The Long Journey Home

I said my goodbyes, and was on the road now, still wearing all of my hunting gear, muddy boots and all. This wasn't how I had planned to leave, nor was it when I had planned to leave, but since we had decided to tear down camp, this was the new plan. I had originally planned to get up early on Monday morning and drive throughout the day, stopping only when I just couldn't go any further. I figured I would make it home mid-day on Tuesday, after driving fifteen or sixteen hours the first day and finishing the trip off on Tuesday morning. But, like I mentioned,things didn't pan out that way, and I am thankful for that in hindsight.

I wanted to make it to Gillette, Wyoming sometime throughout the night on Sunday night, or at least to Sheridan, but I seriously miscalculated how tired I was, and I barely made it to Billings. I was concerned about having to add a hotel stay to my trip home, because I really only budgeted for one hotel stay each way. Leaving on Sunday night, added a second stay and really started to stress me about my finances and it took me back to the feelings of anxiety I had when this trip first became a topic of conversation, earlier in year. Things were a little tight anyway, so doing what I do, I tried to find an alternative. I pulled into a truck stop and called Chance, so I could talk with him before he went to bed. He convinced me to just get a hotel room and get a good night's sleep, because the next day would be a long one. I sat there for an hour, doing the math, checking my bank account, and telling myself that sleeping in my truck would totally be okay. But eventually, I caved and went to the Holiday Inn. Good choice, as I quickly discovered that a warm shower after camping in the snow and hunting in the rain all weekend, made me a brand-new person. I slept hard that night.

Monday morning, I was up at 5 am and out the door. I hit the gas station for a cold coffee beverage and quickly made my way on down the road. After driving for a while, I realized that my GPS was taking me home a different way than I wanted to go. I was heading across southern Montana on Interstate 94, which would take me into South Dakota, just north of Spearfish. I wanted to go the same way I had come, which was on Interstate 90, which would take me through the Bighorns, and on around the very northeast corner of Wyoming. I thought maybe I would try to see Devil's Tower as I was passing through. So, I quickly looked for a way to cut down through the country and jump back on Interstate 90. I stopped and found a cut-through. It certainly looked simple enough, but this unexpected detour, scared the living shit right out of me.

I made the right hand turn off of the interstate and made my way on to a road called West Arrow Creek Road, then quickly turned onto East Arrow Creek Road, which just happened to be gravel. That should have been my first red flag. This was a twenty-two mile cut through the country, it wasn't quite daylight yet, and the houses became fewer and fewer as I drove. As it started to get light out, I was taken by the views, this was prime mule deer country and I was hopeful I would see a few. I did see mule deer, and I even had a pheasant fly right in front of me while I was filming a few muleys on the side of the road. That was just the coolest thing. After that, the rest of this detour pretty much went to hell in a hand-basket. As I drove, I noticed that the road was getting a little sketchy, and almost immediately, it felt as though I was driving on a sheet of ice. This is not what I was used to as far as gravel roads go, I grew up on a gravel road and I had driven on them all of my life. This was very different. It was wet but didn't really look muddy. Before I knew it, I was sweating bullets, had both hands tightly gripped on the wheel, I was sitting up in my seat, my shoulders, which hurt all of the time anyway, were tight and cramping, and I was desperately looking for any sign of human habitat, in case I crashed and burned. There was not a house or barn in site for the entire stretch of road, I was on my own, and with no cell signal. I had to keep my foot on the gas to keep from getting stuck, but I couldn't really push very hard because the ass end of my truck was sliding around, and I would be completely sideways in the road before I could take my foot off the pedal. I am dead serious when I say, out of this whole trip, even after driving up and down that damn snow-covered mountain, I was really scared. This went on for eight miles, EIGHT!! Once I got through the worst of it, and the road seemed a little more stable, I saw a sign that you would read if you were heading the other direction, that said something to the effect of "Caution: Road is slick when wet". I rolled down my window and kindly flipped the universal sign of "F*** YOU", to the sign, then I almost threw up.


Back on Interstate 90, I was feeling a little better, but I wasn't out of the woods just yet. I made my way into Wyoming, and down through the Bighorns, where I made the quick assessment that the weather was totally different than it was on the way out, four days earlier. It was snowy and slushy and extremely slick in places. I have driven in snow, again all of my driving life, I live in Indiana, so it wasn't new to me, but I wasn't close to home, I was high in elevation and I was once again feeling a little uneasy. I made it through, and after a few more hours on the road and with Chance's encouragement, I took a left on highway 14 at Moorcroft. I followed it north until I was prompted to turn onto highway 24, and on to Devil's Tower. This was a pretty cool sight. I stopped on the side of the road and put my phone on the hood of my truck, propped it up against one of my bags, and set the timer. There was no way I wasn't getting pictures in front of this amazing place. After a few takes, I hopped back in my truck and headed back toward the interstate. So now I have been to two National Parks on this trip, which are the first two ever. I was kind of getting the feel of why people love these places so much and I felt an immense sense of appreciation for those people who came before us, namely Theodore Roosevelt, U.S. Senator Peter Norbeck, South Dakota homesteader Ben Millard, Galen Clark and John Muir, for working tirelessly to protect the amazing places, all over our country, for all time.

I talked to Chance again and mentioned in passing that I had considered stopping at Mt. Rushmore as I made my way through western South Dakota. He strongly encouraged me to do it, because I was already out there, and I might as well see everything I have always wanted to see. I was stoked! I quickly changed my GPS, yet again, and I was headed to see one of my heroes, T.R. carved in the side of a mountain. I can't count how many times I stopped on the side of the road, as I was moving through the Black Hills, to take pictures and videos of deer grazing off in a random field. No matter how many deer I see, no matter where I am, I always proclaim "DEER"!! each and every time I see them, whether I have anyone to hear me or not. I do the same for turkeys, it's like an uncontrollable reflex. I love these animals and I love watching them so much, I just don't think it will ever get old.

I finally made it to Keystone, South Dakota, and due to the time of year it was, it was like a ghost town, and I was perfectly fine with that.  I headed up the mountain and finally got eyes on the incredible sight, of four men on a mountainside. It was surreal. Once inside the actual park, and after asking a super nice fella, who was mature in age and sweet as can be, to take my picture, I walked up to the viewing deck. There were maybe fifteen people there, and all but one was with a group of a few other people. I was standing next to the lady, who was probably in her late twenties, maybe, and once again asked for a photo of me standing in front of Mt. Rushmore, only closer this time. She obliged, and then told me that she was out that way with a friend, who attending a conference, so she was on her own seeing some things in the meantime. I, of course, told her about deer camp. I think I would have told every person there, if they would have listened, because I was still on such a high, it was hard to stay quiet, and no, it didn't matter if I knew the person or not. As I got into what deer camp was, and how it came about, her reaction was genuinely one of happiness. She told me that she was from Nebraska, and that she grew up around her dad hunting, and while she wasn't much of a hunter herself, she was blown away about what I was telling her. She actually welled up with tears when I told her about all of the women who were there, all of the stories that were told and just the overall feeling of pure joy that we each took with us, when we left those mountains. So, I guess I was really enthusiastic in my story telling, to make a complete stranger cry, while standing in front of Mt. Rushmore, on a Monday morning in September.

After standing a staring at the incredible carving for a few more minutes, I headed for the truck. To my surprise, as I approached the gift shop, there were people taking pictures of an empty park bench. When I looked closer, I saw 5 small mule deer standing behind the bench, eating grass and scared of no one. Damn right I asked a stranger to take my picture again! The people I asked, just happened to be from my home state of Indiana, so that was a nice surprise also. Back in the truck, and back on the road, with a feeling of appreciation, happiness, inspiration, love and yes, a fair amount of exhaustion. But I needed to keep moving.

The rest of the trip had little excitement, I spent the day driving through South Dakota, which I still believed to be a beautiful drive. And one thing I noticed, and this is a major thumbs up to the state of South Dakota and their highway department, every deer that I saw dead in the road on my way to Montana, was gone. Picked up, cleaned up, and out of sight. I really thought I would make my way out of the state before having to stop for my last hotel stay, but it didn't happen. I ended up stopping for the last sleep break, in Sioux Falls.

Up again on Tuesday morning, this time at 4 am, I was back on the road, and now, very eager to get home. Tuesday was all about keeping the hammer down, stopping for gas and drive-thru food, and nothing else. I made my way down to just north of Omaha Nebraska, and onto Interstate 80 East, through Iowa and then Illinois, to get my happy ass home, hopefully before dark. The last stop of my trip was forty minutes from my house, to see my dad. I hadn't told either of my parents that I was going to Montana. I didn't want them to worry, and I didn't want them to talk me out of it. I was so excited to tell my dad all about my trip, but it was going to be an abbreviated version for now, because I was one tired pup, so very close to my house, and I just wanted to get home.

I headed south to Danville, from Crawfordsville, and made my way down my driveway to find my dog looking through the living room window, wagging her tail. Home, safe and sound. Chance pulled in the driveway a few minutes later, and while he probably won't ever admit that he missed me, or that he was relieved I was home, it seemed to show in his face. Unpacking of the truck was swift, and I laughed the whole time, because there was mud on every single thing, I took out of it. More than that, the outside of my truck was covered in a serious amount of Montana mud, from that scary ass drive down East Arrow Creek Road, out in the middle of absolutely nowhere. I haven't washed my truck yet, and most of the mud is gone from the rain we've had, but every time I open my doors, I catch a bit of mud under my fingernails, and I just can't help but smile and cuss that Montana county road a little.

This trip, this experience, it was all more than I could have ever hoped for, and I do mean EVER. The women, the stories, the sights, the friendships, they will stay with me until the end of time. And while there will be more deer camps, and I will try to go, if I can save enough pennies, there will never be anything as special, as the first one. For that, I am forever grateful, and my heart will be forever full.