Are You Familiar with "Town?"

How did people travel in days of yore? And by "yore," I mean before cell phones. We haven't had cell reception since mid-South-Dakota YESTERDAY and it makes me feel untethered. What if friends want to exchange hilarious texts with me? What if my parents are wondering if we are being trampled by angry steer on some unpaved road? What if The Glamper has a blowout and goes careening off the side of a cliff, dragging Jeepy with it and crushing Dr. J. and me in the process while sparing the fur kids? Who will feed them come 5:00 CST?

All actual thoughts from this morning.

Yesterday's stats: 537.6 miles in 10.5 hours
Average miles per gallon: 8.7
Stops made for gas: 37

Today was much easier, both in terms of mileage and hours spent. We wanted to get to Bozeman, Montana, but decided to cut it an hour short and stop at a KOA in... (hang on while I check the paper they gave me) ... Big Timber. It is very much like the last two KOAs we have visited. Not only can we hear every vehicle on I-90, but we are disturbingly close to a set of very busy train tracks. Those who know me well know my extreme fear of trains. Well, mostly I am afraid of train wheels cutting off my legs a la "Valley of the Dolls." Either way, they have the power to paralyze me physically and mentally. Should be a restful night.

No matter since we had what will probably end up being the highlight of the trip about two hours ago. We checked into our campground, but before "docking" for the evening, decided to get Jeepy a drink in town to be ready to hit the road early in the morning. We stopped at some gas station that Dr. J. had actually visited during his time at the Crow Nation a few months ago (story for another time). While he poured shot after shot into Jeepy, I ran through the rainbow-streaked puddles to the combination convenience store/quilt emporium/gun shop to ask for directions to the nearest pizza place. The lovely young woman behind the convenience store counter immediately said, "The American Legion."

"Fabulous," I said. "How do we get there?"

"Hmm. I've lived here since I was born, but I don't know street names," she said. Then she shouted over to Bob in the gun store for him to come out and give me directions.

Bob sauntered around the corner, looked me up and down (I will not describe my outfit because I've been camping and eating licorice and am disgusting) and said, "Are you familiar with town?"

I said, "No, Bob. I am coming from Chicago and am not familiar with 'town.' I cannot eat one more sandwich from the cooler in the backseat of Jeepy, though, so please, direct me to pizza."

Bob gave me the directions, I ran out to Dr J., and we actually found the place without help from the GPS. No joke, the pizza place is the actual American Legion building in town. There is no sign to indicate this, so we parked the menagerie and trusted the locals. As soon as we opened the door to this deserted-looking place, we could smell the pizza. We followed our noses down a set of unmarked stairs, past a makeshift blood drive, and through some doors into a magical place. A BAR. With actual people in it, all of whom swiveled their chairs around to check out the noobs.

There is nothing like a local establishment to make you feel completely out of place. No matter. We ordered pizza to go and two Budweisers to drink while we waited. We even got to see a bit of Game 4 of Lord Stanley's Cup series (Go Canucks!) and feel a bit of normalcy returning. That place was awesome and it almost makes me want to move to... Big Timber (I keep forgetting where I am) to go there again. That's probably just because I don't want to experience the mountains tomorrow.

And if you were wondering, the pizza was totally worth driving 18 miles out of the way.

Today's license plates:
1. Utah
2. Virginny
3. New Joisey
4. New Mexico
5. Nevada
6. Georgia
7. New York
8. Mississippi
9. South Carolina

Can you believe it? We only need five more license plates to have seen a car from every state in this wonderful nation. God bless President Eisenhower and his Interstate system.