This morning we awoke to Wally really being ready to go. Our exhaustion from the late night had me actually sleep until 8 am- unusual for me. By the time we reloaded the crate in the car and found something acceptable to eat from the Quality Inn's "continental breakfast" it was 9 am. A headlight was out so we took off to the Auto zone to replace that. By the time the battery was replaced the call had come in from Kingsville towing. Cliff, our rescuer from last night had passed the message on that we wanted two new tires so we would have a spare and they had us ready to go by 10 am. We had to take some photo's of the tire that caused us to fall behind on our travel schedule. I immediately noticed that the car was not working as hard to pull it's load and found that we were using much less gas. There must have been something wrong with that tire from the beginning.
All went well across Ohio until far from the Ohio border we passed a rest station with gas that had the sign- "last services in Ohio". I looked at the tank- over 1/4 full and drove on. I didn't suspect that the last rest area on the turnpike would be the last gas until the Ohio line. The tank ran low, I looked for gas off the highway- none to be found. 3 miles before the next gas station- we ran out of gas. We pulled over, gave Wally some water and tried calling AAA. As Greg spent about a 1/2 hour on the phone with them trying to convince them that the town Holiday City actually did exist, I spoke with a DPW truck who called us assistance. Moments later these guys were followed by a state police officer that told us help was on the way. The weather was reaching 100 so we sat outside the car being cooled by the breeze of the passing traffic. Finally- Lincoln, the attendant to the next service station delivered us our rescue. He also rescued us by directing us to good food. "There is a reason I am fat- head to the next exit and take a left go to the 4 Season's restaurant- the food is good and the quantities large".
We fueled up- placed Wally in his crate outside the restaurant with his meal and we went in to sit at a table by the window to watch him. I looked up at the TV playing CNN news- and there was Dillingham, Alaska on the map displayed with a scrolling life history of former Senator Ted Stevens. After weeks of trying to describe where Dillingham, Alaska was to people- it was now being talked about across the nation. The plane crash killed 5 people including Ted Stevens. They were flying a small plane in inclimate weather with poor visibility to a cabin owned by GCI in the wilderness outside of Dillingham. The cause of the crash was a soft landing which usually occurs when a pilot cannot see a land feature and is suddenly flying into it- I guess this is a last ditch effort to save the plane. Other local pilots stated that it was not weather to be flying in. With my job- I will be traveling to the different remote villages by small plane- and I have been told it is not unusual to be socked in by weather.
GCI is a major telecommunications provider in Alaska that does provide cell service to the remote villages in the bush. I have already been advised that I will need to stop in Anchorage during my layover to get GCI cell phones. GCI had a company cabin in the wilderness that the plane's party was going to stay at- many companies have "sporting cabins" in the Dillingham area and many VIP's from the lower 48 come through Dillingham to access the world class fishing in the Dillingham area.
We finish our "breakfast skillet", the food that becomes our road trip staple and head onward. Through the planes I drive straight through stopping only to fuel up. There is really no view to enjoy and the time is monotonous. At this point I have developed a sore throat and cough and speech is painful, so other than the radio in the background the car is fairly silent. I advise Greg to rest up because I can drive forever, however, when I crash-(ie get tired not slam into guard rails) I go down hard and fast. Finally in Iowa I hand over the wheel. Sleep is accomplished in a sitting position on the passenger side as there is no room in back to lay the seat back. I feel the car slowing down an wake up to a rain that is harder than any I have ever seen before. The wind has it blowing sideways. After trying to drive with zero visibility Greg pulls the car over to wait out the storm as we nap. Two hours later, the rain has not let up at all and we decide to move forward. However, as we approached Des Moines the rain was relentless so we decide that the weather has called it a day for us. We use the GPS to find a hotel and go toward the Iowa state fair. The water is running through the roads in a constant stream at this point. We arrive at the hotel to find that there is no room because of the fair going on. I return to the car and we head back on the same streets we come in on- however, in those few moments that we attempted a room- the flowing streams on the road had changed to lakes. Cars were stuck in the water with their drivers waist deep in water trying to figure out how to get themselves out of their predicament. We carefully picked and chose roads to maneuver our way back to the highway without being stuck ourselves. The next morning we would find out that the flash flooding we were in the midst of had killed a 16 year old girl and put thousands without electricity and water.
We got back on the highway and the rain had slowed down. At 4 am I took over the wheel again and we continued onward. South Dakota brought very little entertainment in terms of landscape as we started through. The most entertaiment was found in the Wall Drug signs that were placed every few miles along the side of the highway. "Wall Drug or Bust", "Kids Love Wall Drug", "Coffee 5 cents at Wall Drug", "Poney up to Wall Drug" and many more creative enticements were seen along the way. Our other form of entertainment was collecting license plates of all 50 states. This game was accelerated when hoards of Harleys started traveling around us. I hadn't realized that my trip cross country happened to coincide with the 70th anniversary of the Sturgis Motorcycle rally. Bikers from all over the world were converging on Sturgis South Dakota to just "hang out with each other" and enjoy the races. This made fuel stops interesting as well- there wasn't a stop where there wasn't conversation about the "moving mobile" while we would talk to the bikers about where they were coming from and how their ride was.
We pulled over at a truck stop at 6 Wednesday morning in order to eat while it was cool enough to leave Wally in the car. The truckstop waitress, a matronly old lady, entertained me with stories about the crazy things she had seen working nights at an interstate truck stop. The crazy and skimpy outfits that come with Sturgis were the most entertaining for her. We marveled and could hardly resist buying "Born to Be Free" Harley vests for only $10.99 an I had to wonder who actually buys the illuminated angels and indian princesses with microfibor wings that were on sale for $29.99. I envisioned many a trucker's wife being blessed with this gift when their hubby did their last minute Christmas shopping on the road. 1/2 of my skillet breakfast was shared with Wally before we got back on the road.
Wally at this point had been existing in and out of his crate for 2 full days and was now showing resistance to getting back in. He would stop as we walked back to the car after a fueling walk and splay his paws wide while he dug in his doggie heels in an attempt to stop his journey. We would have to lift him in to get him going to keep the ride moving. At one fuel stop I decided that I would start a "Where's Wally" series of photo's to entertain my kids and maybe give a little geography lesson. The first one was taken at a ghost town midway across South Dakota.
At 1pm we reached our goal of the Badlands- I had wanted to arrive here in the morning. Our visit here and most of the national parks on the trip were limited to what could be seen from the parking lots as pet's were not allowed on trails and the weather was too hot to leave Wally in or near the car. The badlands- lableled so by the French traders who found them a "bad place to travel across" were rustic and beautiful. There were many variations on the rock formations. I couldn't help but think of Billy Crystal in his midlife crisis movie as a rent a cowboy. Here we ran into Mark Gallagher- a forge racing paddler.
From there we hopped back on 90 and were off to the great town of Wall. This Western- "South of the Border-like" town was loaded with bikers. I sat outside with Wally as we waited for Greg who had gone inside to buy rootbeer floats for the two of us and a cup of icecream for Wally. We again made many new acquaintances with the bikers that were hanging around the streets. Unfortunately, I couldn't explore the wonders inside Wall drug- because of having Wally and the heat of 102 degrees.
We again got back in the car. I was very thankful that the two trailers that had been parked around us had moved- otherwise I would have had to practice my "not so fine tuned" trailer back up skills in a very crowded parking lot. We got back in the car and headed toward Mount Rushmore.
The landscape had completely changed again on the road to Rushmore- now we were on steep mountain roads with pines lining them. Again, there was a whole new variety of rock formations. You could see Rushmore as we approached but there was nowhere to pull off and take a picture. The parking lot was full of cars who each had to pay $10 to a private concessionaire. My National Parks Pass that I had purchased in the Badlands wasn't usable here and we weren't eager to line the pocket of a concessionaire that wasn't necesarily using the profits to benefit or national lands. A stop around the corner gave us a shot of Thomas Jefferson though.
Again- we were back in the car with the GPS programmed for Yellowstone. However, we did stop at the Crazy Horse Monument to check out this private monument honoring the plight of Native American's in our country. This monument is being carved slowly by a family. Apparently, they have been offered government funding to finish the project but have refused it because they didn't want any assistance from the government. At this point the face of Crazy Horse is complete, the ridge to become his arm is cut out and an outline of the horses head is painted on the rock. The rocks taken from the mountain were for sale in a big bin as a potential souvenir to take home to memorialize the visit- although it was extremely difficult, I refrained from buying one. Wally was able to join us on the viewing deck and he provided some more entertainment as we worked to get him to pose for his picture.
Again, we loaded back up the car to head toward Yellowstone- we did well moving along until around 9 pm we both admitted defeat to exhaustion and had to pull over to sleep. We found a hotel, got a room and went off to a local restaurant where I had a "late dinner breakfast skillet". Back at the room I showered off two days of road wear and was fast asleep before my head even hit the pillow.
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