The trip begins. Let’s take a look at the digs we’re working with:

So, it seems we have a queen bed (a.k.a. the coffin) above the driver’s seat, a couch that miraculously converts into a full bed, a little dining set that even more miraculously converts into a twin bed, and finally the badass queen bedroom in the back. we also have a shower that we are essentially forbidden to use and a toilet that we are half-forbidden to use, if you catch my drift.

The trip yesterday was a doozie. The crew departed Chicago at 2:30 PM with clear eyes and full hearts, we couldn’t lose. Our sights were set on Lake Mitchell in South Dakota. The driving schedules were already set and each of us drove our alotted 2 hours 15 minutes, excluding myself. My time of reckoning was to come the following day, but we’ll get to that.

Tried reading a book, made it 15 pages. Tried playing chess, but the pieces moved around too much. Tried doing pushups, but I fell on my face. I’m already learning a lot about myself, notably that I don’t have what it takes to exist in a recreational vehicle.

I reached my existential pinnacle in the middle of rural Minnesota. We stopped to get gas. Outside there were howling winds with an accompanying chill of 35 degrees. That didn’t stop us from making new friends though. As we emerged from the RV, we laid our eyes on an obese, black man wearing nothing but heart-covered boxers and a wife-beater. Next to him was a similarly obese black women who looked strikingly like a prostitute. Heels, nudity, weird-colored lipstick, etc.  Now normally I don’t accuse people of being sex workers without proper evidence, its just not my way. However, this case was incredibly obvious. I don’t imagine any scenario where this poor woman would lack so much clothing with such chilling temperatures, unless her living truly depended upon her cleavage. Anyway, it brought me to consider the different forms that love can take and how each one is special in its own way. And then I thought about Arby’s. There was one across the street from the gas station so I ran there barefoot and ordered chicken tenders, curly fries, and so much ranch. Let me tell you: there are a lot of things I do in my life that make my parents proud, I think. But I have doubts that my mother would feel such a way if she had seen me eating Arby’s alone in the pitch-dark of the RV. The car would exert a certain jolt every couple seconds so I had to hold the curly fries between my legs, the ranch in my left hand, the chicken tenders in my mouth, and the Steel Reserve in my right hand. By the way, Minnesota may be creepy at times, but they sold me a 4-pack of 16 oz Steel Reserves for 3 dollars so the state is alright in my book. Anyway, my right hand left the Steel Reserve to reach for the crotch fries at the exact moment we hit one of those lovable jolts in the road and my beer was gone like that. What’s even sadder than the lost beer? My lost dignity and the night spent sleeping on the beer-soaked dining set/bed.

We finally arrived in Lake Mitchell at 2:30 AM with plans to wake up at 7:45. That plan came true. As rough as the morning may have been for the night owls out there, feel grateful that yours was nothing like mine. When my phone vibrated at 7:45, I didn’t realize we had to be on the road at 8:00 sharp, I didn’t understand that it would be 36 degrees outside, and I didn’t comprehend just how viciously I would need a shower. With swift grace, I ran barefoot in the cold to the campground showers. For those who don’t know about campground showers: let me illuminate you. It is so incredibly generous to call these things “showers”. “Ice Burst” would be more fitting I think. So the way this Ice Burst worked was that every 3 seconds I had to fully push down a nearby button that would send out a pulse of icy water, probably clocking in around 45 degrees. The water was seriously so cold to a point that as my body trembled and shivered, it was difficult to keep the shampoo contained in my hand and also periodically press the button with sufficient speed. After a 45-second shower and 15 button-pushes later, I sped away and recovered to the point where we managed to take some real classy pictures of us at Lake Mitchell:

Ladies, restrain yourselves: Dave is taken, but Geoffrey with the sexy hair flip is most definitely on the market.

So we headed out for the day with our destination set for Keyhole, Wyoming with  hopeful stops at a Wal-mart, Mt. Rushmore, and Devil’s Tower along the way. Stay tuned to hear about the great deals we get on bananas, who my favorite founding father is, and my views on satanical towers and their place in a modern, capitalist society.