing a lot of ups-and-downs. The temp was around the low 90's so I wasn't too concerned until my little lizard brain put the math together, and came up with "where out 13 miles, and need to go back UP river". I suppose, this discovery was why I did not get into a top-tier Technical school like MIT or Caltech. The good news I was not out of water yet, but I raised the RED flag to Sandra about my back-of-the-envelope discovery. She didn't seem to worried, and wanted to do more on the trail. So, she had 3 Liters of water, and was ready to head through more of the ride. I put my foot down and said like a gentleman "I want to go home now". So we did, but not without a little nod of "dang, I wanted to do more". Not but a mile or so, there it was, that dry slurp of the last bit of water from My Camels-bak. Now, I knew I was being chased by a serial-killer of drought and heat. As we peddled and peddled and peddled, it was getting more dire; Since Sandra had 1.5 liters more than me, she split it up so that I could have a chance to someday write another Ugly Chronicle. For what seemed hours, moving slowly back along the trails, and then ultimately the paths. The Missouri river off to the right and down the steep canyon was looking more tasty. Ultimately, heat exhaustion did set in with Nausea and head-aches, but thankfully that old Williams cowboy blood came through and kept me going. We finally ended up back in Great Falls and hit the first water hole we could find. It turned out to be a double-wide trailer converted into a Diner that normally, we would pass by and raise an eyebrow too (yeah, I know. A little elitist). But, Brother it was there, and I ran into the place yelling "Give me all the water you got!". What a reprieve! It was like the Sheriff showing up to save us from our demise of the situation we put ourselves in. At this point, only 5 miles back to the motor home. It was still slow going, but once there, I must have finished off all the water and all the beers I had left. Funny, Sandra experienced none of this....maybe she was watching a different movie.

So to recap last night, Sandra and I went to a musical in an outdoor amphitheater. She said it's only a mile up the road from our camp, so I was expecting a nice little peddle to the place in my nice newly washed clothes. Unfortunately, I didn't hear the emphasis on the UP part. It was a mile all up-hill where the sweat started pouring after a quarter mile. We sauntered into the venue where I suppose the strange looks I was receiving had to do with the sweat extruding through my now, needs to be washed clothes. The venue for this small little town was unusual. Unusual in the sense I would expect the type of production in a major city. They had escalators running down into the amphitheater hole. Escalators! We're in Medora North Dakota, Population 100! Founded by some French guy no less. Musical was upscale nice, lot of great production, and man! Do they have it down to exactly 1.5 hours. Must be a German coordinator on site.

After the event it was pitch black. We were on bikes. Cars where...well, bigger. We waited until just about all cars, trailers and RV's had emptied the parking lot, then we coasted down the Torture Mile. Luckily I had kept some bike lights in my pack, so we were at least visible to the near sited 90 year old probably behind us as he waited for the parking lot to empty. Back in our camp, the temperature started to be reasonable, so we did not have to turn on the AC.

I recapped mostly last night, because after we did our routine (fill water tank, empty holding tanks, fill gas), we were on our way to Montana. We encountered along the way a bit of Sandra's historical ancestry with a town called Beach. Just to get it out of the way, no there was no beach, and I believe the closest body of water is 200 miles away. But, it turns out that Beach is where her Grandmother grew up. We pulled off and went into the town where there were no escalators...or singing too. Remember Footloose...this could be the genesis. Through serendipity found the church she went too, and wouldn't you know it, the care keeper was around and helped Sandra find the Graveyard plot so she could touch upon the past. We found it! We Saw it! and pictures were taken.

After that, we discovered Montana...the hard way. The wind was in our face, the roads were put together as an afterthought to comfort and there was a lot of grass. I mean a lot of grass, and nothing else. It was 6.5 hours before we hit Great Falls, and my hands had to be peeled off the steering wheel from the kung-foo grip I had on it. We are staying in another KOA, as we really liked the last one stayed. This one is even nicer--tucked between two shady trees, the temperature is closing in on 80, and the hot dogs are about the come out--following the recovery beer that is already helping the recovery.

Thought I'd get an early jump on the Chronicles today. As we're in a nice little lull of peacefulness. We got out and did another Mountain bike ride; 12 miles through a trail called ‘Maah Daah Hey’ (Turtle or something). It was somewhat of a trick to find the trailhead and as my Strava tracking application is going to look pretty weird with all the circling and retraced paths. Once we found it, it was pretty nice. Rolling through a single-track trail; crossing over some river; then climbing uphill to the plateau's. Sandra was bike-ready, as she hit the hills pretty effortlessly. I achieved self-induced asthma trying to keep the tunnel-vision in check. Thankfully, I'm back here jotting this recap out. Otherwise, there's another folder I keep for my obituary. I'm glad you're reading this instead. Anyway, at the top, it was a nice cruise downhill straight into the campsite; so all's well that ends at the start.

During the wind down, I cracked the beer (it is Friday after all), and we pooled our clothes, and am now washing all that has been dirtied for the week. We have one week left on the odyssey, and it would be nice to end up back in Boise wearing the last pair of clean undies. Once the laundry is clean, and we're showered up, we'll be hitting a "musical" in a big outdoor Amphitheatre. Seems downright civilized for a RV pair on the run. Tomorrow, I'll regale this evenings goings on.

Leaving the badlands after first purging our bad water ;) Loaded up with Fuel, Water and Almonds, we're ready for the trek to North Dakota. To be honest, I have no idea where we are or where we're going. Sandra is in charge of the itinerary, and I just point the floating brick to the next destination. Sandra got bored and decided to take both our phones and play scrabble. She was playing for me, so I was almost ready to put money on the game. At the end, she told me I lost, but I came close. I can't wait to see how good I play next time with her proxying my moves. This was to be a 6 hour drive, but turned into nearly an 8 hour one after stopping to load up on beer and fly strips. Don't know what happened at the last campsite, but we got some stowaway little irritants, who were flying by my face for the entire drive. Upon setting up the first strip; GOT ONE in the first 30 seconds. Tell your friends you little bastard.

We setup on the edge of Medora, which is a pretty nice looking place. We will definitely be using the bikes tomorrow to get around. Should be here two days purusing the Teddy Roosevelt National Park. No mountains here, but a lot of canyons with grass in them. A lot different than the dessert canyons of the Badlands.

Last night was a cooker. It's 100 degrees in the badlands, and apparenty, this is not the mountain region where it cools down at the sunset. Didn't get much sleep, but was dreaming about Glacier National Park...I hear they have ice there. Sandra and I went through the normal morning routine--one who can fake sleeping longer than the other does not have to make the coffee. Today I won! After coffee we took the ole floating brick into the park and got the bikes ready for the trek. We found a nice dirt road that runs through the park, and has a bunch of "viewpoint" turn-offs. The canyons of the Badlands were quite impressive. We ran into Pronghorn sheep, a lone buffalo and a ton of prairie dogs who will let you get up close and personal. The ride was 11.5 miles in, and I swear it was almost all downhill. I mentioned this to Sandra, but she says I must be imagining things. We get to the 11.5 miles in and turn around. Yup. That was downhill we just down hilled...the ride home is 11.5 miles UPHILL! WTF, I didn't bring enough Prunes and Almonds for this trek. Fortunately, it was only 92 degrees...so comparatively it was much cooler than when we arrive back at the RV. I raided the Fridge for all the 7up we had cooled.

Getting back to our RV site, first thing, if you remember, is to hook-up the ole power for the AC; Once that was done, I showered off the pain and grease that had accumulated throughout the day. Beer was on the menu afterward. Then more beer. We're doing some Flank-Steak tonight, which is only the 2nd day we actually cooked. Hope I didn't forget how to chew.

Last week, Sturgis SD held its 80th gathering. We took a little side venture to Sturgis after leaving Custer National Park. To our surprise it was like a ghost town. The Harley Davidson store and the Knuckle Saloon were open. So, how about a burger and beer? We had lunch in a nice upscale biker tavern and dined on the finest Bison-Burger that the National Park has to offer. Afterwards, it was to the Motorcycle museum which was probably the best museum I've been too. I was much more knowledgeable on Panheads and Knuckleheads that Davinci and paintings of dead people. I think Sandra liked it too, but I'm not so sure she was imagining being at the MoMa.

Driving to the Badlands was on good old I90. The only I90 I remember was the one through Washington, but apparently they hooked it all the way through...probably during the Union-Pacific and Mid-Atlantic railroad time.

We paid for a yearly pass to run go through the park, which may also benefit us if we head back through Montana and Glacier Park. The sound of a Glacier sounds nice about now, as it's 100 degrees in the badlands, and I'm pretty sure that is how it was coined its name. First thing upon hitting the parking break, was to run out and hook up the AC for AC. We had a short dinner and walked a bit around the park. Today was a rest day; tomorrow we're in the sun on the bikes just like High Plains Drifter only he remembered to bring a better hat.

We left the comfy spot along the highway of Harleys. We went on a quick mountain-bike ride; saw another Buffalo and some Antelope creatures. Once we pumped out the holding tanks we only had to move down 20 miles down the road to our KOA site. Low and behold you can actually build camp grounds with internet. Once we arrived, it was hook-up power, and catch up on the news and emails. We had a couple hours to get some Cheez-Its and beer down, then it was off to Mt Rushmore to see the mountain with faces. We had two hours to kill before the show started, so we walked around the trails and sweated out all that was left of our H2O (I think Sandra has been drinking water on the sly, as she was nowhere near depleted as me). Show was nice, and in the age of Covid, it was also nice to see patriots without face diapers on...ahhh, the America I remember. We're back at the site now, and having a little beer night-cap. Tomorrow....the badlands.

Woke to the sound of motorhomes rolling out of the park (yes we are in South Dakota finally). Suppose that's what one would expect on a Sunday and the weekend campers have to get back to the grind. We had another idea of mountain-biking today; a different grind. Started out at 10am and cruised along a nice bike path (very civilized) toward the Custer State Park Center. We encountered a herd of Buffalo, Bison or Titonka (depending on your level of reading)...I also remembered buffalo, so...

We thought we'd just find a nice little path through them, but the Park Ranger held us back. Apparently, Buffalo to not like bicyclist, and are prone to charge them. Sounds' like antifa in Portland. They charge for no reason too. We were then thrown into the back of the park ranger pickup and deemed a "Bike Rescue"...there must me some extra federal funding involved if the term "rescue" is mentioned in the report.

Afterwards, Sandra and I headed up the highway on our bikes uphill for 4 miles; looking for a trailhead that would take us up even further. We found the trailhead and ventured up through what one could describe as a single-track-bushwhack-trail. We ended up turning around and calling it a day. My lungs were on fire at this point, and I was all eager to setup the camp table and chairs to see if it could support a beer or two--it did.

So tail-end of the night we will actually be cooking. The last two nights have been almonds and cheese on the road, with no man sustenance. Tonight hotdogs on are on the menu, and brother, the menu is meat!!

Ever wonder what brake pads smell like? It smells of fear and shame as it roasts over a 10-degree decline rolling into Jackson. Guess we took the wrong turn, but luckily as it started smoking we were able to pull over into some turn outs along the way down. We kind of remember this road when we visited Jackson Hole some six months back; but that was then, and this is day two into a 14 day odyssey floating down the highway in a 7.5 ton rambler on wheels. After we rolled into Jackson, we let the breaks cool down for an hour or so, as we hit the local TJ-Max for some supplies that we we didn't remember to bring from Day 1. Sandra gave the cold cod stare when was discovered that I did not pack her coffee cup...Opps, I remembered mine, but she was not awarding points for that.

So, the good news is the road from Jackson to just about anywhere in Wyoming is flat. But I had to wonder if anybody was getting their tax money's worth of road maintenance. I think the reservations are getting all the highway funds, and the rest is left up to the WYDOT (Wyoming Dept of Trans), to repair with hot glue-guns and spackle. At least the breaks were back to normal.

We were actually able to get a reservation on the other end of what turned out to be a 12 hour day of driving. We arrived in Custer State Park at 10:30; after rolling through the site loop a few times to locate 16A when there were only "E" parking slots. Side-note; who starts numbering at 'E'? where's the 'A' through 'C's? We found out a misprint in our reservations that sent us on this wild goose folly...buuuut, ultimately, it's 11:09pm, and I'm quaffing my long awaited beer. No driving tomorrow! Maybe for fun we'll empty the "shitter"....as Eddie would say.

Here it is...Launch day to the Dakotas. Planning couldn't have gone smoother. Our plan was to be on the road by 9am Friday, and we able leave on time at 1:50pm. This is a record for the Cashen-Williams Klan (or is it Clan, maybe Clam)...I'll leave that for another day to figure out. In any case, getting a motor home ready for a 14 day trip came down to a lot of sweat and effort. First of all, do I bring Dagger Falls IPA, or go with a hat-trick and pack the fridge with some other quafable IPA. For the record I brought Bodizofa as we are heading to the Bad Lands of South Dakota, and that sounded both cool and manly. Once packed and I had my second shower in the morning it was all pointed East.

The road trip was celebrated along the way by our typical "Did you remember". Did you remember to feed the cats? Did you remember to pack the bug-spray? Did you remember to close the garage? But it took us until 250 miles before someone asked the pertanent question of "Did you remember the cork screw?" That was almost panic, as you know it was 250 miles, and the sun was coming down.

After Idaho Falls, it was the desparate look for a camp ground so that we could utilize that cork screw we actuall did remember to bring. First stop was down a dusty ol forest road; which was dusty. We past by campsite after campsite only to have children from deliverence staring us over and wondering where is this big rig going to end up. Not in your banjo dreams little sonny. We were off and out to hopefully a less dusty and quiter location. Some miles down the road we found an old Forest Site/Children camp school that was abandoned and totally very Norman Bates level safe. At this point all I can think of was did you remember where you put the cork-screw.

So here we are setup in the corn field maybe 20 miles from the Wyoming border sipping our wine and loading the guns. But, the sunset is awesome.