I walk into the Pease Creek campground, and I confess, my attitude isn't the greatest. I feel tired and dehydrated from the heat, I'm regretting my decision to go 3 miles off the route to find this place, and the dirt road caking my wheels in mud doesn't help. But the straw that sent the camel to surgery comes when I pick up the courtesy phone to get a site allotment. A young guy--I'd guess he's far away in a call office somewhere--quotes a price that's so off the charts, I mean, I've only paid more once at the Great Falls KOA, difference being that they had hot water, laundry facilities and free firewood.
Anyway, my first impulse is to just hang up the phone and go back to the dirt road where I can set up in a forested area, somewhere I won't be detected by park rangers. But then I start thinking that my conscience would nag at me all night, so I begrudgingly let the guy on the phone run my Amex card, then go to find my "modern campsite."
So as you might imagine, I'm grumbling and groaning like Bud with gastritis as I pitch the tent. Then, at some point I decide that brooding is stupid and I make a conscious effort to be optimistic. In fact, I tell Bud, 'Maybe something wonderfully unexpected will happen to make all the rest worth while.'
Well, I'd just returned from a cold shower when a guy named Gary approaches our area to say hi. He and his buddies have come from Nebraska for some Walai fishing and seem to be doing fairly well. Anyway, he says there's an extra pork chop in the fridge and offers to heat it up with some potatoes. How could I refuse when my only alternative was instant oatmeal. The food's fabulous; it really does hit the spot.
Nevertheless, if you're a traveller on foot or a cyclist doing the L&C trail, I'd steer clear of the Rec Areas in South Dakota. They're off the trail, and expensive (to put it mildly). You'd be better off pitching it in a field two nights and then using the money you'd have otherwise spent on " a modern campsite" for a nice motel room.
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