During the night, the wind had picked up considerably, really blowing the tent around. I peeked out and the sky was clear, so there wasn't any storm in the area, so I relaxed, listening to the rainfly flap around. Just like the night before, it was cool and comfortable sleeping.

By the time I got out of bed, deflated the air mattress, packed up most of the stuff inside the tent, and got into the house, everyone was eating the wonderful breakfast Skiv had made. I nearly missed it!

We all got going and packed up to leave, stowing our gear in the pickup that Skiv would drive out to Rapid City (while Penny rode his Sportster, Assignment). We headed out at a good clip and hit I29 north to Brookings.

Penny set a brisk pace of 80+ mph and we made it to Brookings in short order. We stopped for gas. CrowDog's bike was hemorrhaging oil from the front cylinder base gasket--we'd pushed it too hard and it sprung a leak. At our request, we all took it at a bit easier pace when we headed west. Later we stopped at the Harley shop in Pierre where we bought gaskets for it. When we went to leave the shop, somebody had parked in front of me with a bike and trailer, blocking me in. I went back into the shop and said "Whoever has the bike & trailer out front, you've got me blocked in!" A guy came out and moved it forward about 2 feet, then stopped. He said "can you get out now?" I said "no." Apparently he thought both of us were on CrowDog's bike because he said "which is your bike?" I pointed to Fueley and he moved forward enough for me to get out.

We ate lunch in Pierre and had a good time laughing and joking. From there the trip was a blur. Fields full of sunflowers, fields full of nothing, gas stops every 60-70 miles, perfect temperatures, blue skies. Met a guy on an old knucklehead heading our way, and ran into him again later on the road. Had fun cooling off with an ice cube at one gas stop. When there was just a little piece left, I threw it at Sam and it went down her shirt. Eventually, we reached Wall, where we hit the interstate to our exit. Soon, we turned into the driveway to the ranch. It was a long, winding gravel road with a short rise at the end. place sets into the side of a hill and offers a beautiful vista of the surrounding countryside. They had a huge three-car garage with beer cooler and ceiling fan and a nice house with a deck on the front that was perfect for watching the traffic on the interstate several miles out and below us.

When we arrived, we were greeted by Skippy Speedracer, his father, Chuck, and his stepmom Darlene. Very nice people. Chuck turned out to be the perfect host. I assumed he was retired because he didn't leave for work while we were there. He had lots of stories to tell about his days on the rodeo circuit and of the various places he'd lived. He was very entertaining. That first night he brought me a fresh wild turkey feather, still bleeding. I brought it home and display it as a souvenir of our stay with them.

Everyone was hungry, so pizzas were ordered and someone went and got them. It was rather late, after 10:00 PM when they arrived and everyone attacked them. They were gone within 10 minutes! After that it was bedtime.