Naturally, I lied and said I was already awake and packing. My sleeping bag was oh so warm and unusually inviting. It always feels the most comfortable at the very moment that you have to get out of it. But I had no idea how much I really wanted to keep sleeping. I wasn't expecting what came next-- Prepare yourself for a very dramatic telling of a not so dramatic story. I have to work with what I got, guys.
Because of the abrupt wake up call, I was already crabbier than usual. Then I tripped as I left the tent. Always a good sign. For the past three days, I was carrying my day bag around everywhere we went. My wallet wasn't in that bag, so I assumed that it was in one of my other ones, and I hadn't spent any money since the sleeping bag purchase at the Walmart in Rapid City, South Dakota. After I packed my sleeping bag and clothes, I went to look for my wallet in my bookbag. Not there. Oh man... I emptied my already packed bag onto a table and searched through everything. Not there. Oh boy... I climbed through the van on my hands and knees, looking in every crack and cranny with my headlamp. Not there. Ooh my... I called my mom. "Uhh... Hey mom." She asked if she could call me back because she was on the phone. "No. It's pretty important." She, of course, like the great mom she is, hung up her other phone call and, in a very concerned and motherly tone, asked me what was wrong. "I'm pretty sure my wallet is gone. Could you check to see if any purchases have been made with your credit card?" Instead of getting mad, she immediately (without lecture) checked and informed me that the last purchase was made at Walmart in Rapid City. Well at least that means it probably isn't stolen. Unless someone just took the cash out and left my poor wallet to die alone in the wilderness. My mom wished me luck and said to call her if I needed anything else. Of course, my biggest concern was that I need my ID to get on a plane back to Greenville. It was around this time when all hope was lost that I became even more pissy than I was when I woke up. I'd like to apologize to anyone who witnessed it. Everyone was very helpful and concerned, and Melissa gave me the number for the Walmart in Rapid City. I called and asked the woman on the phone if they'd found any wallets recently. She said yes and connected me to a different department. I had high hopes once they put me on hold. Perhaps not all is lost! Maybe I won't have to be stranded in South Dakota for the rest of my life! Another woman picked up the phone and asked me my name. She then put me on hold as she looked for it. I waited. I paced. I got antsy. I paced more. I tried to whistle, but soon decided I wasn't chipper enough for that nonsense. I was standing in front of a jury at trial, awaiting my sentence-- if found guilty, I'd be sentenced to 20 years in the barren, underpopulated land of South Dakota. And, alas, she was utterly insensitive of my pain when she informed me that I was, in fact, guilty. My wallet was not there. I'd resigned myself to a life with no commodities. A life with no money. And a life with no love or family; South Dakota's eligible bachelor pool is the size of a teaspoon. I continued to help with the group packing, having no hope that my wallet would resurface. Then I decided that I had one last option. I walked to the edge of camp and stared at the dumpster for a moment. I figured I'd regret not looking everywhere. I lifted the two cover flaps of the 5 by 3 foot dumpster and leaped inside. Kelly stood by to cheer me on. I rummaged through the numerous walmart bags full of trash, and after a few minutes, I determined that the only thing in this dumpster was broken hearts and crushed dreams. But then! I saw a corner of my beloved treasure. It was hiding beneath something (I don't even know what because I was so excited), and it was like seeing rain after 1,000 years in the dessert. Now I know how the Egyptians felt when they found the promise land. I know how Nala feels when Simba finally came back after a life of living with Timone and Pumba for his whole adolescent lion life. All because I found the wallet that had been missing for 3 days. The end.
We spent the rest of the day in the car, walking along the edge of Devil's Tower, and touring a cole mine with the one and only Dave Olsen. The scene from Devil's Tower looking outward toward the open hills reminded me, for some reason, of a scene from Tess of the D'Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy-- a very beautiful, depressing, and altogether unenjoyable book. So of course, I loved it. Any of you who have read it may know why I think this view looks like it belongs in the book:
Finally, the everlasting day ended in a fireless campground on the side of a muddled and fairly disgusting stream. Regretfully, I don't have a picture of the forgettable campsite. Mainly because I would like to forget it as soon as possible. Tomorrow night will be spent in the comfort of an air conditioned, pillowed, fragrant, luxurious hotel. We will be the kings and queens of Riverton, Wyoming. It will be the last night we spend inside for the next two weeks.
Oh, and happy one week anniversary, everybody!
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