We Are Going Camping if it Kills Us!!

Well, many of you know I have spent my summer restoring our 1977 Playmor camper. Restoring might actually glorify what I've done, mostly just a crap ton of paint, flooring and some pretty pillows. Nonetheless, our 'Betty Blue' was finally ready for the road...or so we thought.

About 14 miles from Gillette, Wyoming, Kyle pulls over to check a bouncing window. "Flat tire," he says as he walks back to the truck. "No spare," he adds as I fish for my AAA card (thanks Mom and Dad!) Two hours later, the tire repair man comes buzzing down the interstate to greet us, pregnant wife and kid in tow. Wyomingnites take vehicle repair seriously, it's a straight up family affair.

'Load up, honey! We got ourselves a live one down on I90!'

After trying to sell us a used tire, Kyle and the Tire Man shook hands and agreed upon a simple repair. Only $20, woohoo! By 9 pm - keep in mind, we left Spearfish, a 90 mile drive, at 4 pm - we roll into Gillette, with the camper's newly repaired tire squeeking like a trapped mouse.

"Bearings," Kyle explains while we sit underneath the flickering light of a rundown Cenex gas station, contemplating our next move. As a loyal wife, I agree with my husband and we both conclude Gillette will be our home for the evening. We found a lovely, little campground next to the hospital, which reassured me considering how the evening was unfolding. I have a serious weak spot for campgrounds, I'm the worlds best campgrounder. From the overly bleached smell of the bathrooms to the front desk attendant rocking a pair of serious lamb chops, I live for the camp life.

"Free WiFi," Kyle grunts as we pull into Krazy Woman Campground. I walk into pay and of course, they don't accept credit cards. Mr. Lamb Chops explains there is an ATM down yonder at the bowling alley. He was also nice enough to give me directions. "Walk down the hill and when you see a white truck, turn left. Continue passed the grease barrels into the alley and you can't miss it." Awesome.

Upon entering the bowling alley, I'm greeted with a whoft of cigarette smoke and about 400 children running around with Mountain Dew and Pixie Sticks. Amused, I walk to the ATM and a sign written in blue pen reads, BROKEN. Darn. I head back up the hill passed the grease barrels and Mr. Lamb Chops can see my growing distress and says just pay me in the morning. God Bless his mother.

So, our first day of camping ends with my hubby and I snuggling up in the camper, watching Breaking Bad on our free WiFi. We are now sitting at a car dealership waiting for 'Mike' to check our wheel bearings. I suggested we call into Car Talk and maybe we can do it ourselves. Will we make it to the Bighorns? Stay tuned to find out.

Mindy P.