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Morning Light
 We wake-up to an intensely bright sun and a cool breeze entering our tents. Soon, we get down to the task of rolling-up sleeping bags, tents, and sorting any gear that was brought out the previous evening. Today's single goal is to make Interstate miles nonstop back to Kansas City and with this in mind, we are very business-like with these chores. Our rag-tag group is pooped from the week's adventures and we probably have spent all the vacation energy we could muster, except for the kids.
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Breaksfast of Travelers
We opt for fast food at the Hardees across the street from the campground, where we also gas-up. The spirit of adventure has somehow departed as we single-mindedly finish breakfast with the dread of having to sit in the car for 10 hours of monotonous driving.
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The Long Trail Home We weary cowpokes, hit the road and take a moment to look back to the west, where we imagine the high mountain peaks of the Bighorns still breaking above the high plains. Putting the pedal to the metal, our band soon leaves any vestiges of these memories back with the styrofoam fast-food debris that we discarded at the Hardees, along with some scraps of sausage biscuit. The sun climbed, the road got hotter, the engines whined, some of us nodded off to sleep, but finally everybody's stomachs got to the growling point where we had no choice but to seek refuge at a McDonalds for lunch. After lunch it was more of the same. The miles rolled by and not a single camera shutter clicked. The group arrived in Kansas City around late dinner time. This was the trails end. Probably our thoughts were occupied with having to do laundry and drying out tents and sleeping bags for the next few days. And of course, some of us needed a big rest before getting back to their jobs on Monday.
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Epilogue
Its now, Year 2000. We have not been together as a group for any big adventures like this. Cooky got it into his head to borrow all our pictures and chronicalize this trip before the memories fade. So that's how this webpage came to be. We have done a few weekend trips and Cooky promises to document these, later. Got to let the memories sort of ripen before they get put on paper, he says. These other weekend trips where closer to home. Like we took some handcrafted row boats down a lazy Missouri river and met folks that talk funny. Like at the boat ramp a big ol' boy said "You youngin's mind yor pants, hee me." Well, "Pants" is "Parents" in Missouri talk.
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