We got up Sunday morning and sat downstairs giggling about events of the previous night until we heard a weird squeaking sound coming from Cindi’s room. I went to look and she was halfway off the bed, trying to get our attention. She had almost no voice, and proceeded to throw up in a garbage can. She won at North Dakota.

We had breakfast and packed up the Dead Hooker for the return trip. We were all fairly hung over, so the drive back seemed even longer. And we had to stop and see the giant buffalo in Jamestown, of course.

We also saw the famous white buffalo, which apparently means that the buffalo burgers they ate in Medora were not from the last buffalo on earth. Just the second-to-last.

After the buffalo, we couldn’t get back to civilization fast enough. That doesn’t mean we’re not going back for Roughrider Days next year!