The saying here in North Dakota is, “if you don’t like the weather, just wait a half hour, it will change.” I found that quite funny at first but it holds almost true to form. Today was a glorious one on the course with sun on the shoulders and enough breeze to keep the gnats and mosquitoes subdued. After work, Aaron and Patrick came to the motorhome toting three pizzas that needed baked. These lads are two college students from Fargo, interning at the course in hopes of becoming pro golfers. For some reason, they’ve adopted Robin and I as surrogate parents. Youngsters just seem to gravitate to us for some unknown reason. While we were baking the pizzas and reminiscing the days events at work, the weather turned stormy real quick. In fact, tornado warnings went through the campground buzz like a hot knife through butter. Every one was abuzz concerning an imminent tornado touchdown. When I told the boys that one of my bucket list items was to chase a tornado, get as close as I can to it, and then photograph, they looked at me and said, ‘let’s go.’ We all jumped into the Jeep and rode atop the hill to the musical amphitheater to get a better view. We could see the winds blowing in two different directions, a great start for a cyclone. Heading down the hill and into town we found everything closed down, a severe wind playing havoc with everything not nailed down and a darkening far prior to its time. Heading north and into the park we climbed Buck Hill to have the highest vantage point. By this time, the old saying rang true again–the weather had subdued and golden skies were breaking through the clouds. Later we found out that in Dickinson, the town in which we gather our supplies at weeks end, did entertain and tornado and several buildings, churches, and housing units were demolished in its aftermath. We just were lucky this time.