All's Well that Ends Well

"Attitude is the difference between an ordeal and an adventure." ~ Bob Bitchin

Not all my travel is water-based. 

Case in point. A few weeks ago, we drove from southern Missouri out to western Nebraska and South Dakota to take my parents to visit two of my sisters. We took a couple of days to make the 700+ mile trek to the first sister's house near Ogallala, then stayed from a Monday night to the next Thursday morning.

They live on a lovely acreage and keep a small herd of cows. This is Chubby, the newest addition to the group, son of Pumpkin, who I think is my brother-in-law's favorite. All the cows seem to adore him and come running when he calls. (Of course, the sweet corn stalks he feeds them might have something to do with it!)

We had a good visit with my sis and B-I-L, and my niece and her husband. After being over-fed more than the cows for a few days, we headed north through the Sand Hills toward South Dakota.

There is no direct route from Ogallala to Keystone, SD, so we traveled the skinny little lines on the map past Lake McConaughy and further into the back of beyond. 

The terrain began to climb as we traveled north, and we enjoyed riding through the lovely Pine Ridge National Recreation Area near Chadron, NE. We were seeing some lovely sights, making good time, and everyone was happy.

Then we crested a hill and just over the top, we saw three large pieces of jagged metal debris strewn across the highway. There was a double yellow line to our left, which meant the DH couldn't invade the other lane to avoid them. Besides there was a big piece there too. To our right, the land fell away into a deep arroyo, so leaving the highway for the narrow shoulder was not an option. Even if the DH had laid on the brake, there wasn't time to stop and braking might have made the front of the van squat down low enough that the debris could have hit the grill and been thrown up into the windshield. 

So rather than run into a piece of the metal with a tire and, given our highway speed, possibly flip over, the DH straddled the big chunk. The van rumbled over it, getting its guts torn to shreds as we went. Smoke billowed instantly and the DH braked, steered us toward the shoulder, and killed the engine. 

Our passive restraint headrests had blown, but we were all okay.

The DH hiked back up the hill to get a decent cell signal and called 911. The nearest highway patrolman was 100 miles away (Told you we were back of beyond!) so the sheriff's department came out to assist us. They were terrific. 

Then we really caught a break when the truckers whose 18 wheeler had dropped the rear drive train from their rig came back looking for the pieces they had lost. The officers were able to get their IDs and, even more importantly, their insurance information! Then, the deputy called for a tow for our van to the Chadron Chrysler dealership, and a small independent car dealership that would come get us and rent us a vehicle in which to continue our journey. 

As a side note, said vehicle turned out to be of the "rent-a-wreck" variety. We hadn't gone two blocks when the "Check Engine Soon" light came on. I immediately called the dealer.

"Oh, yeah," he said. "We had that looked at last week and thought we figured it out. Guess not. But don't worry. You won't hurt it by driving it!"

Not my immediate concern, but we didn't have a whole lot of options. At any rate, the clunker got us to my second sister's place in the Black Hills without incident, though we did almost hit a deer. Once we made it to Keystone, we called our insurance company and they began working the problem. Our agent asked if we'd like to have the van towed to our hometown to be repaired. YES! Then she arranged for a more roadworthy ride to take us the 990 mile trip from SD back to our home. 

So we were able to continue our visit with my sis & B-I-L without worries. We watched movies in their theater room. My Dad was able to root for his beloved MO Tigers, the Chiefs and the Nebraska Cornhuskers, my B-I-L's favorite team. 

We even managed to play tourist a bit and visited the Chapel of the Hills, an exact replica of a Norwegian stave church. We didn't see one while we were in Norway. There's been a rash of burnings in recent years. The few that remain are quite off the beaten path.

So we found one here in the States. As it turns out, the DH had visited this chapel, which still holds vesper services, back when he was a kid.

He put together this little montage of photos for you: (Side note: if you receive my blog by email, you may have to click over to the post to see the little video!)

 Then we headed home, stopping overnight to see my nephew in Sioux Falls. As I write this now, our van has been shipped home and is in the process of getting a new motor. As you can see, everything did turn out all right, even if our plans didn't go exactly as we intended.

I can't agree with Bilbo Baggins when he said, "Adventures? Nasty, uncomfortable, disturbing things! Make you late for dinner."

But I can sympathize.