-- Houston, We Have a Problem... (Day 3)

We woke up to rain, rain, rain, and my mom wouldn’t get her butt out of bed. Not even my wet nose on her foot made her flinch. Lazy woman.

 

Finally, my dad said we could get breakfast at the cafe.  That made her move.  I slobbered while she ate scrambled eggs and toast, and Dad ate bacon and sausage. Holy crap, my own breakfast tasted like dog food. Oh yeah, it was dog food.

 

Today we headed to Montana. As we drove north, I could see snow on the mountaintops.  Luckily, I have a full-time fur coat.

 

 

Our first stop was in Idaho Falls. The Olive Garden sign caught my eye immediately. LOVE their breadsticks.

 

 

Dad said to wait in the car.  Huh?  No way.  This is really starting to give me a complex.

 

 

 

What else was there to do but sleep until they came back.  And Dad is the most-awesomest-dad-that-ever-walked-the-face-of-the-earth.  He brought me breadsticks!

 

Why bother to chew them when you can swallow ‘em whole?

 

 

The GPS in the Supervan has worked well on this trip...until today.  Mom took the wheel and the GPS lady said to get onto the I-15.  Dad helped Mom maneuver into the right lane and soon we were on our way...on the wrong highway.  We were supposed to take the 20.  Thanks a lot, GPS lady -- you just added another 22 minutes to our drive to Montana. 

 

Dad didn't take this detour too well (but he didn't blame Mom (whew!) -- she was only following the GPS lady.)  However, he did use those familiar 4-letter words he says during Rams games...

 

Oh well, Mom kept her cool and drove on.  The scenery was awesome along the way.  I watched out the window to my right at some red-colored mountains.

Ahh, I was happy; I had 2 breadsticks in my belly and I started dozing. Then I saw the Montana state sign!

 

 

 

Mom continued to steer the ship until we reached a city called Dillon. I wondered if it was named after Matt Dillon, the actor, but it turned out that the city was named after a railroad executive.  Maybe they’ll name a city after me someday... Tank City, Somewhere, USA.  Has a nice ring to it, huh?

 

Dad took the wheel.  We drove through a cool town that my Aunt Teeta and Uncle George told me about:  Twin Bridges, Montana.

 

Aww Aunt Teeta, I wish you were here with us...

 

Aunt Teeta says there are lots of fishies there, and boy-oh-boy, I’d love to chase a few in those streams.

 

After yet another nap, I woke up in a town called Belgrade.  Dad said we needed to go to the Bozeman Airport to pick up a rental car. This way, we can park the Supervan and drive around Bozeman without having to move the Supervan from the RV park. 

 

 

 

Dad followed us to the RV park.  As luck would have it, there were so many trees that Dad couldn’t tune in the satellite.  This, people, is a travesty.

 

I looked over at Mom.  “Uh-oh” was written all over her face. 

Dad moved the Supervan forward...

 

 

 

...but that didn't help.  So he moved it backward...

 

 

...but that didn't work either.  And so he even tried it sideways...

 

(well he would if he could)

 We even tried 3 other campsites.  Still no satellite picture on the TV. 

 

As usual, Mom made the fatal mistake of trying to offer her unsolicited advice.  When will my mom learn that in times such as these, it’s best to proceed with caution -- don’t poke the bear.

 

Then Dad said "Maybe we should consider staying in a hotel..."  

Noooo!  This is a Superadventure in the Supervan!  We can’t stay in a hotel.  

That’s when Mom and I asked for help from a higher source: we looked to the Heavens...

  

...please help my dad find the southern exposure through these pesky trees...

 

 

Our prayers were answered -- suddenly, I heard the sweet voice of Neil Cavuto on the TV.  Yes!  There is a God. 

After an exhausting day, I settled in for the night.  I’m gonna dream of breadsticks tonight...