Sunday, August 10, 2008

this is our review of bbq

Nate's got the sneezes real bad here in corn country. He'll go motoring ahead for a bit, start convulsing like a bison taking a dirt bath (a little local color for you there, or at least local to 1,000 miles ago), and deaccelerate rapidly. So it was a rough stretch of road through Nebraska. Long, straight, cold, and a host of other dull adjectives. It's also grasshopper country and I've got the guts to prove it. Yellow-green guts with the odd exoskeletal leg or abdomen still attached. They sun themselves on the quieter roads and woe betide he who gets caught following too close. We put in 460 miles yesterday, half of which was just gwtttong us back from sturgis. To mark the halfway point of our trip (in days if not distance) we splurged on accommodations at the local holiday inn in Sioux city Iowa. Ne'er a more wretched hive of scum and villany etc etc. After showering off the bug carcasses, we donned our newly acquired sturgis shirts and hit the town. We first sashayed brazenly into a 1988 class reunion before enough expectant looks informed us of our folly. A touch more sashaying brought us to a nice watering hole featuring a nice bartender and an insufficient supply of Sam's summer. But there was a surprise in store. Two bachelorette parties AND a bachelor party in the same bar! Or perhaps two bachelor parties and a bachelorette party. I couldn't quote figure it out. Whatever the case there were a lot of happy people. But the best part of the night was the chin-wag we shared with martin wolf soldier outside the bar. He was either was relatively sauced or a few bulbs short of a billboard but was a righteous old mule nonetheless. He had spent 13 days hitchhiking from Chicago, trying to get back to his family in Montana. He taught us some key nakota phrases, all of which I got muddled with Korean, Chinese, French, and Spanish (damned cerebral organization) and promptly forgot. But a mule. A mule's mule with more interesting stories than a bar-full of bachelorettes. So we're properly homeward bound now with a week to go. It's been a trip. Yellowstone feels like a month ago, Astoria a year. Thanks for checking in you scallywags...we'll be stinking up your joints before you know it.

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