Day 13: Tuesday, September 15, 2026 - Lebanon Hills Regional Park: Across the Miles and Years

I woke before dawn to Taddy’s request that we get up and discover a new day together. After a rainy Monday, Tuesday promised to be beautiful.

The trails at Lebanon Hills were still cool and damp as we set off in the early morning darkness. Tad earnestly tried to track a bunny while also attending to his necessary morning business along the way.

By the time we returned to the motorhome, daylight had arrived, but the sun was still slowly sneaking up behind the trees on the hill behind our campsite.

I gave Tad a treat, turned up the furnace, started the coffee and crawled back into bed beside Janice. I nestled against her and dozed while the coffee percolated.

Eventually we returned to The Visitor by Craig Falconer, another science-fiction mystery we have been enjoying on the road. We began our day exactly as we had ended the night before: Janice's head resting on my chest as we listened to a couple of chapters together.

After coffee and a light breakfast, I received a text from Ashley. Her wedding-dress fitting had been rescheduled, so after getting the kids off to school she was coming over to see us.

Around 10:00, Ash, as she prefers to be called as an adult, pulled up in the purple Jeep she had gotten since our last visit. Purple was her favorite color as a little girl, and I couldn't help smiling that nearly 40 years later, some things haven't changed.

It was wonderful to see her.

We caught up on her very busy life and then took Tad for a long hike on the trails. Ash and her former husband, Matt, have three kids: Odin, 16; Ike, 14; and Bo, 11. Her fiancé, Orion, and his former spouse have four: Cara, 17; James, 16; Edward, 14; and Rose, 12.

Ash and Orion do an amazing job working as a team to get everyone where they need to go, including three different schools. I am also proud of the respectful relationship Ash and Matt have maintained as they share time with their children. It takes a lot of cooperation, patience and love to make a blended family work.

Ash gave us updates on all the kids and the beginning of the new school year. She and Orion are getting married in November during a cruise to Cabo San Lucas, and all seven kids will be their grooms! I can't imagine the planning involved in pulling everything together. Orion has been working more than 60 hours a week for several weeks, yet Ash says he is always there for her and the kids.

After Ash left, we had a couple of hours before my cousin Pam was coming over so we could take her to lunch for her birthday.

And that's when I discovered a treasure.

Last year, during our Minnesota visit, we scanned hundreds of photographs from my Aunt Jo's photo albums using a high-speed scanner we had purchased for the project. We ran out of time before we could scan a large packet of letters from our parents' cousin Johnny in Norway, so Pam loaned the packet to me. We brought it back to Minnesota on this trip to return to her.

As I looked through it, I noticed a stack of letters and a photograph that I hadn't scanned.

The photograph was of my cousin Tommy.

Tom was 2½ years older than me and was like an older brother. He died of cancer in 1973 when he was only 17 years old.

Inside the photo jacket was a newspaper advertisement from WCCO-TV promoting an eight-part series that had aired as part of the 10 p.m. news about dealing with death. The eighth and final segment featured Tom and his family.

Then I realized what the stack of letters was.

They were letters from viewers who had watched the program and had been moved by Tom's story. Among them was a letter from reporter Don Kladstrup, who had gotten to know Tom and his family well while working on the story.

I sat there reading them and was moved to tears.

More than half a century after Tommy died, here were the words of strangers whose lives had briefly intersected with his. They had watched a courageous 17-year-old boy and his family confront something most of us struggle even to talk about. And then they had taken the time to write.

What an unexpected gift!

Sadly, the videotape of the series that Aunt Jo once had has been lost. I never saw the program myself. I took photographs of the letters and other materials with my phone, and I am going to contact WCCO-TV to see if by some miracle a copy survives in their archives and has been digitized.

Shortly afterward, Pam arrived, and we headed to a nearby Five Guys for her birthday lunch.

We laughed and reminisced about growing up together. Pam and I have always been close. She has always been an excellent athlete, and Tommy was the one who taught us how to throw a football and a baseball. Pam and I played softball and tennis and bowled together as kids, traditions we carried into adulthood.

Sitting across from her at lunch, especially after discovering those letters about Tommy, brought so many memories rushing back.

We returned to the campground and took Tad for another walk. We made plans to get together again next week at Pam's new condominium.

Special times.

Around 5:00, Orion brought Bo and Rose over for a quick visit. It was fun to see them, although our time together was brief. The whole family is coming over tomorrow for a cookout, which should make for a wonderfully lively evening.

Our visit was cut short because at 7:00 we had our monthly two-hour Umpqua Watersheds Board of Directors meeting.

To get a strong enough Wi-Fi signal, Janice and I carried her laptop to a picnic table near the campground office and joined the meeting from there. It was wonderful seeing our friends back in Oregon via Zoom and catching up on the important work everyone continues to do together while we're traveling.

By the time the meeting ended, it was completely dark. We're two hours ahead of Oregon here in Minnesota, which makes those evening meetings feel particularly late!

We walked back to our little rolling home, and I pulled out the final bottle of home-brewed beer that my Brew Brother Al Walker had given me before we left Oregon. It seemed like the perfect excuse to call Al and Trudy and give them an update on our adventures.

They are two of our dear friends, people we spend a lot of time with and frequently camp with. Their dog Tyson is Taddy's best friend. It was simply good to hear their voices.

And so another day came to an end.

It had begun before sunrise with Tad and me walking quietly through the damp Minnesota woods. Along the way there was my daughter, grandchildren, cousin Pam, memories of childhood, a photograph of Tommy, letters written by strangers more than 50 years ago, friends and colleagues gathered on a laptop screen from 1,700 miles away, and finally the voices of Al and Trudy from home.

People separated by miles.

People separated by years.

Some still walking beside us. Some living now only in our memories and in the stories and love they left behind.

Yet somehow, on days like this, they don't seem so far away.

Life is great.

And we are grateful.

Day 12: Sept 14, 2026 Lebanon Hills Campground, Minnesota: turkeys

The rain set the tone early today. It started light, just enough to dampen the pavement while a couple walking their tiny dog came to a sudden halt, confronted by a medium sized, Griffon-looking dog bounding toward them, with a man in a bathrobe in hot pursuit trying to wrangle his wayward pet. It was a funny moment, though it did remind us of the strict pet warnings we’d received earlier.

Between raindrops, we spent part of the morning catching up with family over the phone. We gave Kasey’s local cousin Pam a call to wish her an early happy birthday and invited her out for lunch tomorrow to celebrate.

Before the weather finally cleared enough for a trek, a flock of roaming wild turkeys ambled past our site.

The trails in this campground are impressive for an urban park. Quite nice, groomed and wide in a lot of places. Once the drizzles paused, we went for a walk and found ourselves exploring the east loop of the campground. Back when we stayed here two years ago, we remembered admiring that exact loop, yet somehow we didn't end up staying there then either. Looking around today, we had to ask ourselves the same question: Why didn't we reserve a site over here? The east loop is far more our style, nestled deep within lush tree canopy, mere steps from the walking trail, and filled with spacious sites that could easily accommodate our rig. Sure, they only have electric hookups without water or sewer, but with a dump station right on-site, that wasn't a dealbreaker for us at all.

Driven by inspiration, we walked up to the park office around 12:30 PM to see if we could transfer. To our delight, the staff approved it! We scored Site 85 right by the trail entrance and even got a $93 refund in the process. Excited for the upgraded view, we headed back to the rig and were right in the middle of unplugging and making our getaway when a park staff member pulled up in a motorized cart to throw a wrench in the plans.

He claimed a system error had occurred: the east loop sites cap length at 24 feet, and our rig was supposedly too long. We pointed out that the sites were clearly deep enough, but rules were rules. We were officially banished to the high-density "RV parking lot" section, where you're parked so close your neighbors can practically read your mind.

Kasey headed back to the office to untangle the mess. Naturally, resolving the move, refund, and length policy required calling in supervisors and IT support, stretching the process out so long that he came back to the rig to wait it out. By the time they called him back to pony up the difference, the sky had opened up into a downpour. He waited for a lull to trek back over, while I braved the damp air to unload our bikes from the rack so they'd be ready to ride later.

We made the most of our stay despite the site disappointment. We cleared out the fridge by consuming a smorgasbord of leftover lunches and dinners, took advantage of the  showers, and caught up on laundry (powered by a neat solar hot-water system). 

They even provide convenient bags for recycling, with the list of what they accept printed in the bag.

Later on, we walked back up to the coveted east loop with determination to measure Site 85 ourselves. The gravel parking spot measured a full 42 feet long, at least and our RV is well under 30! The logic remains a total mystery.

So, instead of waking up to serene, forested nature views out our window, we're treated to a front-row seat of our neighbor’s sewer hose connection, the same view 2 years ago! On the bright side, the neighbor decorated their rig with nice little accent lights, so at least we can admire the view after dark. I guess we’ll just be keeping the shades drawn!

Day 11 Sunday, September 13, 2026: West Twin Lake to Lebanon Hills Regional Park - 135 Miles, 3 Hours

An Improbable Day

We woke up after another good night’s sleep in the motorhome at Chuck’s cabin on West Twin Lake. Near sunrise, while Janice worked on completing her blog from Saturday, Tad and I headed out for a long walk to another nearby lake, Lake Edna.

It was a typical cool, crisp Minnesota fall morning, but the bright blue sky and rising sun promised a warmer day ahead. Tad thoroughly enjoyed the walk, exploring all the smells and sights along the way, and I enjoyed simply being outside with my buddy as another beautiful Minnesota morning came to life.

When we returned, my cousin Al was outside sweeping pine needles from the sidewalk. Before long, Janice and I joined Al and Linda for a morning game of Mexican Train.

Linda and Al love playing games as much as I do, and Mexican Train is one of my favorites because it is fast-paced but can last quite a while. More than the game itself, I love the banter, the laughter, and watching everyone as they contemplate their next move. We had such a good time together.

After our game, Janice and I took Tad for another walk to Lake Edna, just north of West Twin Lake.

Minnesota is famous as the “Land of 10,000 Lakes,” but that is actually an understatement. There are 11,842 lakes of 10 acres or larger, and if you include lakes of 2.5 acres or more, the number soars to 21,871!

Our second trip to Lake Edna proved considerably more dramatic than my peaceful morning walk with Tad.

Tad, naturally, decided to go swimming. Afterward, he wandered onto the shoreline into what looked innocent enough but turned out to be a boggy area. Before we knew it, he had sunk into thick, gooey mud nearly to his shoulders!

We called and encouraged him toward shore, and Tad would try to bolt free, only to struggle again in the muck. I began seriously contemplating stripping off all my clothes and wading into the bog to rescue him. Janice, displaying considerably better judgment, suggested that if just let him rest, kept encouraging him toward shore, heroics, and nudity probably wouldn’t be necessary.

Finally, Tad managed to free himself!

I waded into the clear water with him near the boat launch and thoroughly washed the mud from his coat. I was enormously relieved that I wouldn’t have to walk back to Chuck’s cabin naked and covered in mud, looking like the Creature from the Black Lagoon!

Here is a rendering of what that might have looked like had I not heeded Janice's advice.

When we returned to the cabin, Chuck and his partner, Barb, had arrived. We all gathered in the living room for another Minnesota tradition: watching the Vikings play the Packers in the first game of the season.

We contributed to a wonderful pregame charcuterie tray that Linda prepared to help us cheer on the Vikings to victory.

While waiting for kickoff, we advised Chuck on how to can the bushels of tomatoes he had grown in his garden and encouraged him to bring them to the cabin so Linda and Al could help with the process.

I chuckled at the thought that a few decades earlier, a project involving that many tomatoes and the Huff brothers might easily have ended with a playful tomato fight.

Soon it was game time.

Linda and I were the only true fans committed enough to don our Vikings jerseys, although Al did wear his lucky T-shirt.

For the first two and a half quarters, things looked bleak. The Packers completely dominated the Vikings. Then came the moment that changed everything.

Green Bay faced fourth down with only about six inches to go near the Vikings’ 20-yard line, and Minnesota stopped them.

Suddenly, the entire game changed.

From that moment on, we cheered, whooped, hollered, and probably frightened Tad in motorhome a few times as the Vikings came roaring back, scoring 29 straight points and winning 39–22!

Over the years, I have accumulated so many memories of watching Vikings games with my dad, my kids, and my cousins. Football games come and go, and eventually the scores fade from memory. But the people sitting beside you, the laughter, yelling, teasing, celebrating, and simply being together remain.

This was one more very special Vikings memory to add to that collection.

After the game, Linda and Al prepared a spaghetti feast for us, along with a wonderful salad featuring some of Chuck’s freshly grown tomatoes. It was the perfect ending to an already memorable visit.

Then it was time for Janice and me to climb back into our rolling cabin and continue the Grand Adventure.

We had about a three-hour drive ahead of us to Lebanon Hills Regional Park in Apple Valley, where we would camp near my daughter Ashley’s home.

It was difficult saying goodbye to my cousins. We had laughed, played games, shared meals, watched an improbable Vikings comeback, and simply enjoyed being together.

And perhaps that was the theme of the entire day.

Our time together had not been carefully planned. In many ways, it was improbable. But we made it happen.

Life is filled with schedules, distances, responsibilities, and reasons why something might not work. Yet every once in a while, circumstances align and sometimes we help them align and we find ourselves sitting around a table playing dominoes, laughing with cousins, rescuing a muddy dog, cheering wildly for a football team, and sharing spaghetti before saying goodbye.

Those are the moments worth making room for.

As we headed toward Apple Valley, the sadness of leaving was mixed with excitement for what waited just down the road.

Ashley. Her fiance, Orion. My grandkids.

More family.

More memories.

And another chapter of our Grand Adventure waiting to be written.

Day 10:Sept 12, 2026 Relaxing at West Twin Lake.

​Seems that a few bottles of wine were consumed last night so we moved a little slower this morning, taking our time. Cici had already left at 5:30 AM to head to Fargo for more family visits, leaving Kasey, Alan, Linda, and me at the cabin.

​"Walking" the dog is less about walking and more about managing the leash. Tad isn't used to being on one and has developed a few bad habits. Add in the fact that this little corner of the West Twin Lake development is bursting with bunnies and squirrels, and for a dog on a leash, it’s pure torture.

​We spent the walk doing a high-stakes leash dance. Tad changes direction so fast I barely have time to react. When he gets excited, he circles right behind his captor, requiring a precisely timed overhead arm-lift to avoid getting wrapped up like a mummy.

​Breakfast turned into a proper 10:00 AM brunch: pancakes, sausage simmered in beer, and scrambled eggs. Amazingly, we managed to get everything finished at the exact same time so we could sit down while it was all still hot. Kasey’s cousin Chuck, who is also Alan and Cici’s brother, arrived right as we were plating up, so we convinced him to join us for a few bites.

​Chuck bought this cabin over 20 years ago and has fixed it up beautifully. He likes to stay busy, so right after brunch, he pulled out the mower and took care of the lawn before joining Alan downstairs to install a new light fixture. 

Alan stays just as busy and set right to work washing the windows, claiming he just "likes to help." 

As for me, I wandered around taking photos of the local flora for iNaturalist.

​After another round of dancing with Tad, I was called inside for a game of Mexican Train dominoes. 

Alan and Linda play all the time and are serious pros. Linda prevailed, and we all celebrated her victory with dinner at her favorite steakhouse (where I particularly appreciated the sign by the restrooms).

​Back at the cabin, we sank into the couch to talk and try to solve the world’s problems. It turns out there are far too many, so we decided to adjourn and continue the conference tomorrow.

Day 9: Friday, September 11, West Twin Lake, MN

Day 9 began quietly at Jesse’s house near Brainerd. I took Tad outside a little before seven and saw Jesse getting ready to take his daughter Vivian, an eighth grader, to school.

Before leaving, Jesse told us that our cousin Cece would be stopping by for coffee around 7:30.

That changed everything.

I hadn’t seen Cece since 2018, and we were thrilled at the chance to catch up with her. Cece and I were born the same year, and she is one of the eight Huff kids, the children of my Aunt Beth, my mother’s oldest sister.

The Huffs were an important part of my childhood. My mother and Aunt Beth were particularly close, and during those chaotic early years of my life, when we still lived in Minnesota, we spent a lot of time together. Those cousins were part of my world.

And somehow, regardless of how many years pass, whenever we are together again, it feels as though we simply pick up where we left off.

Cece arrived, big hugs were exchanged, coffee was poured, and the stories began.

Cece has lived an extraordinary life. A retired nurse who worked with U.S. consulates around the world, she has traveled extensively and always has adventures to share. About half an hour later, her older brother Chuck joined us, and before long our plans for the next few days had completely changed.

Chuck invited us to stay at his cabin on West Twin Lake near Pequot Lakes, about 20 minutes away. Even better, we learned that two more Huff cousins, Al and his wife Linda, were already staying there.

We had planned to head toward Pine City and my sister Lynn’s house, but this was an opportunity we couldn’t pass up. I called Lynn and told her we would arrive Monday instead.

Sometimes the best part of traveling is allowing the road to rewrite your itinerary.

Before heading to West Twin Lake, Cece joined Janice, Tad and me for a long walk at a nearby arboretum. Then we had one small piece of unfinished business.

The previous evening we discovered that Janice’s credit card was missing. I realized I must have dropped it while filling the motorhome with gas at Costco.

Fortunately, someone had found it and turned it in. It was safely locked away waiting for us. Whew!

Card recovered, crisis averted, we climbed back into Cece’s car, returned to the arboretum where we had left the motorhome, and pointed our rolling cabin toward West Twin Lake.

When we arrived, Al and Linda greeted us warmly. I hadn’t seen them for a couple of years, and once again there were hugs, laughter and stories.

The Huff family has held reunions over the years that Janice and I have been fortunate to attend, and they are always wonderful gatherings, lots of laughter, fascinating conversations and generations of family history woven together.

By lunchtime we headed into Pequot Lakes.

What a delightful little Minnesota lake town.

Its most recognizable landmark is its water tower, painted like a giant red-and-white fishing bobber. That theme carries through town, with red-and-white planters, trash cans and other touches that give Pequot Lakes its own playful personality.

We stopped at Lucky’s for lunch, and when in Minnesota…

Walleye!

I ordered walleye fish tacos, which were delicious, accompanied by local beer and, naturally, more conversation.

Then it was back to Chuck’s cabin, where the rest of the day unfolded at exactly the pace a day at a Minnesota lake should.

We sat outside beneath the deck overlooking West Twin Lake. We talked. We laughed. We told stories we had heard before and stories some of us had forgotten. We ate some of the pico de gallo we had made a couple of nights earlier, shared wonderful wine and watched the afternoon slowly become evening.

Tad, meanwhile, was delighted with his newest swimming hole and spent time exploring and splashing in the lake.

As I sat there looking at my cousins, something struck me deeply.

I could see my family in their faces.

My mother.

My grandparents.

My aunts and uncles.

There are expressions, eyes, smiles and little mannerisms that somehow survive generations. Because I have lived so far from my Minnesota family for so many years and sometimes go several years without seeing them, those similarities seem especially powerful when we are reunited.

It is almost like traveling backward through time.

The stories take me there, certainly. But so do our faces.

Our shared ancestry is written into us.

And as I looked around that gathering, something else filled me with gratitude.

Janice fits into my family as naturally as if she had been there with us from the beginning.

That has always amazed me and meant so much to me. These cousins share memories with me that stretch all the way back to childhood, people and places, family stories, laughter and experiences from long before Janice and I knew one another. Yet when we are all together, there is no separation between “my family” and Janice. She is simply part of us.

She laughs with them, listens to the old stories, joins the conversations and adds her own warmth and perspective. My cousins embrace her just as naturally. There is an ease to it that can't be manufactured or forced.

I am proud of my family, and I am proud of Janice, my wife and my best friend.

Watching the people I love fit together so organically is something I never take for granted.

Maybe we really are all on the same wavelength somehow.

Whatever it is, sitting there beside West Twin Lake, surrounded by cousins and memories with Janice beside me, I felt extraordinarily fortunate.

I wasn't simply remembering my family. In little flashes and familiar expressions, I could almost see those who came before us again.

And beside me was the person with whom I am creating the next chapters of those memories.

As evening settled over the lake, the sky gave us another show.

We could see a thunderstorm slowly approaching from the west. For nearly an hour we watched flashes of lightning illuminate the clouds, followed by long, rolling rumbles of thunder moving across the Minnesota landscape.

It wasn't a violent storm. There were no frightening bolts striking around us. Instead, the clouds themselves seemed to glow from within.

Al built a fire.

Cece, tired after several busy days surrounding her high school reunion, headed inside for some well-earned sleep. Al, Linda, Janice and I stayed outside.

In front of us, the fire flickered beside beautiful West Twin Lake.

Off to our right, the thunderstorm slowly moved closer, lightning illuminating the clouds as rolling thunder crossed the evening sky.

For a while, nobody needed to be anywhere else.

Eventually we felt the first enormous raindrops.

Then a few more.

Time to retreat.

We went inside just as the sky opened and the rain began pouring down. And there, sheltered from the storm, we did what we had been doing all day.

We kept talking.

More stories. More memories. More laughter.

Eventually the rain stopped as quickly as it had arrived. Janice and I said goodnight and headed back to the motorhome to join Tad, waiting for us patiently  in our rolling home.

We crawled into bed blissfully relaxed and fell asleep almost immediately.

We hadn't traveled very far on Day 9.

But somehow, I had traveled decades.

Back to childhood.

Back to Minnesota.

Back to my mother and Aunt Beth.

Back to grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins whose lives are intertwined with mine.

And through it all was Janice, not as someone visiting my past, but as someone who has become completely woven into my family and the life we share.

Tomorrow we will wake beside West Twin Lake and spend another day with family. We'll remain here through Sunday before heading toward Pine City on Monday, where another wonderful chapter awaits with my sister Lynn, my son Nick, my daughter Ashley, and their families.

But tonight, tucked into our rolling cabin beside West Twin Lake, I am simply grateful.

Grateful for cousins.

Grateful for memories.

Grateful for Janice.

Grateful for the faces that remind us where we came from.

And grateful that sometimes, when you least expect it, the road doesn't just take you somewhere new.

It takes you home.

Day 8: Sept 10, 2026. Jamestown ND to Brainerd, MN

As usual, the signal for beginning the day came from Tad. The answer came from Kasey this time and I slumbered on. The Bison Museum was not open until 10 am so we were in no rush. The other Harvest Host guests were readying themselves for the days journey. Kasey returned with Tad and he crawled back in bed. The coffee brewing filled the air and eventually signaled that it was time to remove it from the flame. We ate breakfast and headed for the Trading Post to see what was interesting.

The parking lot was starting to fill and I thought we would get a peak at the Bison in the field but they made themselves scarce. Perhaps because there had been a few vocal dogs among the guests. 

To our delight, a hand written sign on the door to the Trading Post read ”Dog Friendly” and so we all stepped inside. The owner, Roger, was very talkative and began to engage us in conversation. His wife is retiring soon and they want to move to Oregon or someplace with sand and an ocean. It was end of the season and everything was 25% off.

Roger is a dog fan and told me about a few of the dogs that he’d had including a Golden Retriever and Irish Setter cross. As I talked, Kasey and Tad wondered around looking at all the items for sale. Baseball memorabilia, hunting and fishing items, jewelry, and scores of unique items that we did not need. 

Kasey had spotted a set of statues of Laurel and Hardy and a conversation quickly shifted to nostalgia. Roger said no one remembers them anymore and he was the first to ask about them. Well, pretty soon we had Laurel and Hardy on the counter and in no time, out the door. Once in view, many senior members of society were smiling in recognition ; Kasey with delight.

Once Laurel and Hardy were safely tucked into the motorhome, we stepped into the museum for a historical lesson about Bison. It ain’t pretty. It is sad. 

Luckily, there were people who recognized the plight of the bison before it was too late. Not as numerous as they were historically, the herds have resurged with the help of some notable people both historical and contemporary. 

Bison are remarkable and much preferred over cattle. I became a vegetarian when I was in college because of the cattle industry. Over the years I began to eat other meats and still avoid beef. Bison, I have no problem with and I chose to not support an industry that seeks to influence which predators are removed because they are attacking their non-native herd. The recent focus on lethally removing the Mexican Gray Wolf because it is preying in cattle is disheartening. There are so few of the wolves left and so many unnatural cattle. Maybe the ranchers should raise Bison. 

At least the Bison have good vision and instincts. While swapping cattle for bison would undoubtedly reduce wolf-livestock conflicts and lower livestock mortality, the transition requires substantial upfront capital and a complete shift in management practices. If we ever do shift to Bison as a major source of protein, the health benefits would be a bonus since Bison are lower in fat and rich in iron, zinc, vitamin B12, and omega-3 fatty acids. It all comes down to money. 

We didn’t really see the Bison up close, but just knowing that they are there was important. 

We pointed our vehicle toward the east and set out for Brainerd where Kasey’s cousin, Jesse and his family live. Kasey mapped it out on a Google Maps and I was tasked with filling the silence. We had several hours of driving ahead. Finding a gas station and finding a sanidump were my tasks. Knowing the route we were taking, I found both in easy to access and convenient locations. First stop would be the sanidump so I plotted it in for navigation. Well, something seemed off. We weren’t on the highway I thought we were on. Seems a wrong turn was made when I was doing my research. 

No worries, to get back on track, the route would take us east and then south. At least we didn’t end up in Canada. The little town if Gadena provided an inexpensive and convenient spot to empty our tanks and the town of Baxter is where we filled our gas tank. It would be the last stop before Jesse’s and the last place the credit card, now missing, was used.

At Jesse’s, we maneuvered the RV down into the driveway. Jesse was there to greet us as was his daughter Caroline and a couple of friends. Bud and Rudy were waiting to meet Tad and they all got along swimmingly. We had dinner, salmon, vegetables, and rice. After dinner, we took a walk with all 3 dogs through the neighborhood. One of the houses had a lawn mowing robot. That’s a first for me. 

We settled on the patio for conversation and a fire. Jesse and I started talking about our religious upbringing and although we both were raised Catholic, we have different experiences and similar philosophies about it. We agreed on many aspects and how important it is to be kind, compassionate, and accepting. Nothing wrong with that.

Time to turn in. I looked at my phone and at some point missed a call. The number traced to Baxter. It was then we realized the credit card was missing. I surmise that it is Costco and someone has turned it in but we will have to wait until tomorrow to find out. The dog is exhausted. That is a good thing.