So, we already covered the “Ice Burst” fiasco. The next step is to get into the RV and head to Mount Rushmore, as far away from those evil showers as possible. Curious about how the drive went? Of course you are, you’re on smelliots. Instead of cracking some joke, I’ll just post these two pictures to sum it up:

Good ride. Roach and Dave were the first two shifts, 2 hours a piece to get us the 4 hours to Mount Rushmore. Do you know what a cockroach and an abnormally tall hick from Charlotte have in common? Practically nothing, I would be amazed if you knew the answer to this question. The common connection is that they both love pounding down Steel Reserves once their driving duties are finished. Alas, the RV showed a distinct dearth of Steel Reserve and we needed to replenish at a gas station near Rushmore. In most states, humans experience a pretty ordinary set of sensations when dealing with a gas station. South Dakota, however, has completely expanded on what it means to sell gas to its citizens. When I entered the station, I came across an amenity I truly never expected. I wandered into a room full-to-the-brim with stuffed animal carcasses, ranging from the very cute to the ferociously fierce. Take a look:

At that very moment I had a surprisingly strong desire to buy a bunch of gas. Well played, South Dakota gas station. Anyway, Roach and Dave get their precious beer and we make it to Mount Rushmore.  I need to address a small detail that surprised me. There is an immeasurable number of Asians who frequent Mount Rushmore. These weren’t Asian-Americans, or even Asians who were visiting American relatives. I checked.  Its not like they visited here on the way to some other tourist attraction, its South Dakota. These thousands of Asians traveled across the globe to visit Mount Rushmore. Maybe I’m overthinking this but what is going on. Americans don’t even go to South Dakota. Most Americans probably couldn’t even name which four presidents are on the mountain. But apparently there is a significant population of Asia who has seen all this first-hand and has an in-depth knowledge of our country’s beginnings. Why do they care? Anyway, the mountain was dope. Geoffrey asked one of the Chinese families to take a picture for us in his native tongue. Here’s the crew enjoying one of America’s great majesties:

I thought it was interesting how Theodore Roosevelt looks like a total loser here. He’s just poking his head out, waiting for the day his rock wig is as rocking as Washington’s rock wig. Tough luck Roosevelt, not gonna happen. I get that he was a great president, but he was so clearly an afterthought when considering America’s greatest presidents. In fact, here is the original envisioned design:

I know what you’re thinking: It kind of looks like the premise for a reality television show where three gay dads raise a son in a non-traditional household setting. Except the son is actually the greatest country on the planet. We didn’t stay for very long. We were on a tight schedule because we still had plans to stop at Devil’s tower and end our day’s journey in Keyhole State Park before the sun sets. Camo Dave, Brickface, and Nasty Nas were jonesing for some fishing time while the sun was still in the sky. With that in mind, we hustled over to Devil’s Tower in Wyoming. For those who don’t know what Devil’s Tower is, basically a bunch of lava flowed for millions of years and made a rock formation that sorta looks like a majestic bundt cake. We all know how much the Devil loves bundt cake. It is also topped off with the flaming eye of Mordor, and orc hordes regularly patrol the surrounding area on an hourly basis. Even more than orcs, apparently the Devil is also really really into prairie dogs. We parked the RV near the tower and completely surrounding us were thousands of acres of prairie dog holes. It was astonishing how friendly they were, depsite being demon messengers. We all got really close to the ground and started cooing at them, because it only takes a couple seconds to become a prairie dog whisperer. They refused to let me pet them and I wasn’t sure how else to put up a facebook-like-worthy video. We tried feeding them Honey Nut Cheerios but the bastards knew what we were trying to do. Prairie dogs don’t have facebooks so obviously they don’t give a fuck. Anyway, about 20 minutes passed before we remembered that the Devil’s Tower was behind us. It was pretty cool. We snapped a quick pic and we were off:

On to Keyhole. It was my turn to drive the RV and to everyone’s utter surprise, we survived. Camo Dave was so excited to fish that he jumped out of the RV door while I was still pulling into the campground, his shorts ripped clean off as it got stuck on the door handle. He had ingested Steel Reserves by this point. Dinnertime was here and we had everything we needed to grill. Raw burgers and dogs and a grill, booyah. No lighter? no problem. No lighter fluid? no problem. No spatula? Ha, fuck that, we’ll flip the patties with our hands like real men. In all seriousness though, we were real underprepared and had to appeal to our campground neighbor for supplies. The guy was surprisingly generous, but we were on our own for the spatula. We flattened a Steel Reserve, stuck a stick into it, wrapped the whole deal in aluminum foil and called it a day. We wanted to thank the mystery man for his good deeds by offering our supply of Steel Reserve, but he retorted that he only drinks his own homemade brews. Bad. Ass. Probably the coolest yet creepiest guy I have come across. We ended the night with a bonfire. We held hands and sang “American Pie” while burning Dave’s shorts. Slumbered on the kitchen table set again. Good night. In the morning we make our way to the great Yellowstone Park: I’ll keep you updated.