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The story of my cross country road trip with my little brother, Ethan.

I.

"I hope something goes wrong!" He said.

Set up camp at badlands. Go for hike. Tut tut! back to camp we go. not there for 5 minutes when a MASSIVE storm hits. Like, seriously scary! We sit in car for ~2 minutes before our (properly secured, and FULL OF OUR STUFF!!) tents both start flying away!! We run out. I grab Ethan's. It pulls me to ground! I am all cut up. Tell Ethan to sit his ass in it while I deal with my tent. Pull my entire tent (full of stuff, seriously) into his tent. We pack my tent up in there. All is soaking wet. it is freezing. Get things in some sort of order and pack all of our soaking wet stuff and our soaking wet bodies back into the car. Ethan uproariously laughing the whole time. "I didn't mean for something to go wrong on the FIRST DAY!"

I'm writing to you happily from Wall, SD Best Western. There's a hot tub and continental breakfast!

All E wanted to do was see the stupid Mount Rushmore.

Damn thing was too cloudy to see. I felt bad but seriously fuck that place 10 bucks to park my fucking car and then look up and it's too fucking cloudy to see what the actual shit? And my national parks pass doesn't work here? Oh my car can enter all year for 10 dollars awesome I WONT BE BACK FOR THE NEXT DECADE.

Hiking the beartooths for a couple days. Damn, Montana you the promised land.