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Fellow Americans: you may think you love donuts, but you do not love donuts. You like, enjoy, and occasionally consume donuts. Canadians LOVE donuts. They have Tim Horton’s the way Americans have Subways. I mean they are EVERYWHERE. And when you walk into that Tim Horton’s, you will wait in a line, because at least half a dozen Canadians got there before you. Because they LOVE donuts. And when they get those donuts, they might even sit down and eat them off a plate, instead of gulping them down while driving away, like an American. Really something to behold.

So after a couple stops at various Tim Horton’s, we made it into Banff. Banff is different from American national parks. It’s simultaneously more developed, resort-style, and more desolate and creepy feeling than an American national park. It’s hard to describe but it gave me a weird feeling.

The Trans-Canada highway from Calgary to Vancouver goes right through Banff, so when you pull up to the park entrance, you have to explain where you’re going so they can charge you accordingly. The unbelievably French Canadian working the booth was not exactly helpful. When we admitted we weren’t sure where we were headed for within the park, she visibly drew back in alarm. We laughed about that one for awhile. If French-Canadian people are so easily taken aback it’s no wonder they don’t control any territory larger than Quebec.

(Zach also claims that there was a funny campsite manager who I made fun of for being excessively Canadian, but I don’t recollect her. Mock them and leave them, that’s my style.)

The general feel of the park was very different from Glacier or Devil’s Tower. It was less nature-y/outdoorsy/hiker-y, and more Family Vacation Destination. Where American national parks attract a very specific type of vacationer (a nerdy one), Banff seems to draw people who would love to visit Disney World except their country doesn’t have one. Yet at the same time, the woods are very tall and quiet and dark and unnerving. Kind of like Jeff Goldblum.

We followed a paved path along a river which was very pretty. It ends at a waterfall, and when you reach the lower falls, you can walk through a cave-tunnel and come out basically under the falls. It’s very cool, especially considering that the little spot is (mostly) non-man-made.

After eating a delicious camping dinner (a couple tins of beef stew) we retired for the night. It was already getting chilly, but we had no idea what we were in for. Internet, it was COLD in Banff that night. Like, ICE ICE BABY TOO COLD (TOO COLD).

We both woke up multiple times to groan and shiver and be cold. I don’t think I’ve ever locked up in a fetal position so tight and small, trying to stay warm. I was circled up so close I probably looked like a dog sleeping on too-small rug.

We had planned on staying two nights, but I couldn’t take any more punishment like that. The next morning we decided to make like Al-Qaeda and blow the place.

Too soon?

We broke for the border and they let us in! The super-Canadian dude at the booth deemed us worthy after a few questions. Now we are in the land of Sportscentre, washrooms and Poulet McCroquettes.

We set a goal for Calgary so that we could be in a hotel near Banff National Park to head there the next day. This time we did not get a reservation so I was left just picking a place at random and asking for their rate. The 10 year old I’m travelling with was excited that I grabbed the one with a waterslide. Our Super 8 was reasonable, especially since they’ve rebranded. I find that very important.

Actually I just got through bitching about Super 8’s rebranding. First of all it is not an improvement on their logo at all. They did the 90s/early 2000s “trick” of taking the previous idea and putting it through a windtunnel. They basically hit Skew on Illustrator and dragged the bottom right corner up and to the right a little and added some gloss to the text. Is that going to bring Super 8 up to date with their clientele? Was Brosius really dying for a more aerodynamic hotel room?

Anyway, the girl behind the desk was friendly enough and our room was actually a suite. And yes, Jayne did go down the waterslide.

Next door to Canadian Super 8 was Canadian Wal-Mart. We needed to replenish our soda, orange juice and Kool-Aid Jammers stocks so we drove over. We spent most of our time marvelling at people. The number of times we thought (or said) “Man you’re Canadian”… Why did everybody look like they were on meth? Boardshorts, dark socks and work boots were very common. We also saw a few people who were clearly under the influence of something and it wasn’t Molson Ice.

To complete the Americans-in-Canada triangle, we decided to see how they do Papa John’s. Another thing that transcends cultures is the type of dudes who work at a Papa John’s.

For our second day at Glacier, Zach and I wanted to take a big old hike. We wanted to take a one-way loop hike, since nothing is less interesting than turning around at a halfway point and taking the same walk again, only more sore and tired this time.

This meant taking the Highline Trail. It starts at Logan Pass and ends at The Loop, which is 12 miles in all. NBD.

So after dragging ourselves out of the tent once it got too hot to remain under the sleeping bag and brewing some Crabbiness Reduction Potion (aka Jayne’s tea) we drove up to Logan Pass.

The little synopsis in the newspaper they hand you whenever you drive into any National Park said that the hike would take 7-8 hours. Once we got to Logan Pass we realized that the last shuttle to bring us back to our car would be leaving in less than 8 hours. I am proud that this only made me fret incessantly, rather than cancel the entire hike.

The National Parks are interesting in the way they warn you of danger, i.e. that they just assume you’re not going to be an idiot. There are no fences around the Grand Canyon, and this Highline Trail had no guardrails to keep you from careening down the alpine meadows. There was a single sign reminding you to bring your own water, but that’s it. For many parts of this hike you walk a narrow path along a rock face, often crossing streams or loose rocks. It’s pretty rad.

The first leg is uphill, leading up to a little plain with boulders to sit on and summer snow to gawk at. It’s a good place to eat lunch and let the fat squirrels crawl over your boots and beg for scraps.

Wild animals begging for food drives me nuts because it is living proof of how dumb people are. They see a cute/majestic/noble wild animal, they feel a natural yearning to connect somehow with that animal, and so they…give it a treat. Just like tossing Greenies to Fido back home. Idiotic.

The middle part of the hike was truly amazing. I’m not exactly John Muir so I’ll let Zach’s photos show you how beautiful and exhilarating it was.

The last three miles are all downhill. “Great,” you think. “Going down, easy!” No. Going steeply downhill for three miles just basically destroys your knees and ankles. When I realized this I almost started crying. It was only the knowledge that Zach is (probably) not physically capable of carrying me down a mountain that kept me from just giving up right there.

Feeling extremely weary, we did make it down to shuttle in plenty of time (less than 6 hours). When I saw that bus I could have kissed the driver.

We crowded aboard only to see that it was crammed to the gills with old people seeing the park in air-conditioned style. The driver tried to tell Zach there was no room for him, but when he sat on my lap the driver made no objections.

When we got back to Logan Pass I waddled as fast as I could up to the visitor center, intent on buying about a gallon of Gatorade. Guess again, friends – the visitor center does not sell an ounce of liquid. I settled for drinking as much water as I physically could from the drinking fountain. As I staggered back to the car my entire abdomen sloshed ‘glorp glorp.’

Although the car was in sight, one physical challenge remained – a big horn sheep was patrolling the parking lot like a straight up player. I don’t know if he was looking for ladies or hoping to lap up some antifreeze but he definitely had that wicked devil-eyes thing going on that goats have.

Then we drove back to camp and I complained about being sore all the way to Canada.

We had our first multi-night stay in one place here in Glacier. We took off from Helena at a decent hour to ensure that we got to the park on time. We had read that Glacier campgrounds were known to fill up. Having spent a night or two on the side of the road or in an Albertson’s parking lot in the past, I knew Jayne would not be down with that. Although it was a fun part of the adventure as a kid, now that I’m an adult I have to worry about all the things that come along with that. Like what if a cop shows up? The “but I’m 10, this is the doings of my crazy parents” excuse doesn’t work when you’re the guy behind the steering wheel.

On the way up, Jayne was checking this site for Glacier campground availability anytime we entered an area that had cell phone coverage. Which was very limited, considering the biggest town we saw on the way there had a gas station that was guarded by an “attack cat” and advertised pop and candy for sale. The pop and candy was kept in one lone refrigerator inside the garage office. We rolled in on the eastern part of Glacier Park and went straight to the first campground (St. Mary’s). The cheerful park ranger recommended that if Rising Sun was available we check that out for tent camping. She said it was more sheltered and tent-campers preferred that one. We got in and chose one of the last spots. By 4 pm the campground was totally full.

On the way to Rising Sun, after being in the park for less than 5 minutes. I saw a bear. It was in the road way up ahead and a few cars were approaching from the other direction. It was moving very quickly and hopped across the road and shot up the hillside on the side of the road. We had already been warned to be on the lookout for bears. They were on high alert for bears and anything not in use (including makeup and soap and stuff) had to be inside a hard sided vehicle. While we were putting up the tent a ranger came by and told Jayne that a bear was in the north loop of the campground. That was it for bears though. I was really hoping, in the right, safe circumstance, that we would get to see one. My encounter from way down the road just wasn’t good enough.

Once we got in to our site, we decided to drive across the park. Coming in on the east side we realized there was quite a bit to see. Glacier is a huge park. There are tons of trails, several entrances and one main highway that cuts through it. The highway is over 50 miles long from eastside to westside. The maximum speed limit is 45 miles an hour and most of the time you are driving winding on the very narrow edge of a mountain, some of which is down to one lane due to an 8 year construction project.

Our main goal was finding some food. We had a camp stove and canned food/items to cook with but we were still slightly paralyzed at the bear thing. To be honest, I was less scared of the bear and more afraid I wasn’t fully understanding the campsite regulations. I mean I couldn’t have toothpaste out, but I’m allowed to cook up a beef stew? I guess a person has to eat when camping but does a bear have to brush his teeth?

There were some food services on Lake Macdonald which was 30+ miles away. It was early evening but we figured it would take a few minutes to get there. About halfway there, after the Logan Pass visitor center, construction started to pick up and we were stopped several times to wait in line for the one lane road. They were leading strings of traffic with pilot cars and stoplights. The already narrow road was even more narrow with bulldozers pushing around in the other lane.

We definitely didn’t arrive at Lake Macdonald until dinner time anyway. There was a grill/”pizzaria” called Jammer Joe’s. I think the “Jammer” had something to do with the weird old-fashioned shuttles the park uses. They are old Ford bus type things that have been renovated to run on propane. I did my part to wipe out the buffalo population again and had a buffalo sausage and pepper dish and Jayne had pasta primavera. We walked over to Lake Macdonald (the lake) after dinner to see what was up. There were renovated boats being used for short tours around the glacial lake and there were people hanging out on the “beach” of the lake. The weather was nice and sunny and several people had their shoes off and were wading in the cool lake. There was a creek that runs down the hill in to the lake and people were walking through that too. Still everyone was clothed. Except one lady. I’m no prude or anything, especially when it comes to the female side of things but Jayne and I couldn’t figure out what this lady’s situation was. She was just chilling in a leopard print bikini. Something that I wouldn’t really question in Florida or even the Res. Although Glacier is a vacation destination, it is a vacation destination for nerds who want to learn about how the valley was formed and how the gravel was smoothed out by the massive glacier. More than anything, it was comical to watch a bikini-clad woman stand around among families who were wearing matching crocs, matching glasses, matching sensible Columbia hiking shorts, those floppy pith helmet type hats you probably would buy at Cabela’s and were smeared in 70 SPF.

I didn’t let her distract me too much as I had business to handle. My family and I were in Glacier about 10 years ago and years before that we’ve taken plenty of other trips that included water with rocks by them. This typically lead to rock-skipping contests. I had actually forgotten about the possibility until at Lake Macdonald when I saw a little boy showing his younger brother how to skip a rock. I basically threw my camera at Jayne and ran to the edge of the water looking for a good rock. Jayne says that I actually did the cartoony rubbing the hands together thing as I bent 90 degrees looking for one. I wish I had the luxury of teaching my little brother how to skip a rock because my little bro, Tyler, pretty much schooled me when it came to that. I decided to use my camera’s video function and send a rock skip over to Ty from one park to another. Ty’s currently working with SCA (Americorps-type stuff) in a New Hampshire park. I’m sure when he’s not busy hugging a tree, he’s skipping a rock or two too. I’m super proud of his work there and abroad and can’t wait to go visit him there this fall.

The best I ever got was 8-10 skips. I remember one time Tyler had one in the 20s. My older brother Justin was damn good at it too.

Our trip down to the lake was just going to be a quick walk to see what it looked like and what was available boat wise but we ended up just hanging out for a while, skipping rocks and walking through the creek. At the other end of the lake was Apgar Village. We checked that town out before it got too late in the evening. Jayne got some huckleberry icecream (they were REALLY pushing the huckleberry) and we picked out a somewhat useless trail hiking book. We were in the market for a good day long hike to do. We ended up deciding on the Highline Trail and went back to the campsite with plans to get up the next morning and hike it. We returned relieved to find that no bear had slept in our tent or eaten our porridge.

Today was spent mostly on the road. We’re in Helena, MT for the night at fake cinnamon roll smell infused Holiday Inn Express. Our goal today was to get as close to Glacier National Park as we could from Devil’s Tower.

We came across southern Montana and turned right at the Yellowstone left, Glacier right intersection. Southern Montana was really pretty but I just have that sense of “we’re really far away from everything else” that I don’t care for in places to live in. Towns we stopped in were definitely cool though. It seemed like people, despite being really into horses, were pretty cool people.

After a stop in Billings at local burger expert Hardee’s, we analyzed the map and realized our original goal of Great Falls, MT for the night was not even on the quickest route to Glacier. Helena was though and it had the added bonus of being the state capital if you enjoy crossing silly milestones off your list.

In Helena we tried to catch up on our Internet and then went out in search of a steakhouse. The two options on most searches for “Helena steakhouse” were Applebee’s and some place called Silver Star. After weighing the pros and cons carefully, Silver Star won our business. It was a nice evening out so we ate on the porch and there appeared to be some conferences going on in town. For what we couldn’t determine but I believe one involved self-satisfied overweight men and another involved depressing spinsters who eat alone with their legal pads at steakhouses.

On the way home, I wanted to see the capitol proper so we stopped outside and I stood in the intersection to get you the lovely shot above. Coming from states that have beautiful domes (even on our old capitols) I was disappointed to see that at 9:30pm the capitol wasn’t even lit up.

The evening finished with running in to that same spinster across town in our hotel elevator where she grumpily gave me advice on acquiring ice. Helena was good to us.

Devil’s Tower for me carries some awesome old memories with it. Our trip definitely has a lot of “things Zach hasn’t seen before” but it does overlap with some previous Sanderson family vacation destinations. I’m definitely saying things like “When I was here last…” but am trying not to make it seem like comparisons: “It was much more fun last time I was here.” One thing that is certainly different, I’m in control of the steering wheel this time ’round.

When we went to Devil’s Tower (1993 maybe?) my brothers and I jumped out of the camper and played some ball in the campground. There was a river nearby but I don’t think Justin had his new fishing pole yet since he got that in Cody. He probably had to resort to throwing the mini football with his dorky younger brothers. I seem to remember the campground having fewer places then. I think that night mom cooked up a roast beef dish that was delicious after coming in with cold cheeks.

Sorry, the above paragraph wasn’t for your benefit unless you are me, Tyler or Justin. That was an awesome stop on our trip. We ended up hiking up to the visitor center exactly as Jayne and I did…

…in the PRESENT. Which is where we are now.

Now familiar with our new tent Jayne and I had the thing up in no time, complete with an awesome view of the tower. We got there at a reasonable hour to ensure a camping spot and we got one with a pretty nice flat driveway which I would later discover was prime RV parking as I watched huge contraptions fit for Cole Trickle drive by and covet the even gravel and wide turnout. Early bus gets the worm though, grandpa.

We headed straight for the visitor center which was about a two mile hike up the side of the hill that Devil’s Tower rests on. To get to the hill, our trail passed a prairie dog town. If you are not familiar, picture big mole hills with that dramatic hamster rodent chirping on top of them. Each hill is spaced evenly apart. Prairie dogs are basically the American suburbanite of the animal kingdom. Similar-looking homes, evenly spaced out with enough room to feel like they own something but not far apart enough that they get scared, accomplishing nothing but barking at any sign of potential danger.

Past the prairie dog town was the trek up the hill. The trail was marked and a steady dirt path but very narrow. It looked more like a small drainage ditch. I remember taking the trail as a kid but for some reason remember it being a lot wider. Could be because I was three feet tall then.

Halfway up the hill the wind started to blow and I thought I could hear rain in the trees further up the hill. 10 seconds later we were getting dumped on. Not thirty feet up the trail from us was the most perfect overhang. It was really cool. It looked like something from a villain’s lair in Masters of the Universe or something. The peak of the overhang was like a giant eagle’s beak hanging over to protect us.

The rain blew past pretty quickly and we hiked on, a little cooler and damper.

We saw a total of two people on the trail the whole time we were on it. This was because the same destination could be accomplished by car. When we got to the visitor center at the end of the trail we saw tons of people. The parking lot was full and flip-flop bedecked kids were crawling all over the boulders.

One family stood out to me. I tried to be cool and relax as a twenty-five year old lucky enough to not have to cart a child on my five week trip. These guys were all over the place though and there were four boys in the family. I tried to draw parallels with our visit in 93 but all I could do was hope that I was not near as annoying as Trevor, Kelvin (parents must be big temperature fans) and Reid. If I was, Mom, I apologize.

In my defense I wasn’t named Kelvin though.

The tower speaks for itself:

If you look carefully, it almost looks like several human faces, carved right into the mountain! Of course, we now know that it’s a trick of light and shadow, but still, the illusion is quite convincing, isn’t it?

Mount Rushmore was the national park with the least “national park”-type feel. For instance, fewer Canadians. Also, a perfectly smooth, paved path with several even steps was listed as a “strenuous” hike. Also, the sheer quantity of ice cream.

Probably 75% of the people I saw at the monument and the lodge were eating ice cream. The town down below (Keystone, SD) is a town built on ice cream advertisements. While we walked around the monument, we heard a bratty little child in front of us shriek at his caregiver for ice cream, upwards of ten times, in two languages. She did NOT tan his backside for this, which I thought was an interesting parenting choice.

I was amazed to see how many children got their own dish of ice cream, since one serving of ice cream was literally about 3/4 of a pint. Zach and I split one. As a childless person, I like to judge other people’s parenting. It makes me feel good. It makes me feel strong.

In the evenings, they run a little patriotic film about the accomplishments of the four presidents along with a lighting ceremony. Afterward they invited current and retired military people down to the stage to be thanked. It was all quite stirring and patriotic.

As soon as the program finished, everyone turned around to leave. Except for one kid who instead charfed up a big pile of puke at the top of the stairs. Probably had too much ice cream.

I’m no Paris Hilton but camping was definitely not anything my family did. Zach comes to this project with lots of family wisdom on how to choose the best campsite and how to operate a camp shower, and I basically contribute the ability to say when I am hungry and complain about bugs.

So I’ve been learning a lot of new things on this trip. One thing that I’ve learned is that national parks are full of nerrrrrrds.

At our campground, I saw one guy sitting outside his wagon with a box next to him proudly labeled “Books for X-Country Trip.” Now don’t get me wrong, I brought books to read on the trip too. But the difference between me and this guy was that I did not lovingly hand select which vintage paperbacks I would bring with me, while chuckling along to “Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me” on NPR and sipping on Smuggington Grove’s Eco-Sustainable Chardonnay. I have a very strong feeling that this guy did.

There was an astronomy program listed for that evening. We didn’t exactly have any nightclub openings to hit up so off to stargaze we went. The skies in the Badlands are incredibly dark so you can really see an astonishing number of stars. The Milky Way is huge and bright and Jupiter is basically enormous.

I even learned some new facts about stars, because there were no less than three astronomers present to share their thoughts on stars. I hoped there would be a question and answer period because I wanted to ask them what exactly the applied purpose of astronomy is in 2009. Apparently there are people who still learn lots of stuff about constellations past the age of 10, who knew?

They had some fancy-pants telescopes set up for us, but since the amphitheater was near a road, plenty of people kept driving by with headlights or walking with flashlights. Obviously, light can undo your night vision, forcing you to not look at stars for a little bit while your eyes readjust.

Eventually the guy with the biggest telescope reached his breaking point and he walked down to the road and yelled, “NO WHITE LIGHT! WHITE LIGHT BAD! WE are TRYING to DO ASTRONOMY!”

He said this last not unlike a person would say “I am TRYING to SAVE THIS CHILD’S LIFE!” or “I am TRYING to DISABLE THIS BOMB!”

Continuing our tour of Iowan celebrity homes, Jayne and I headed west to confusing name triumvirate member Sioux City, Iowa. Our friend from way back, Lauren, is now an anchor at the ABC affiliate out there. Because we didn’t know when we’d actually be taking off on our journey west to escape religious persecution (too soon?), we gave Lauren a whole 24 hours max of notice. Being a veteran newswoman who works on tight deadlines and thrives on her flexibility, Lauren made it work. She was anchoring two shows Sunday but would be able to squeeze us in between the two.

After a harrowing hunt for a big cooler in a Wal-Mart*, we met Lauren and Travis for dinner at Monterey Mexican Restaurant. Our last time round in Sioux City we ate there and it didn’t disappoint. Plus, it was close to the coolers. It was good, but this isn’t no food blog so moving on.

We then followed Lauren back to her station in downtown Sioux City and watched her and her co-workers (all attractive 20 something ladies) prepare for their 10 o’clock show. This included filming bumpers and checking the facts on stories about car chases and self-defenestrations. It also included hairspray to live up to the profession.

Since Lauren’s station makes its way out to Spencer and Estherville I had seen her in action but not truly live. We did get to watch her PA (that’s production assistant for you people who know NOTHING about TV news) at NBC in Cincinnati. Earlier in Estherville we had been watching her take care of business. It’s pretty awesome. No matter where you are, you grow up watching local news and learning their schtick and developing your news crushes (I’m looking at you Beth Malicki, Catherine Nero and Heather Cabot) and basically treating those people like local celebrities. Then all of a sudden you are having a late night snack with one of those people you’ve known for years in an all night Greek diner in western Iowa.

Lauren handles that celebrity status with grace too. We got to witness some dude hit on her by announcing his plans to eat 20 pieces of french toast. I was half expecting him to dedicate his feat to her. She brushed him off a lot more kindly than I would have.

It’s definitely cool to know your friends are off doing cool stuff and not just hanging out at the bar down the street from where you grew up.

* Did you know you could take the same cooler slap some “fishing rod holders” on it, paint it white and call it “Marine” and charge $12 more?

Before kicking off the trip, Jayne and I visited her parents in Estherville. They recently moved to the northwest Iowa town and so this was only our second visit to their new place. The first time being in January. I was glad to see they actually had a front yard and front door and the mound of snow wasn’t a landscaping choice Jayne’s mom planned on sticking with.

The main goal for Lady visits is maximizing time with each other. This sometimes results in no one getting showers until midday because that would involve stepping away from the group.

Estherville is very close to Okoboji (for non-Iowans Okoboji is like Cancun for Iowa contractors and their teenage blonde daughters). I’d never actually been there when people were there since I’ve only been by when the lake was frozen. It definitely had that laid back resort feel and we were soaking it in. Each day we ventured in to the Boje for something. We had dinner at Smokin’ Jake’s next to Ruebin’s. This is important on the guided tour because this is where legendary Iowa Rock and Roll Hall of Famer Dave Lady and his band the Fabulous Traidmarx play occasionally.

Also on the tour is another Traidmarx haunt: the Barefoot Bar. This was kinda like Porky’s except the fat chicks weren’t naked. I was feeling the vibe there. The stage that is sometimes graced by the Traidmarx had a very quiet classic rock cover band fronted by a dude with an accordion. This caused me to bring up my requisite comment about how the accordion, like the name Anthony, transcends all cultures. We sat at the edge of the patio which falls in to the lake. While there we ran in to an old neighbor of Jayne’s who chatted for awhile but had to get going because he had to pick up his wife. He then hopped in his boat and went off to pick her up…in his boat.

Jayne’s dad is a breakfast and coffee fan so the next morning we were back at Arnold’s Perk (fulfilling the Friends‘ if there is a park nearby the coffee shop must pun on it rule). Dave was extolling their cinnamon rolls so we were on a mission. According to Okoboji lore, these cinnamon rolls were known to Sell Out Pretty Early. So we were like 10 people deep in the line doing the math on how many cinnamon rolls were out on the counter and how many people in front of us were getting a cinnamon roll. I wouldn’t worry about it. We got one.

Also on our visit we had Spencer Iowa’s famous Chinese food. And you thought they were famous only for that library cat. We went to Spencer to meet up with Melanie’s friend Jackie and her husband Alan. I love hanging out with them because Jackie has the same snark that I possess and Alan loves to joke and ask questions. At one point, I know he and I were discussing what town was featured in the generic backlit Chinese landscape photo that is in about 50% of all Chinese restaurants. We decided the answer was Hong Kong.

South of Spencer lies Sioux Rapids. Sioux Rapids is the confusing part of the triumvirate along with Rapid City, SD and Sioux City, IA (Sioux Falls, SD is a minor ally). They are confusing because the two word cities’ names are interchangeable. If I am talking about one, you can be sure I am meaning one of the other two cities instead.

Sioux Rapids is also home to some of Jayne’s family. We stopped by and visited great aunt and uncle Dolores and Gordon and cousin Paul. Paul and Dave grew up together playing music and rocking sweet haircuts so their conversation normally leads to that. Dolores was closest to Jayne’s grandparents who Jayne never got to meet so Dolores is always good for some great stories from the past. She’s got a great collection of pictures from all of those days including ones of Jayne’s dad with some sweet specs and a dog named Queenie. Dolores taught school for years including during the war and even fought the city to allow her to be married and remain a teacher, something that wasn’t allowed at the time. She’s written a lot of this down and organized a lot of the pictures. I’ll probably be back with a flatbed scanner soon for archival purposes.

Jayne’s mom recently got two kittens. A boy and a girl named Jake and Molly. This ensured that any downtime was filled with chase the string activities or petting a kitty harder and harder until they reacted negatively. To add to the confusion of two kittens, Dave and Melanie’s nickname for Jayne is also “Jake”. I wondered why they were yelling at Jayne to get down off the counter. Mainly because I know they love her so much that they would let her go anywhere she wanted.