Trail of Tears (OK, really smiles)

TOP: Paper moose along the roadside in Montana. They also had paper moose, paper bears, and paper dick cheney's
BOTTOM: the "princess plate" at the 3 forks diner...this single pancake was about 1.5 feet across. The king plate was 3 of them. Really
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We started the drive back southward and got as far as Great Falls on friday night. After yet another good meal...ok, it was a really sucky meal, half of us at a carnival food court, and the other half at a crappy mexican place with no liquor license (THAT should be illegal...refrieds without margaritas) we bed down at the only RV park with space (due to the Montana State Fair being in process). Not so good move on our part, as the "park" was bordered by the state fairground with the carnival going on all night long, a mainline quad train track with coal trains going by all night, and a freeway. It was about 130 decibels, and we didn't get a wink of sleep.
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We headed off saturday morning towards salt lake city, where we were dropping off karen, ben, and gill for their flights home (they all had to work monday am), while cliff, jerry, john and I returned the RV back to phoenix. Now, I have to say, there's NOTHING more interesting than, oh, 24 straight hours being locked in an RV, at 60mph on a 90mph highway, with Cliff and John discussing the wonders of the universe. I tried 3 times to jump out of the vehicle, and jerry, just locked himself in the shower stall. We stopped at Diamond Lill's casino and burlesque parlor in salt lake for dinner; nothing more humorous than a mormon attempt at vice. The women had on overalls for their burlesque wear, the casino's only took tokens and gave out stuffed angels as prizes, and you could only get 3.2 beer...and that after buying a "membership" in the casino social club. Who thinks these things up anyways? Give me Las Vegas...or at least Elliot Spitzer's house. Lumpy like vice...
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We drop off the east coast bound crew, and continue onward to phoenix. Jerry takes point and belts out a surprisingly good version of "Jesus, take the wheel". Way better than cliff singing that jazz crap. We get down to the arizona border, and get our first rain of the entire trip; a massive, drenching monsoon that lasts for hours, further slowing our progress. We finally make cliff's house late sunday evening, clean out the RV, break down and pack for shipping all the bikes, drink a beer, and pass out exhausted.
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It was a great trip, and along with my fellow riders, we have many people to thank. Just a few:

- Steve, Irene, Lauren, and Tyler for putting up john and me in phoenix for our prep work
- Posh, Flash, Lauren and Scott for sharing their home with us in Grand Junction.
- The hell's angel biker who tracked down Karen on the Yellowstone climb
- All the waitresses who took pitty on us and brought us extra-large servings along the way
- The border crossing guard who "let gill back from the other side"
- and, last but not least, Val for putting up with our crap everywhere in her house

Thanks to everyone, and thanks for another outstanding "Lumpy Birthday Adventure"
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"Going to let the butt heal now" Lumpy out