Departure day. We had to leave before the true event ending, missing out on the final day of wheel'n and the closing ceremonies. Ceremony = beer, food, and raffle. But on this night we were going to be sleeping on our own beds.
We packed a great deal the night before; kitchen supplies, table, chairs, and other non-essentials. Today was going to be about tent & sleeping bag stowage, restaurant breakfast, and 12 hours of driving. There was no time for pleasantries, campfire bacon-n-eggs, or fireside chat with coffee.
We did have a bit of morning drama, Galen refused to do a few things I asked. Nothing important in the grand scheme of things, but there was the principle and I wasn't in the mood for defiance. His punishment? We were not going to eat breakfast where he wanted, the campground bar-n-grill. They had decent food, they had breakfast pancakes, and I did want to eat there, but I needed cooperation and an apology. I did not need an eight year old uncooperative anarchist. We hit the road, all the while I was bombarded with requests to go back to the bar-n-grill. But I had consumed a can of
Starbucks Doubleshot Expresso which provided my veins with enough caffeine for a few miles. So I drove on, and on, and on.
An eight year old, just three feet mouth-to-ear when he's bitching, mad, grumbling, hungry, and frustrated isn't the most pleasant of things. Especially in the first ten minutes of a twelve hour road-trip. Luckily at highway speeds with the windows down the Land Cruiser is noisy.
It was about 35 minutes later when I heard the first mumbles of an apology. We talked about the transgression, better choices and all that stuff, and that was that. Then we moved on to more important matters such as what & where to eat. We agreed that we wanted real food, pancakes, bacon, sausage and alike, juice, coffee (for me), and milk. While the golden arches may advertise their attempts at such things, they don't serve food, just unappealing calories. We wanted an old fashioned, down to earth dinner.
We had already passed through Sturgis, SD and were heading towards Rapid City. We pulled off the freeway at Summerset, turned right and found a coffee shop. But we needed sustenance, more than a coffee shop scone or muffin. In the coffee shop parking lot there were 5 or 6 old men wearing cowboy hats, boots and all, BS'g. I pulled up beside them and voiced our dilemma. One stately gentlemen offered up a dinner down the road though he didn't know if it served breakfast on Saturdays. So off we went, looking for the steel horse.
Seems that this hole in the wall was in the Steel Horse Plaza. He assured me it was a few miles down the road, on the right, and that we couldn't miss it. Being a trusting soul (and one that verifies), we headed that way in search of the tasty pancake.
Ten nervous minutes or so later we found said steel horse, whipped into the lot to park, and almost bolted to the restaurant. Now it's at this point I will beg forgiveness for I can't remember the dinner's name. Peg's, Cafe Latte, Nelsons, I just don't know. But it wasn't IHOP, Denny's, or Waffle House. It was an honest for goodness local eatery.
Galen was almost giddy as he viewed the menu, but he knew what he wanted. Pancakes. And bacon. And a glass of milk. I decided upon coffee with a side of biscuits-n-gravy. It was at this time that we had the first real opportunity to call home. Most of the camping, wheel'n, and general futzing about was on territory that Verizon hadn't quite figured out. dirt that had lousy, no, make that awful, cell coverage. It was wonderful to hear voices from home without the cackle and dropped calls we'd been experiencing over the past few days.
We made the best of our pit stop. Food was devoured, the conversation upbeat. But eventually the plates were empty, bellies full, bladders empty. It was time to hit the road.
The remainder of trip was uneventful. Miles continued to pass under our feet. Heading east would cost us an hour as we crossed from Mountain back to Central time zone. I calculated we'd hit the driveway about 9 PM, plus or minus, so I wasn't planning on any major pit stop or site-seeing/educational opportunities. My one concession was because of a promise I'd made on the outbound trip, we would pass through the
Badlands Scenic Byway. But we still had miles to drive, site-seeing was from the seats, except for the obligatorily photo op.
We pulled into the driveway just minutes after 9 PM. My butt was tired, my hands we tingly, and my blood needed beer. But we were home, all was good. Galen leaped out of the truck to go find his mom & brother. And Liam made an amazing run and jump into my arms. Greetings were made all the way around. We were home. And that was good.
