You know you're camping when...
this is all you have in the larder
(eagle-eyed readers will spot the beets)
And yes, they're on the raw menu for snacktime in the truck today. Beets: people either love 'em or hate 'em.
This is the type of cafe we dream about, says Art.
Hooray, it's open at 9 am Sunday morning. It's quiet and at any moment I expect Rod Serling to step out with a ciggie dangling from his fingers: this is no ordinary cafe. Cue the music.
There's a smattering of locals joining us. How could a town of 99 people support this place? Our waitress tells us it's been here for 60 years. Her mother's cooking in back.
The Most Likely Cafe has provocative arrangements of things scattered about.
But the proof's in the eggs over easy, bacon/ham, hashbrowns and burnt rye for me...
Whatta meal! Next door is a saloon and yes I believe it's operational.
This fake door is adjacent to the saloon entrance.
Happily full, we hit the road to Oregon.