Yesterday was one hell of a day. Monica, Neil and I drove to Rapid City. Our intention was to watch Christine and some other friends participate in an Outhouse Race in Nemo. In an Outhouse Race, teams build some sort of structure with a toilet seat in it and then carry said structure while someone sits on said toilet seat. The theme of this race was Harry Potter. Naturally.
Of course it doesn’t matter what the theme was because nature did not intend for us to witness this delightfully absurd little extravaganza. It was dark and snowing when we left and the roads were awful, slowing even this lead footed California speeder down to a crawl. You can’t drive very quickly when you have to navigate your way through snow piles as high as your car. I exaggerate the conditions, but not the frustration. We finally made it to Murdo, where roads were at least plowed and conditions seemed bearable. However, I not only had trouble seeing how to get on the interstate and ran into some snow, but not ten minutes after a kind cowboy in a pick up towed us out, not TEN friggin’ MINUTES, I hit a patch of ice while driving a measly 60 miles an hour, spun wildly about 3 times and ended up in two feet of snow on the side of the road, stuck.
Mom, Grams, concerned citizens, I assure you every single person in the car was absolutely and completely fine. Snow does wonders to cushion any kind of off road experience. No one even had any shaken nerves.
It took us longer to get ahold of a tow truck company open at 8 am on a Saturday morning than it did for them to finally arrive. After sitting in the snow for some time and then resuming a snail’s pace on the road (Neil was able to drive even slower than usual. I didn’t think it possible. Or legal, on an interstate), we didn’t get into Rapid City until about 30 minutes before the race was to begin. A race about still yet 40 minutes (assuming roads were good, which I wasn’t) away and in a place none of us really knew how to get to (at some point, you just want to tell google maps to shove it).
We decided instead to spend a day hanging out it Rapid which we’ve actually never really gotten to do since whenever we trek to the big city, we have an agenda to accomplish.
I decided to treat myself to something really fancy and bought myself a swanky spatula at a fantastic kitchen supply shop that would have all my money if I had any money. Don’t worry, they have online shopping and I will be creating a wish list come April (yes ma’am, it’s my birthday and I am shameless. Seriously, Mom, cooooookies). Afterwards, we headed downtown to spend a day doing, well, whatever tickled our fancies.
Well, luckily it was a bright gorgeous sunny day so as Neil and Moni did their thing, I took a walk. On actual sidewalks. Surrounded by businesses. There weren’t a whole lot of people, but it was about 20 degrees outside. But still, sidewalks. This walk happened to lead me right past a brew pub downtown, which had a sign displaying their current beers on tap. One of those beers, according to some locals, is a quite elusive pale ale named Chukkar, so I decided it was a sign to stop in (God seems to speak to me a lot in beer. What a good and gracious Lord. Or, I just take any excuse I can get to buy a pint and am probably teetering on blasphemy when I blame that on Jesus. Hmmm. Anyways, back to my beer story). I sat at noon on a Saturday, looking out a wonderfully warm window, sipping my one pint and writing myself a postcard (I had some absolutely lovely advice and words of encouragement to give myself, see the below post), enjoying all the splendor of my little world all by my little self.
Later, we went and had lunch with Karen and her two kids and spent over an hour just talking. I’ve been missing my family lately, and it felt wonderful to just be in the presence of a mom and her adult children.
It may have started out dark, dreary and disastrous, but Saturday turned into really quite a wonderful day.
Also, turns out Christine won her race, so it looks like everyone’s day went well.