We headed out last Thursday around 9:30am which was only an hour and a half later than we had planned (pretty good for us!). We had planned out the first day to be our longest day of driving, though all in all it wasn't too bad. We drove continuously for the most part, until around dinner time. The pickings were rather slim in South Dakota but we did manage to find a charming little restaurant called Pizza Ranch.
We sampled much of their food by means of an all-you-can-eat buffet and it was rather good and quite varied. There was, however, one pizza that threw me for a loop. It had little green flecks of mysterious danger which I had originally assumed were jalapeños. Later, after having placed the flavor somewhere between fish-market and hot dog, it finally occurred to me that it was pickle. My initial reaction of horrified optimism escalated quickly to horrified nausea and I pushed back the lump in my throat in time with the food on my plate. Interesting to note, Jenn has been known to call me her "pickle pie" on occasion. In light of my recent experience I am deeply offended.
Things went rather smoothly afterwards as we continued on towards our destination for the night: Fargo. However, my Garmin navigation device did manage to provide us with a little excitement. After having been second-guessed all day by Jenn's antiquated road atlas (2006 called...), it finally got fed up and retreated to its happy place somewhere on the other side of the screen. No manner of power button pushing (I tried at least 240 times) nor gentle cooing could bring it back to life and we were forced to navigate briefly by colorfully-detailed dead tree matter before I realized that my cell phone also has GPS; as such, we were able to navigate that last 120 miles of straight-line highway without incident. A quick look at the user-guide online at the hotel suggested pressing the 'reset' button which did the trick.
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