Check-In from Mitchell, South Dakota

On my way back to Portland from Minneapolis, I found peace and unexpected hope in a quiet little stop.

Sometimes the road gifts you exactly what you didn’t know you needed.

This weekend was a whirlwind — Emily and Sara’s wedding (which was amazing, beautiful, emotional, and left my heart fuller than my suitcase). This morning I dropped Cade at the airport before dawn so he could resume his rotation, then hitched up the Casita and headed west. Chase (my co-pilot pup) and I rolled into Mitchell, South Dakota today, a town I had never even heard of until this week.

Set up under the trees in Mitchell, South Dakota. Chase is already on patrol while I settle into the peace of the evening.

We landed at a Harvest Host called Feathered Friends Farm. “Farm” might be a stretch — it feels more like a big, welcoming yard — but it’s shady, quiet, and the owners greeted me with the kind of warmth you’d expect from friendly neighbors. After dropping Cade off earlier, there was that familiar emptiness I always feel when he heads out for his long rotations. Ten weeks apart never gets easier, no matter how many times we do it. But pulling in here, setting up the Casita under the trees, and watching Chase stretch out contentedly on the grass brought a sense of comfort I didn’t realize I needed. Places like this soften the edges of goodbye and remind me that peace can still find its way in.

They also run a place in town called Bread and Vine Bistro. At first glance on Google, it was described as a “Christian casual coffee shop.” Seeing the word Christian in a business description usually makes my guard go up. For many of us in communities that have too often been rejected or excluded by religious groups, that word can carry a sting. It has too often been used as code for “you may not belong here.”

Bread and Vine Bistro — a reminder that community can be both welcoming and surprising. Proof that labels don’t have to divide us.

But instead of closing the tab and writing it off, I kept scrolling… and there it was: LGBTQ+ friendly, progress flag heart and all. And right below that? Women-owned.

I almost teared up seeing it. It wasn’t what I expected to find here in Mitchell, South Dakota. And yet, in this quiet little corner of the map, there it was: proof that people can embrace faith while also embracing love, inclusivity, and community. Proof that labels don’t have to divide us.

Tonight, as the sun set, I poured a glass of wine under the trees with Chase by my side and let my anxious brain finally slow down. Peace shows up in unexpected places. And sometimes, so does hope.

– R. Michael

Evenings like this are why I love the road. A glass of wine, a quiet spot, and Sofia standing steady behind me.

P.S. If you like these kinds of reflective detours, you might enjoy my other series, Not That Anyone Asked — where I share more of life’s left-turn lessons, sometimes funny, sometimes messy, always real.