And Back To Spearfish We Go!

Well, as the old saying goes, everything happens for a reason. Today's reason has yet to show itself, but I'm sure this whole ordeal will have a good outcome.

We got the bearing fixed on Betty Blue, but there was one tiny, little thing missing - the grease cap. Funny enough, a 1977 camper apparently has vintage wheels to boot, making this particular grease cap a real bugger to find. Mechanic Mike disappeared to the bar down the street around 11, leaving us with Diego, from Torrington, Wyoming. "I don't recommend driving on those wheels without a cap, bro," he says to the bemused Kyle. So back on the phone to AAA.

I stand by AAA to the end, it's a wonderful thing to have. But seeing as our camper is a "classic", all the old timers who know how to tow the damn thing are long gone. Tow Truck Guy shows up and the bewildered look on his face as he sized up our vintage ride says, 'you've got to be kidding me.' He informed us the camper will fall off the flatbed if he tows it. He did, however, offer to drag it back to his used car lot and sell it for us. Kyle's eyes lit up like a child at Christmas. After a swift punch to the ribs, he wised up and sent Tow Truck Man on his way.

This is how plan B went down. I think it's ingenious and I'm thankful for the years that I spent jimmy-rigging tree forts as a young child, as this plan wouldn't have gone down without it.

The problem was that we didn't have a cover for the bearing to keep the grease in. So, theoretically a plastic bottle would hold grease. Two rolls of duct tape and a giant Aquavista water bottle later, voila, white trash grease cap. When in Rome. The photo below doesn't do this artwork justice.

I still love my camper. One day I'd like to restore many vintage campers and will treat this as lesson in the importance of proper wheel care.

It's a silent trip home as we reminisce about our time in Gillette. I am twiddling the shell casing from a 9mm Luger that I found in the parking lot of the campground - I call it gun bullet ammo despite my Second Amendment supporting husband's dirty looks. Is it a reminder of our survival tactics this weekend? Or maybe an ominous wake up call to what's to become of Betty Blue? I do not know, but we're both the wiser that spare tires can sure avoid a fun weekend in Gillette.

Mindy P.