Fish Like A Girl-WARNING fishing videos not suitable for some audiences!!!

It was around 9:00 pm on a rural road in southern North Dakota when I was asked, "You want to give up already???" after I had suggested that we turn back and just get a motel for the night upon discovering that the road to the campground we had chosen was covered in water. The Dakotas have received a high amount of rain fall this summer (unbeknownst to us who are currently melting in the 100 degree heat) so many of the rivers and reservoirs are flooded. The windshield was completely covered in dead bugs and it was very dark out, not quite dark enough though for me to miss the hundreds of hungry blood sucking mosquitoes that began to land on the windows of the Truckster as if to welcome us to this campground hell.

We agreed to disagree and I drove angrily into the blackness. Not without taking note that there are very few campgrounds in these parts because these people already live in the middle of frenching nowhere, why would they need to go camping?!?!

We found refuge at a small campground ran by the local Lyons Club in Carington, ND. They had power and water and, shocker, we were the only ones there. We left the next morning and headed directly to Devils Lake, or as we like to call it, Debils. I had already scoped out the board of tourism's website and it looked like there was loads to do there while we waited for Uncle Bob to get off work that evening and drive up. I was thrilled to learn that they had a municipal pool complete with water slide and intended on doing some swimming. Major props should be given to the web designer and ad execs who created the website as they certainly have the world fooled into thinking that the city of Devils Lake is awesome, when in fact, it is not. 

The main street was filled with empty store fronts and "for rent" signs. We had a hard time deciding where to eat as there were two whole choices. We ate a dismal lunch served to us by us even more dismal girl who did her best to feign interest in "how was everything?" The pool was closed for the season and there was nothing in town except a McDonalds packed to the gills with young Native American girls and their tweenage baby daddies. It was depressing.
In Debils we stopped at an RV dealer to purchase a replacement light for the van. Inside we found the most amazing bleached, permed mullet on a round woman with makeup that would make Tammy Faye look fresh faced. After buying the light, Kai asked the woman where one might get lunch in this town. "What kind of lunch?" she asked. "Oh just a sandwich place, you know?" "Like a sub sandwich?" she asked as her face lit up. We were hopeful and both replied with an adamant "yes". She then proceeded to give us incredibly painfully long directions back down the highway..."Well there's a Walmart you know, and just past the Walmart you'll turn left and then you'll turn right and then you'll see the Subway." It took everything in us to not burst into laughter then and there, but we managed to make it back to the Truckster. We had asked the woman for a good lunch place and after 8 minutes of detailed directions she had instructed us to a Subway chain. Classic.

Finally Bob arrived and we met up at the campground where hundreds of of people around the lake have hard-wired their fifth-wheel campers. We had plumbing and Direct TV and we had a ton of booze thanks to Jerry. I asked Bob if the town was hit hard by the recession hence the depressed downtown area, he said, "Nope, it's just Devils Lake."

We spent the next few days fishing for all that the lake had to offer, walleye, pike, and white bass. By night we partied with the locals Cokey, Swanny, Weiner, and The Indian. Clearly, no one here went by their real names. When we asked Uncle Bob what his name was, he replied, "Jerry's bitch." Jerry showed us the way of getting Rum Dumb- which was drinking several glasses full of Sailor Jerrys, Rondiaz coconut rum, and a wee splash of coke. Kai and Jerry proceeded to get Rum Dumb, while I maintained an even keel with red beers. We were given some valuable life lessons on marriage and life and Kai and Jerry both managed to stay alive despite the alcohol poisoning. We opted to not go for a drunken golf cart ride which was likely the safer choice and instead built a campfire and howled at the moon. It was becoming increasingly clear that the man who invented rum was trying to kill Jerry, and the man who invented Rum Dumb's was trying to kill Kai.

At the campfire we met neighbor Holly who shared her anxiety over a friend who was down a kidney and as her remaining kidney was not well she would likely be in need of a transplant. She was upset and nervous that if she donated her kidney to her friend that she wouldn't be able to provide a kidney to her children or grandchildren, heaven forbid they need one in the future. She was, perhaps, the nicest woman we had ever met. I couldn't help but laugh when she told me, "Well no, I don't know if I'm a match for any of them..." I suggested that she not worry about donating an organ until she knew that a) someone actually needed one, b) she was a match, and c) there was familial history of kidney disease in her family (which there wasn't). We had more to drink and moved on to lighter topics, leaving potential organ donation to another day.

After watching a fishing program back at the camper, I decided to give hosting my own show a try. It certainly could use some professional editing, and I clearly have a profanity problem, but other than that the boys here agree that I could probably get my own show on the Outdoor channel. 

 

                                          

Sunday we headed east to Grand Forks, ND where we got into some catfish on the Red River. I don't know why they call it the Red because it looked pretty brown to me... This day tried my patience to no end, I had already read my People and In Touch magazines from front to back- twice, and had only received a few  promising nibbles with no end result. I could hardly stand it. I whined, I complained, I even asked another boat if we could switch guides, they said no.

After firing my guide, Jason, twice, nearly dying of heat exhaustion, starvation, dehydration and sunburn I finally hooked into a catfish. I was so exhausted after 6 hours (felt like 18) on the river in the sun and with low blood sugar, I could barely reel the monster into the boat. Finally bruised and battered I got the fish into the vessel (with the help of my newly re-hired guide, Jason) and learned how to pick the beast up.  I tossed her back into the mighty Brown River and sat with trembling hands as my adrenaline slowed its pulse through my body. I came, I saw, I fished. My mother would be proud. 

Credits:

Videographer: Uncle Bob
Guide: Uncle Bob
Outfitter: Uncle Bob
Boat Captain: Uncle Bob
Worm Splitter: Uncle Bob

Up next, Chicago deep dish pizzas and the home of Ferris Bueller.

Welcome to Deadwood @#$%-Suckers!

Despite laundry and shower facilities, pools and wifi, sometimes it's just nicer to stay out in the weeds. We've had the best luck with small National Forest campgrounds. They're cheap, quiet, and off the grid. We stayed at the Pactola Lake campground in the Black Hills of South Dakota the following night. We needed a quiet night after all the gambling, drinking, and swearing we had done earlier in the day back in Deadwood, SD. 

We parked the Truckster and toured Deadwood's Main Street on foot. The town is essentially a series of historic hotels, 2nd rate casinos, bars and t-shirt shops where you can buy any number of items with "Sturgis" or "Deadwood" written on it, ranging from shot glasses to thong underwear. We had a Bloody Mary at the bar across from Al Swearengen's old Gem Hotel and got some tips from the local bartender on things to do and see in the Black Hills as well as some history of the town of Deadwood. We had been looking forward to the re-enactment of the murder of Wild Bill Hickok at 3:00, 5:00 or 7:00 pm that day but were a little turned off after the bartender told us about how recently real bullets had been accidentally or intentionally put in one of the guns used in a street gunfight show in a neighboring town. An investigation was still pending as a person in the crowd was actually shot in the arm and several others were grazed by the real bullets used... so we weren't too sad to find out that the Wild Bill murder show didn't play on Mondays. Instead we looked at the dummies complete with awesome wigs who were set up in the saloon just as the real men would've been the day he was shot. My favorite was the bartender in the Rod Stewart style wig who slouches innocently by while Wild Bill is about to get capped.

 We had more drinks at the opposite end of Main Street on the veranda of an old hotel. We learned that despite the HBO television series painting a rough and tumble and very offensively colorful picture of Deadwood, it was now home to a bunch of pansies. Our bartender informed us that the casinos and bars in this town would warn you after your first F-bomb and kick you out with the second. What kind of yellow bellied $#%@-suckin' no fun havin' kinda town is this? I know a couple of nurses back at Alaska Regional who wouldn't even be able to step foot in this town thanks to these new rules. 

After winning big, we headed back to the van at dusk. We camped that night in the Black Hills which just appear black due to the large Ponderosa pine trees that cover them. The next morning we cruised past Mount Rushmore opting to save the $11.00 and took photos from the road. We pulled over just after the monument to go rock climbing. The ground near the climb was covered in quartz and glittered in the sun. After just a few difficult ascents of the "Fintastic" route, named for the weird fin like appearing rocks, we were thoroughly juiced and sweaty. Either I haven't been climbing in a while, or it was more difficult than it was rated, or a combo of both, but I found it to be really hard. Also, it was something like 92 degrees out which helps no one. 

 We continued on back toward Rapid City, SD. I had downloaded a new app that seemed custom made just for me, called Thrift Buddy, which finds thrift stores near me! We hit the Corner Stone Thrift Store downtown where God rock music was blasting from the speakers and the clothing was likely donated by members of their church who last cleaned out their closets in 1989. Sadly we exited empty handed.

We moved on to our next National Park, the Badlands of South Dakota where Kai, even while driving, continued to out-spot all the wildlife. This of course is likely due to his new eyeballs, a gift from Dr. Ford at the Lasic Eye Center. He could be rollin' at 55 miles an hour and see a prairie dog while I was looking the wrong way. Clearly this is why I am not a sniper in the military and why no one has ever asked me to be their hunting scout. A buffalo could be standing 30 feet in front of me, and I was like, "Where? By that tree or is it that one?"

It was early evening but still in the 90's outside. We stopped at viewpoints throughout the park taking hundreds of photos of the weird moon like landscape before finding camp in the prairie fields campground. We watched the sun set super badassedly over the badlands and then enjoyed tacos in the dark while the crickets chirped all night. We used the indoor shower in the van for the first time as well. Kai went first and later after I cleaned the kitchen, I jumped in. However the tank was as this point nearly empty having filled up a state ago, so I took an nervous shower not knowing if there was enough water left to rinse the suds out of my hair as the shower head sputtered and spattered the last few remaining drops of luke warm water at me. I went to bed clean and awoke sweaty again in the desert like heat. This weather is unreal. We dumped and pumped and sprayed the dog down with water before heading east. 

We fed some adorable prairie dogs non-salted peanuts, evidently their snack of choice, and watched them wrestle with each other and fight the black birds who were often faster than them at grabbing the nuts. The roads continued on in a super straight fashion with row after row of corn fields and sunflowers. There seemed to be significantly fewer liquor stores and casinos and more churches and diners once we crossed the border from Wyoming to South Dakota. On an up note, we've seen some of the best hair yet on this trip in southern SD. By best I'm really talking about some intensely adverse mullets, perms, and dye jobs. 

Up next, we head up to the Dakota due north for some walleye fishing this weekend with my Uncle Bob.

***Heads up to all the worry-warts out there, the best man from Orion's wedding back in Bellingham is alive and well. He was reunited with his family.

Woke Up Sunday Mornin' With No Way To Hold My Head That Didn't Hurt..

We decided to take the east exit out of Yellowstone National Park to head to the wild west town of Cody, WY. William "Buffalo Bill" Cody, the famous wild west show organizer, founded this town in 1895 in which his spirit is still very much alive. Cody is evidently world famous for its rodeos which are held every single night from early June through the end of August. When I asked our camp host at the Ponderosa Campground and RV park how this town could have enough cowpeople to host a rodeo every night she informed me that, "Cody rodeo isn't the biggest in the world, but it pays the most, so cowboys come from all around to compete." She then went on to tell us that at 6:00 pm we could "eat all we could eat" while watching a live gunfight at the Irma Hotel. The Irma was created by Buffalo Bill and named after his daughter (thanks Wikipedia- we couldn't afford both the rodeo AND entrance to the Buffalo Bill museum). We chose rodeo as they had beer and popcorn, live animals and the possibility of injuries. 

We ran some errands that afternoon and explored downtown Cody before showering and changing into our western wear. I like to dress appropriately for all events I attend but was worried that like in Yellowstone, the weather would be significantly cooler in the evenings, so I opted for skinny jeans and my boots instead of a dress. We decided to ride our bikes the 2 miles to the Cody Rodeo and Stampede arena so that we could burn off the Bud and/or Coors Light calories we were bound to imbibe. Whilst riding we were heckled by some locals, something to the extent of, "Buy a 4-wheel drive!!!" or something like that I'm not sure as they were driving by quite fast. It was clear that the residents of Cody had never seen a bicycle before. I guess we should've ridden horses but we weren't sure how to acquire them on such short notice. 

We arrived to the stinky rodeo arena and paid our $18.00 each. When we handed our tickets over to the gentleman at the gates he said, "Where y'all from?" Clearly my urban tribal print top, skinny jeans and boots were not fooling anyone. When we arrived, the 12 and under kids were out riding baby cows, followed by the barrel racer cowgirls and then more kiddos on horses. It was, perhaps, the cutest thing we've ever seen to see a 5 year old cowboy in a helmet walk his horse at a snail's speed through the barrel course. Afterwards, the big dogs came out to rope cows in teams and finally the event of the evening, bull riding. There was a paniolo from Hawaii and a Canadian cowboy- though oddly he was not dressed in all denim....

Custom camo hats at the local Walmart

 Afterward we rode our bikes in the dark getting hit in the face by giant flying crickets and sprayed by the night time auto lawn sprinklers. We continued past the Ponderosa into downtown Cody where we grabbed a slice of pizza at a ridiculously Hawaiian themed restaurant before heading to the baddest looking bar on the street, the Silver Dollar. We passed the Harleys parked out front with success and were carded by a giant at the door. We posted up at the bar and quickly made friends with the gentleman to my right. His name was JD and he was from "all over," though most recently, Virginia. I don't know if it was his muddled accent(s) or the chew in his bottom lip or the fact that I'd been drinking since the beginning of the rodeo, but I had a very difficult time understanding this very nice man throughout our time together. For example, I heard, "bi-porn" when he asked how the popcorn was that we had bought at the rodeo. Later while discussing food with our new bar back/bouncer friend, Daryl, I heard that there was a, "dragon in the garden" when he was actually using the term "drag it through the garden" which is, according to Wikipedia, a term used for "put everything on it" or "all the veggies" when ordering something like a burger. 

JD was an EMT back in Virginia and we shared some funny stories on patients and cases. He gave us some great tips for our route through VA and the Carolinas next month as well as which areas to avoid while using a sort of racial epithet that I won't repeat here since I'm not down with that. After a quick discussion on how that wasn't really cool in this day and age, we moved on to safer topics. 

Save a horse, ride a buffalo

We shut the bar down, gave hugs to our new friends and hit the skids. We drunk-biked back to Ponderosa where we gorged on leftover elk sausage jambalaya on the floor of the Truckster before passing out. After that comment from the rodeo ticket collector, Kai's been working hard at growing out his hair so that we better fit in down here in the midwest. I think it's working.

The next morning we awoke dry mouthed and in a bad way. We grabbed a bite and did some well needed laundry before heading up the Big Horn National Forest pass. About halfway into it, Kai noticed the temp gauge jump to an alarmingly high level so we pulled over to give the Truckster respite. It was 100 degrees out and we were at a scenic pullout at over 9000 feet. Hungover, we decided to nap while the van's engine cooled. I awoke an hour later sweat dripping from my face and body and asked if it was safe to turn the van and AC back on. Just as we were about to pull out and back on to the highway an old Ford car pulled in with an even older man inside frantically pointing upwards. I thought something must be wrong with the Tuckster and he was attempting to warn us. I jumped out of the van and met the old timer. He was wearing old blue jeans, a large silver belt buckle, a striped western shirt and a giant white cowboy hat. He had multiple metal teeth that seemed to move about when he spoke like ill fitting dentures. He asked excitedly, "Did you see the man feeding the elephant?" I looked back at Kai as if to ask, "What the french is this old geezer talking about?!?!" Just then I looked up into the hills at the impressive rock formations and sure enough saw a rock that looked just like a man feeding an elephant. "Oh wow! I see it now, thanks!" I told him. He looked incredibly pleased as he explained that no one ever notices that and he likes to point it out when he can. He then launched into a completely unrelated diatribe about large foreign corporations such as Dole fruit who were ruining this country and how this land was God's country and that all the rich bastards were ruining it. We thanked him kindly for pointing out the sights for us and slowly began backing up toward the Truckster. 

We pulled into Sheridan, WY just as the sun was setting. I once again consulted Urbanspoon and found a place with a 92% positive rating completed by some 25 votes. Urbanspoon I've discovered really only works in urban areas, where people utilize smartphones and apps and eat foods other than chicken fried steak. It is very difficult to trust a 98% rating when only 3 people have cast votes. I wish that you could see where they were from as well... it would be helpful to know if it was tourists with worldly tastes passing through rating these restaurants or the locals who think think ground black pepper is a spice. Just sayin'... so we ate at Sanfords Grub and Pub. The menu itself was so large that we couldn't both read our own while on the table. The servings and plates were oversized and literally even the fork itself was so large that I could barely comfortably eat with it. But domestic beer was just 1$ on tap with any meal ordered so we pined away with our cartoon-like utensils. The woman next to our table had an upper arm and elbow larger in circumference than my thigh and she was upset that the deep-fried cheesecake didn't also come with ice-cream so she ordered some on the side. That signaled the end of our meal and also the beginning of our new devotion to stop eating so poorly and resume our daily workouts while on this trip. 

We camped that night at a KOA who boasted not only a pool but also free wifi and cable. We don't carry a dish around with us, but we thought it seemed like a good night to get caught up with our favorite shows online. We watched one episode of Weeds when the internet would load no more. It was then that I noticed a bandwidth restriction and we had clearly met ours. Well that's hardly "free wifi" at all... it should tell you, "free wifi good enough to watch just 26 minutes of Weeds and then you're cut off". Angry we had spent the extra money to stay, we went to sleep. We didn't even get to utilize the pool either because it didn't open until noon and check out was 11:00 am! Damn you KOA.

We took a break at a rest stop near the border of WY and South Dakota. As I was just finishing washing my hands in the restroom I heard a small cry for help coming from the last stall. "Hello?" I called. A somewhat elderly, obese woman in the last stall said, "Can you help me off the toilet or go find my husband for me?"  She then directed me where she wanted me to stand and where my hands should be placed and how she wanted to be pulled straight up and not forward towards me. No shit, lady, like I want your poopy ass to fall onto me?!?! "Don't worry ma'am, I've done this before," as I instructed her how to help herself using the mounted metal garbage attached to the wall while I helped. One, two, three and up we came and so did a hot waft of her gaseous toilet bowl fillings, and instantly I was returned to work, only worse, I wasn't getting paid this time. I washed my hands, again, and hit the road. God bless America.

Yellowstone, Check!!!

Entering Yellowstone with our newly acquired serpentine belt and our Annual National Parks Pass, we drove directly to the campground to secure a spot. This place is like an amusement park, minus the amusement. Tons of slow moving traffic and people everywhere with giant name tags on, wearing bad sun visors with cameras around their necks. We cozied up to our not very private spot, H-380, of something like 425 camp sites. We instantly made friends with our new neighbors from Oklahoma. They were about our parents age cruising around the states with their tent, mini van and Harley on a trailer. They were so impressed with our van that they asked for a tour. Jamie, the husband, couldn't believe that a shower could fit inside our bathroom and opened the door in awe. After the grand tour, we talked for a bit about traveling and life and things to do and see in the park. Debbie then began to tell us about all the missionary work they've done throughout the world and it was at this time that we decided Yellowstone was calling us. We graciously said our goodbyes and hit the road in search of wildlife.

According to the guide map, dusk and dawn are the two best times to see wildlife in the park. Knowing full well that we will never get up at dawn unless we have a flight to catch or the van is on fire, we thought dusk seemed like the right fit for us. On the road we instantly saw buffalo just hanging out mowing on grass. Herds of elk walked through the fields near the creek and the smell of sulfur filled our nostrils. We stopped at several small thermal pools, mud volcanoes, and small geysers before returning to camp in the dark where we grilled steak, just a little bit glad that our missionary friends were already snoozing. 

The next day it was decided to grudge-f$#% Yellowstone. As Kai pointed out, you can easily see the whole park in a day and then bail. So that's what we did. We hit Old Faithful at the perfect time, watched it spew its hot waters for several minutes before walking the board walk trail to see all the smaller yet impressive geysers and pools. Nearly starved to death from the excitement, I insisted on getting lunch at the lodge's cafeteria rather than making yet another ham and cheese wrap in the van. Big mistake. The cattle call line should have warned us of our fate, but yet the menu seemed intriguing.. pulled pork sandwiches, pasta, salads, buffalo chicken burgers? It all sounded so good. It wasn't though. It was the worst meal we've eaten so far and we've eaten in the Yukon. When in Yellowstone, don't do as we did... pack your own lunch. That food was gross. 

Moving on, we continued to spot animals off in the distance like we were on a safari. The weather was perfect and the scenery wasn't too shabby either. That evening we approached the northwest area of the park and found the Boiling River, which is the only swimming spot allowed in the park. The Boiling River is a thermal, steaming hot stream that comes out of the ground and flows over rocks into the Gardiner River- which is ice cold. But if you get the perfect spot it's like a natural hot tub. When someone walked through the rocks it was like someone flushed the toilet while you were in the shower as the cold Gardiner current hit you. We sat in the rocky natural hot tub for a while before hiking back to the road to finish the rest of this grudge-f$&% tour of America's first national park.

It was now dusk and the animals were out in full swing. I looked at the guide and complained to Kai that I had yet to see a wolf, bear, mule deer, or a yellow bellied marmot. Kai said, "Just wait, there will be something around this corner." And sure enough, the yellow bellied marmot posted up on the side of the road just like in the picture! Later on we noticed a huge cluster-f#$% of traffic and I had remembered reading how the rangers here can tell what kind of wildlife spotting it is according to how messed up the parking is. There were a at least 30 cars and RVs parked in the opposite lane of traffic and people everywhere with binoculars, I thought, "This must be something good.." It was, there was a grizzly bear was kickin' it in the valley below oblivious to the gawkers above. We continued to see more animals and even got caught in a buffalo traffic jam on the way back to camp. 

The next morning we road our bikes to a natural rock formed bridge before driving to the Yellowstone Falls. There we hiked Uncle Tom's Trail down the 328 steps to the breathtaking view point of the falls. We were there all of 4 minutes before turning around and huffing and puffing back up the 500 foot drop to the visitors center. Check! Done and done. We totally kicked Yellowstone's ass.