This Is Not Camping

Today we arrived in Craig, IA, a miniscule town that seemingly consists of one business, Flywheel Supply, one church, one gas station and not a whole lot more. 

Flywheel Supply is a small manufacturing company that makes parts for Hit & Miss engines.

But the property that sits behind it, where we're actually parked, is really unique.

There's a small campground with a handful of pull-through sites surrounded by miniature train tracks and a functional miniature train. There's also a museum of sorts, with cars, trucks, engines, and other memorabilia. There's an arcade and several other cute little buildings made to look like a tiny town.

I worked today, so I didn't get to take a property tour with the owner.

Jason did.

But he forgot his phone.

So sorry, folks. Limited pictures. For more about the property, check out GospelandGasEngines.com.

This was another stop that seemed interesting along our path home, as we gradually begin heading southeast to meet up with I-70. Getting here took us well off the main interstate and onto county roads through the middle of farm country Iowa.

It's quite peaceful, and there's a soft, drizzly rain happening outside.

We haven't seen rain since... Bismarck??

We were starting to think rain didn't happen anymore.

I have every window and door open because, ah, humidity... how I have missed you.

In other news, tonight was Spaghetti Night, and I managed to make pasta with limited water and no strainer.

We may have drilled holes into a decorative plastic bowl to create a makeshift colander.

Sorry, Jen.

Field engineering at its finest.

Today is officially Day 27 on the road.

And I had this thought again last night that I remember having earlier in the trip.

THIS IS NOT CAMPING.

This is LIVING IN A CAMPER.

And they're not even remotely the same thing.

Camping is what we do on long weekends with friends and fires—don't even get me started—and laughs.

Camping has an end date after a couple of nights.

This doesn't.

We're working. We're grocery shopping. We're doing laundry. We're cooking dinner. We're fixing things. We're figuring out whether we can get a 45-foot camper into small places.

We're living our normal life.

It's just happening in a camper.

And I think that was an assumption I had before this trip began.

That we'd be camping.

We're not.

But.

We've seen eleven states, seventeen campgrounds and Harvest Hosts, a ridiculous number of gas stations, and some of the wildest landscapes I could imagine.

We've driven through mountains and plains and farmland. We've seen bison and hot springs and hoodoos and wineries and breweries and tiny towns and giant monuments.

We've worked from campgrounds, truck stops, parking lots, and the back of the camper.

We've broken things.

We've fixed things.

We've learned things.

We've gotten really, really good at setting up and tearing down this ridiculous rig.

But you know what we haven't seen?

Stink bugs.

I'll leave you with that.