250 Reasons to Love Our City

When this year began, the Woodman's were still without a house and wandering the countryside. Then, as reality sunk in, it was time to head back to St. Louis, find a home, and start some new adventures. After a few months back in the Gateway city, we already started getting that itch. We needed a new goal. A new challenge. Since putting everything we owned back into storage and hitting the road wasn't possible, it had to be something close by. What, though? Short weekend trips or overnight camping trips were fun, but we needed something grander. Something bigger.

Most Interesting Cake: Venice Cafe

Then, one day in early spring, we read about the St. Louis 250^th birthday celebration. Originally founded in 1764, this was our great city's sestercentennial. And since every birthday needs a cake, the STL250 group decided it would place cake sculptures throughout the city to honor this event. One for every year of it's existence. Two hundred and fifty 4 foot high “cakes”, each made of fiberglass, and each one individually decorated by a different artist, were spread throughout the region. A website was set up with a map to all of them, so people like us, “cake hunters” as we came to be known, could find them . And just like that, we had our next adventure.

Best Cake Photo-Op: Kiener Plaza

So, just where were these cakes? Well, to put it simply, they put them at places that held some sort of significance to our town. Historical places. Popular hangouts. Important buildings. They were everywhere. North County. Mid town. Downtown. Jefferson County. Illinois. All over. Some locations were obvious choices. Busch Stadium. The Arch. The Zoo. Real St. Louis landmarks. Others held historical meaning. Old churches. Schools. Sites where important events occurred.  Some places were local favorites that were actually chosen in a public vote. Restaurants. Parks. Museums. A wide variety of locations were selected. A perfect sampling of what makes our city great.

Coolest Place The Kids Want To Revisit: Bellefontaine Cemetery

We started our undertaking in early May quite simply. Ted Drewe's was our very first cake. I'm pretty sure we were going there anyways, so it was an obvious choice. (In fact, I think we visited that cake 3 or 4 times this year). After that, we would hit areas that has a large concentration of cakes.
Forest Park. University City Loop. Grand Center. We were on our way. The task seemed daunting. The list was huge. We were up to it.

Hardest Cake to Find: Mary Meachum Freedom Crossing

At first the whole family would be involved in a day of hunting. We'd pick an area, make out a list and pile into the van. The hunt often involved lots of U-turns, making up parking spots, and the kids running in and out of the van like a crazed Chinese fire drill. They would all pose on the cake. They would always argue over who got to be on the top. We'd take a picture, and move on. After the first month, we had a fair number. Fifty, or so. At that pace it would take just the remainder of the summer to knock this out.

Most Interesting Place I Didn't Know Existed: Black Madonna Shrine and Grottos

Eventually, the newness wore off, and the eagerness to go "hunting" wore thin.
Dragging all 3 kids to every cake suddenly seemed more like a chore than a fun, family adventure. We decided to adjust our strategy. Now, only one (maybe two kids) would go at a time.This lessened the bickering and lead to more quality one-on-one time as a result. The outings continued on.

That Was Too Damn Far for a Cake: Clinton County Courthouse (Carlyle, IL)

Ultimately, the trips got longer. Some cakes were far away. (Too far away if you ask me). Instead of a short drive to hit a bunch of cakes, it turned into a long drive for just a few cakes. We remained undeterred. Our quest moved on. Somewhere along the way, the idea of bribing them with sweets came into play. 
"Who wants to go cake hunting today?"....
"Can we get a treat?"
 Luckily some cakes were at places that offered such a tasty reward. Serendipity for ice cream. Sweetology for cupcakes. Crown Candy. It kept  them motivated.

WTF? Artwork Award: Six Flags (zoo animals?)

As we started posting pictures of our cakes, others became interested in our adventure. Soon, other families wanted to join us on some cake hunting expeditions. The Murphy's. The De La Cruz family. The Schoenborn's. The Rummel-Winfreys. All made appearances in cake pics. Other family members would also tag along occasionally. Big sister Haley, their cousin Joaquin, and even a visiting Aunt Kelly made it into a cake photo-op.

Summer turned to fall, and fall into winter, and the list grew smaller and smaller. Then with a week to go before Christmas, we headed out for our final cake, #253 (Don't get me started on why there are more than 250 cakes... That's a whole other rant for another time. I mean come on, make it a hard cut-off at 250. Geez. And I hear there's even another one being released at midnight on New Year's Eve... C'mon now! 250 means 250!)

Our task was complete. Our adventure finished. In seven months, we had seen more of St. Louis than I ever had in my 40 years of living here. We had traveled to all corners of our great city. Found every cake. And, hopefully, had a little bit of fun along the way.

Now that it's done...what next???

What We Learned

Our travels are over. The adventure has ended. For now. We have returned home. Well, to be accurate, we've returned to the city where our stuff is. Let's call it home, for short. For many reasons; the main one being that we are not independently wealthy, our current wandering lifestyle has come to a close. For now. Not forever. Just for now. I say that with confidence, because we learned some things on this trip. We learned some stuff about ourselves. About our family.


We learned that we were great at traveling. Of course we were, that was the fun part, right? Going to new places. Exploring cool stuff. Awesome sights. Amazing scenic views. That stuff was easy. Fun. Except, that stuff was only like 10% of traveling. Tops. There's still the other 90% worth of stuff you have to do. Like get to the amazing views. They're not all right next to each other. The Midwest and mountain states are vast. And by vast, I mean... well, vast. Lots of vast car time. Mix in some random potty breaks. More vastness. Never-ending hungry children. More vastness. And then, some cool stuff to look at. At the end of the vast day, we still needed a place to sleep. Preferably a place with free breakfast. And a pool. And hot tub. That's mostly what traveling was. It was figuring out how to move the whole family around. It was finding stuff to see, and then finding a place to stay. It was logistics. And that stuff, the logistics, that's what we were good at. Surprisingly good in some instances.


We moved around well. When you consider we essentially had a mini version of our lives with us, that was no small feat. All told, we packed in and out of 25 different places. People's houses. Guest houses. Hotel rooms. Cabins. We traveled pretty light. Or so we thought. We were only allowed one suitcase of clothes each. Once you added in the kitchen bin, the school bin, the toy bin, and the cooler, we still managed to fill hotel luggage carts to the top. Mini versions of your life is still a lot. Even so, we ran a tight ship. With all that moving around, in and out, the unpacking and repacking, we didn't leave one thing behind. Nothing. We didn't lose anything. Nothing important, anyways. Kids losing their crappy, little toys doesn't count. That's actually a blessing. Random socks don't count either. They magically disappear at home. No, I'm talking about the stuff you always leave behind. Chargers. Favorite stuffies. Jewelry. Valuable things. We didn't leave a one behind. We were a well run machine. Organized. Streamlined. Even being faced with a crippling foot injury didn't slow us down. The caravan moved well.

We were resourceful. We perfected the skill of hotel room cooking. Most nights on the road we stayed in and cooked. Armed with our induction burner, and cast iron skillet, we were set. Even though it was way more work, it was healthier and obviously cheaper. There are a fair number of skills we learned to cooking in a hotel room. Always do it in the bathroom. With the fan on. You don't want to be the one that sets off the smoke detectors just cause you wanted some quesadillas. Use the toilet as a garbage disposal. It works great. Also, anything goes for a dining table. Same holds true for plates. We were creative. Practical. Almost masters by the end of the trip.

Surprisingly, we learned we were good at being in the car. For the most part. We drove over 7,500 miles in all. We visited 14 states. Seven National Parks and Monuments. We probably spent about 200 hours together, jammed into our Honda Odyssey. And it wasn't horrible. It didn't completely suck. That in itself is a victory, right? The driving was not the worst part of traveling. It could have easily been. Whiny kids. Carsickness. Getting lost,and driving aimlessly. It could have been a nightmare. But it wasn't. We managed to keep the kids pretty well entertained. Lots of audiobooks. Car games. We listened to the kids album Philadelphia Chickens over 400 times. Let me tell you, it takes a pretty special album to still be enjoyed after 400 times. This, however, was not that album. Sometimes we just sat and stared out the windows. We talked about what we just saw. What we were going to see. We sang. We slept. Sure, some times there was fighting, but, for the most part, the car time was great. There weren't even that many cases of “are we there yet?” Some. Just not a lot. We got good at finding ways for the kids to blow off some pent up car energy. Indoor swimming pools. Playgrounds when it was warm. Play-lands when it got cold. We even ran laps inside a rest area lobby for 20 minutes one frigid day. Blowing off steam was crucial to a happy van full of kids. We learned how to be good at that. Early on, we also figured out what everyone's car meltdown threshold was. It was usually somewhere around six hours. After six hours, all hell typically broke loose. So, our answer, was to keep our driving times shorter than that each day. And that worked, too. Nadia only felt really carsick once the whole trip. And that was coming down Pike's Peak. By the end of the trip, she wasn't even mentioning feeling bad anymore, and she even colored for a few hours. Not normal carsick behavior.


We were great travelers. The gypsy life was indeed for us. We would find fun stuff to do if we wanted. Or we would do nothing at all. We would hang out with friends, or set off to explore our surroundings. It was perfect. Except when it wasn't.


Not everything we learned about our family was positive. The reality was, that just because we were off having great adventures, didn't mean that our regular problems magically went away. We were still the same family, with the same issues. Sibling rivalry still existed. Jealousy and pettiness was still there. Being at a National Park, didn't stop people from getting their feelings hurt. Being on a mountain top didn't exempt arguments from happening. Meltdowns happened in hotel rooms just like they did at home. Scenic overlooks didn't prevent us from yelling at the kids for getting their feelings hurt, getting into arguments, and having meltdowns. No, the same family dynamics and frictions still existed on the road. The same drama still flared up. Just with better backdrops.


In fact, as the trip wore on, some of the drama intensified. Maybe it was all the time we were spending together in close quarters. Or maybe it was something else. The girls started feeling more anxious at times. Restless at others. 'I just need to squeeze something!' they would say. Also, their emotions were running even more hot and cold than their standard level of bat shit crazy. They couldn't articulate it, but they were trying to tell us something. We figured it out. The girls were feeling insecure. They need to feel safe. They needed a place to call home. As much fun as they were having, deep down, they needed a home. When we set out on this trip, it was never meant to be forever. Maybe in some fantasy we had, we thought we could live like this always. Some families do. Maybe we dreamed a little that our kids would grow into these super cool world travelers who never needed a real home. We'd have some family motto, like “As long as we're together.” We'd sell all of our stuff from our storage locker and hit the road indefinitely. We knew there was no way this was going to happen. Not our family. Not our kids. Our kids are adventurous. Sure. You could even say they are somewhat of free spirits. But, they also need to be grounded. Sometimes I forget that. I forget how young they are. I forget how fragile they can be. They are sweet, yet very emotional kids. I'm glad they are. But, with that, also comes the need for a sense of belonging. A sense of space. A home. I get that. It's normal. Natural. They can't feel safe to explore the world, without having stability and security at home.

So, after 138 days, our houseless-ness is over. We move into a short-term rental house soon, and once again will have a place to call our home. Does that mean our wandering days are over? No way. The traveling part is easy for us, remember? We're already discussing our plans for this summer. There's a lot more of this country still to see. It probably won't be a 4 ½ month adventure this time, but it also won't be just a week, either.


That's not how we wander.

Further On Up the Road

Goofy roadside attractions are one of the things that makes our country great. They are kitschy. Cheesy. Sometimes disappointing. Other times, surprising. Always a lot of fun. You should be required to stop at at least one, on every road trip.

The aptly-named 'Skeleton Walking Dinosaur'

South Dakota, for some bizarre reason, seems to be flooded with them. They are everywhere. Or maybe it just seems like they're everywhere, because South Dakota is so vast and wide open, and there's really nothing else to do. Anywhere. Just roadside attraction after roadside attraction. And they all seemed to be old. Most of them had been around 50 or more years. Some looked like they hadn't been updated once. Others barely looked open. Every few exits another one popped up. Prairie Dog Town. Reptile Garden. Flinstone's Bedrock City. Perhaps they all just existed in an attempt to cash in on the 3 million visitors who roll into Rushmore every year. There were Dances With Wolves Movie Props. The 1880 Town. (not to be confused with the entirely different) 1880 Cowboy Town. They were everywhere.

It's easy to figure out which ones you want to stop and visit, because they all share one common approach. Massive billboard campaigns. Their signs dot the landscape as if they were a native plant, or state tree, common to the area. They bludgeon you over the head with their repetitiveness. By the time you reach their appropriate exits, you feel like you HAVE to stop. So, we did just that.

First up was the impressive, and well advertised Wall Drug Store, in Wall, South Dakota. What started as a small drug store over 80 years ago, has transformed into a giant 76,000 square foot American experience. The tiny town of Wall seems to exist just for this store, but unlike the twine ball, this attraction didn't disappoint. What appeared to be one big city block filled with stores, is really just one huge connected store. Wall Drug had just about every souvenir you could ever imagine, and then some.

Annie Get Your Gun

Besides a bunch of souvenir junk, there were also plenty of  funny photo ops in the place. A giant jackelope. A T-Rex. Several different wood carvings of famous Old West characters. It gave us a chance to explain to the girls about famous outlaws, and gunfighters of the Old West. Billy the Kid. Wild Bill Hickock. Annie Oakley. They wondered why all of them looked so angry.
 Later they came running across the store to inform us they had finally found "A pretty lady!"
"Come see it!" they pleaded.


I'm pretty sure she was a prostitute.

Or possibly just a tavern floozy.

Most likely a prostitute, though.

Pretty, indeed girls.

So far so good on the quality of the roadside stops. Next up, was the one and only Corn Palace, located in Mitchell, SD. Mitchell is a prairie town that is corn crazy and proud of it. It's high school sports teams are the Kernels, and its local radio station's call letters are KORN.  Touted as the "agricultural showplace of the world," the Corn Palace is just that. A palace made of corn. Each year, the towns people come together and re-decorate the exterior of the building with new pictures and artwork, all made completely from corn.



Originally constructed in the late 1800's, the building is now more than just a novelty in the center of the town. It is the focal point of the town itself. Inside the palace is a full-sized gymnasium where the locals gather to cheer on their favorite teams. We just so happened to stop by during a basketball tournament, and the place was packed. It just seemed natural to have corn artwork on the walls, and not goofy or cheesy at all.


The rest of the roadside stops now seemed even less interesting after these two. I mean, the Pioneer Auto Museum might be great and all (did the pioneers even drive cars?), but it was no palace made of corn that could host a basketball tournament. You see Wall Drug and The Corn Palace were more than just goofy roadside stops. Maybe originally they were. But over the years, they changed. They grew. They expanded. They adapted. They became super-awesome goofy roadside stops.

And we loved them for that.

The Junior Rangers

Before this trip even got started, we already had unrealistic dreams about it being the ultimate learning experience for the kids. We were going to drag them all over the country, and open their eyes to all these great places. What better way to learn about the world, than to see it for yourself, right? It would be easy. The knowledge would just flow into their little minds.

"The Grand Canyon, girls. It's....ummmm....Grand?"

Only, it's not always that easy. I mean, most of these places we went were new to us too. How could we teach them anything, if we were clueless ourselves? On top of that, the National Parks we went to were massive. Overwhelming, at times. It's nearly impossible to take it all in, let alone making sure the girls were taking something away from it all. It seemed a daunting task.

 



Lucky for us, the National Park System had just the thing: the Junior Ranger Program. At over 200 different places throughout the country, kids are given the opportunity to explore and learn about their national parks, and discover how they can help protect them today and into the future.

Swearing. The good kind.

It's a pretty cool program. At each park, they have their own booklet, with tasks assigned by age level. So, the girls went right to work. They interviewed Rangers, They searched through exhibits for answers to questions. They hiked around, looking for other clues. They attended Ranger talks. Completed crossword puzzles. Drew pictures of their experiences. Once they finished everything, they were sworn in as Junior Rangers and received a special certificate and official Junior Ranger badge.

And here's the really crazy thing about the program. It worked. Sure, the girls didn't dive in head first into a bucket full of knowledge, lapping it up like crazy. No. But, they did each have a spark ignited in them at some point. They were fascinated how the Pueblo Indians lived. After completing the Montezuma program, they went home and built their own miniature Native American village. Following Mount Rushmore, all three girls suddenly have shown a ton of interest in learning about all 43 presidents. Science. Geology. History. Spelling. Conservation. Botany. All covered. Thanks National Park System for making us seem like great teachers. 

Four Big Guys and One Bad Place

The Avenue of Flags

 Following our short stay in Colorado, it was off to the Black Hills of South Dakota for our next adventure. After driving across W(ind)yoming for the second time, we headed for the town of Keystone, at the base of Mount Rushmore. After a fun-filled night in the hotel pool, we woke up early and headed off to the one National Monument that is truly America personified.

It was big. A bold work of art. Impressive in scope, with likenesses that were uncanny for their size. It represents everything that makes our country great. The presidents; Washington, Jefferson, Roosevelt and Lincoln, represent the first 130 years of American history. These presidents were selected because of their role in preserving the Republic and expanding its territory.




From 1927 to 1941, Danish-American sculptor Gutzon Borglum and 400 workers carved the colossal 60 foot high carvings in the granite rock of the Black Hills. Using scale models that constantly needed to be changed, Borglum orchestrated a crew of men to create his vision. Problems arose along the way. Jefferson was originally to be to the left of Washington. But, when there wasn't enough good rock on that side, he moved him to the right. Roosevelt's likeness was forced back further than the rest, due to inconsistent rock surface. The sculptures were supposed to continue on down to their waists, but funding ran out, leaving just their heads.

Couldn't see if it was made by 'Acme'

Hanging from harnesses off the mountain, the workers jack hammered, carved, and smoothed the faces of our leaders. 
The girls were fascinated to learn how they used dynamite to carve 90% of the memorial. There was even a detonating plunger hooked up to a TV monitor, where they got to simulate blowing up parts of the mountain. "Just like the coyote uses on the roadrunner, right Poppa?"

Sometimes they make me so proud.

After a history-filled afternoon, we took a scenic drive through nearby Badlands National Park. "Why is it called the Badlands?" the kids all asked. The answer was simple. Years ago, frustrated French fur traders labeled the area "bad lands to traverse," and the term "badlands" came to describe any area with similarly topography. Nowadays, there is a beautiful scenic road that takes you through the entire park, but we could imagine what they must have experienced.

The land is barren. Virtually no vegetation exists anywhere. Heavy water erosion and frost have carved the land into pinnacles and other fantastic geological formations. The rocks are constantly changing, eroding at a rate of about an inch a year. These sharp and rugged rocks seemed extraterrestrial at times. Like we were driving along the surface of the moon. It was awesome.



We had to hurry, as the short amount of winter daylight was quickly fading. Rain showers were dotting the skies as well. This combination lead to some breathtaking sunset panoramas, and even a rainbow on the horizon. Not too bad for the Badlands.

Awesomeness.

New Year, Old Friends

"Pink Pony" (as signed by Nina & Elise) with Seb as the pony.

The Christmas season had ended, and it was time to start thinking about our journey eastward. Our time with family was the perfect way to spend the holidays. The girls were sad to say goodbye to their cousins, as this was, by far, the most time they have ever spent with them in their lives. Everyone got to know each other a whole lot better on the trip. I think we all feel much closer to our Idahoan family. So, we packed up, and headed east.

Bye Bye Boise family

Originally, our plan was to swing through Yellowstone National Park in Wyoming on the route. Yeah, ummmm.... have I mentioned recently that we aren't mountain folk? The only way to access most of Yellowstone in January is with a snowmobile, or a giant Sno-Cat. Our Honda Odyssey is neither. We weren't really aware of how snowy and cold it is there. It is. So, the beauty and splendor of one of our country's greatest parks would have to wait for another trip. We'll catch you next time Old Faithful.

Alpine Tramps

So, what now? Where to spend New Year's? We wanted to head east, so Colorado made the most sense. We called up our good friends the Rummel-Winfreys, and headed to the mountains near Boulder. Missy is another one of Jenny's longtime and dear friends. We've traveled up to their place in Colorado several times over the years. It would be a perfect place to celebrate the New Year.

Fozzie and friends.

The girls got to play with their friend, Luka, while Clark and Jenny got to hang out with some of their favorite people. We all stayed up till midnight, banged pots and pans, and screamed down the mountain.

New Year's Day we spent in Nederland, one of our favorite little mountain towns in Colorado. We stuffed our bellies full at the Indian buffet, then took a ride on the super cool, hand-carved carousel.

It was a great way to ring in 2014.

'Ned' as it's called by locals.

Happy New Year!

The Other Side of the Mountain

We're not mountain folk. That has been shown to be abundantly clear. It's not our fault. We're from the Midwest. There are no mountains in Missouri. Not real ones, anyways. Those things down south are not real mountains. Real mountains have snow and ice. They have switchback roads. Temperatures change quickly. It's not our fault that we don't understand things like elevation change. No one in St. Louis knows how high up they live. We don't understand things like weather inversions. We have no concept of how grade % works. We've learned the hard way that driving through the mountains takes some extra preparation. Extra planning. And doing it, at night, in the winter, well that's just stupid.

Even though some of our encounters with the mountains had humbled us, we weren't going to let them beat us. The mountains are also a place of fun and adventure in the snowy winter months.

We were going to take full advantage of it.

800 feet of fun

First up, snow tubing at the nearby Bogus Basin Mountain Recreation Area. The five of us, plus the two oldest Driver kids headed out for a fun filled Christmas Eve morning on the mountain. The tube run was 800 feet long, and fast. Really fast. Too fast, apparently for the people working there. After the first few runs, they shut the hill down for awhile, and churned up the snow with a giant Sno-Cat in an attempt to decrease speeds. It was still pretty fast. The kids raced down in their covered inner tubes. They went down holding hands. On their stomachs. On their backs. A tow rope pulled us back up to the top, making the whole experience easy and fun. Everyone had a blast.
Well, almost everyone. Nadia refused to go down the hill. “I don't like fast things” she proclaimed. “But, we already bought you a ticket, dear” we pleaded with her. We begged. We coaxed. She remained undeterred. Off to the warming tent for some hot cocoa instead. Jenny and Clark took turns waiting with her, and occasionally drug her around in her tube.

She couldn't hold back her inner big girl.

Eventually our session time was coming to a close. Time for one last attempt at getting Nadia down the hill. One last ditch guilt trip. “Fine.” she utters reluctantly, yet with some certainty. Before she could change her mind, she's off, down the hill, holding her Poppa's hands tightly. She was right. She didn't like it, But, she went. So the day was a success.

The Tubers

Next up, was a trip to the Gold Fork Hot Springs up in the mountains north of Boise. The weather was icy and frigid, but the mineral water was toasty and perfect. All the kids really loved the sand covered bottom of one of the pools. The adults obviously loved the healing waters too. You couldn't get out of the water for more than a minute before parts of you started freezing over. Ice chunks in your hair. Your suit turned into a stiff board. So, since there was no reason to get out, we didn't.

Five hours later, we were all in heaven.

"I want to live here" stated Nadia.

"So do we, dear."
"So do we."

Our final weekend in Idaho was spent up in the mountain town of McCall. A travel destination, McCall is jam packed with outdoor winter sports activities. The Driver family all knows how to ski, so we opened it up to our family if anyone was interested in learning. Nina was the only taker. She has always been an adventurous one, so it shouldn't have been a surprise. So, Clark, Nina and some of the Drivers headed off to Brundage Mountain Resort for some downhill fun.

A natural.

We got there bright and early so Nina could get a private one hour lesson, and hopefully get her skiing. Her instructor was super nice, and apparently Nina is somewhat of a natural. She mastered the main hill on 'Easy Street' pretty quickly, and wanted to try her luck on a big 'Green' hill. Clark took the big lift high up the mountain with her, and attempted what they called a beginner hill. It was steep. Too steep for a novice like myself and a first timer like Nina. So, we walked. Down the mountain. There was no other way down. It sucked.

 Back to the easy hill for us, which was just fine. Nina worked on her speed. She prefers going fast, not back and forth. She also mastered one called 'The Roller Coaster' which involved some fast hills, embankments, and several places to wipe out. Clark did. A lot. Nina did not. In just one day on skis, she was already better than her old man. Not surprising.

The rest of the gang, (Jenny, Norah, Nadia, the rest of the Drivers, and Boots the dog) tromped around McCall on snowshoes looking for places to go sledding. Nadia, of course, would not be excited about this, so she got the royal princess treatment. Sitting in her sled, she was drug around on the snow all day. The group trudged along, stopping occasionally and checking out sled hills. The snow was thick. There were no good runs established anywhere.

Norah decided to switch to cross-country skis, and loved it. She spent the day swishing along snow covered roads. After many failed attempts at sledding, they headed back to the car, to call it quits. Right down the road, they saw a group of sledders. A perfect spot. Fast. Long. And ending on a frozen lake. Great sledding soon followed. Even Nadia got in on the fun, laughing and giggling the whole way down. They even hooked their sleds up to Boots, and he pulled them down the hill.

 While we may never be mountain folks, at least we can play like them.

Boots earning his keep