No excuses -- Or -- There's no backing out now.

As I begin this entry, we're passing a sign that says Deer Run 9 miles, mile marker 177 in Montana on I-90. That puts us two states out of Washington, Ripley has already rolled in cow manure (and is riding in the cab with us). No excuses refers to the fact that Angie and Spenser have done this all willingly, and contrary to my prediction. They have made no excuses. Can't say that means without complaint, but they never made an excuse so win that bet.

The first leg of the trip had the big truck capped at 58mph. We thought it was going to be a very long trip. We changed out the CD at the rest area, and the next thing you know it's running 70... Strange things happen.

So, we have mobile internet access, so you will see posts from all sorts of exotic locations, like Butte, Bozeman, and Billings (I have this fascination with B's). Mike is currently driving the big truck, Angie the small, and Spenser is already sick of travel. Ripley, well, he just stinks. Bath tonight!