Aug 6
To be back on the 5th, we stayed in Missoula for only one night. The KOA we picked was also the choice of several groups of Harley Davidsonians who graciously provided a 90dB rise in ambient noise at both midnight and 5:30 AM. There was also a never-ending supply of them blasting through the serenity of Glacier Park. Why are cars required to have functional mufflers yet two-wheeled, rattle-trap, rude, exhibitionist haulers are allowed to explosively fart down the road all day and night long?
On Sunday, we biked through the University of Montana, went down town and got a thick, straw-licking, old-fashioned chocolate milk-shake and a most excellent green salad at Butterfly and Herbs, I hiked up to see the town from the big M on the hill (the tiny wite dot near the center of the picture just at the left corner of the semi-circular section of the auditorium is our camper, where the kids sat and waited for me to lose a bet I could climb it in half an hour), and then we said good-bye.
We made it to Missouri Headwaters State Park that night where Lewis (of Lewis and Clarke) supposedly stopped and declared the area the beginning of the Missouri River. We barbequed chicken on the grill and swatted mosquitoes until finally settling into the camper to watch the fifth Harry Potter movie. Ursula and I were steeling ourselves for the three-day, 2,100 mile driving marathon we were about to undertake.
Monday got us all the way through incredibly long Montana, Wyoming and just past Rapid City, SD to a little town called Murdo. As we neared Rapid City, the highway became a long parade of bikers. We found out later they make an annual pilgrimage to Sturgis where the town then becomes the largest collection of Harleys and pot bellies in the world.
Murdo was really quaint and the campground people spoke with an accent that made me really miss my Grandma and Grandpa who came from that part of the country. I have to say that although this trip was a tribute to those two, I also miss my other two grandparents every day. My entire life, as well as the way I’m raising my kids has been a tribute to the love and guidance they provided. When I think of home, I think of them.
After our second day of 700 plus miles, we had dinner at a Cracker Barrel restaurant in honor of Gee Gee (and also to make it a little easier on the crew). We then unromantically slept at a rest stop in Illinois. I woke up early so we could visit Bloomington Indiana for breakfast. It’s a nice, small university town with a conservative center and a more hip, eclectic area near the school.
Our last stretch of road was the curvy, extortionist, West Virginia turnpike, the only toll-road we had to take on the entire trip. Toll roads, what an ancient concept. They rank right up there with out-houses and tube radios. Obviously, governments that run armies, police forces, fire departments. trash collection, utilities and numerous other civil services are incapable of maintaining the roads they commissioned to begin with and have maintained for years, so we have to give them away for nothing to the KBR’s of the world who can then milk what has thus magically been turned into a commodity (that once was public infrastructure) to put more money into the rightful, scheming, crooked, Mafioso hands where it belongs. “Here take my wallet, my government, and my kids for your resource-grabbing invasion too, just don’t tax my gas, that would be socialist and downright unfair to the poor, struggling, little, social security check-thieving energy corporations.” I’m already losing my vacation zen.
We rolled into the driveway at seven thirty Wednesday evening in the pouring rain. I had to jump start one of the cars to clear the driveway for the camper and got a little wet doing it while Ursula made spaghetti. Everyone is happy to stretch out on a real bed, and having a clean shower and toilet only steps away is also pretty handy.
What a feat, we traveled over 8000 miles in 31 days! We missed a lot covering that much ground, but the trip was totally worth it. Now we know where and how we want to go the next time around and there will be less traveling and more camping.
Today, the strangest thing happened when I took the dogs out for a real hike after being away for so long. While walking on my favorite trail, I got to see the very animal we were so convinced we would see in Montana: a big, long-limbed, shiny black bear loping gracefully across the path away from the dogs about ten yards in front of me. I didn’t have time to be afraid. The thought that crossed my mind too quickly to be in words was an appreciation of its size and beauty. Its back would have easily come up to my belly-button. In two heartbeats, it was down the hill and I was yelling at the dogs not to chase it. They intelligently obliged. In the words of each of my grandparents, “How ‘bout that!?” “Well for cat’s sake!” “Holy mackerel!” and “Oooh!” I’ll remember that bear as one large, furry punctuation mark at the end of my vacation.
To be back on the 5th, we stayed in Missoula for only one night. The KOA we picked was also the choice of several groups of Harley Davidsonians who graciously provided a 90dB rise in ambient noise at both midnight and 5:30 AM. There was also a never-ending supply of them blasting through the serenity of Glacier Park. Why are cars required to have functional mufflers yet two-wheeled, rattle-trap, rude, exhibitionist haulers are allowed to explosively fart down the road all day and night long?
On Sunday, we biked through the University of Montana, went down town and got a thick, straw-licking, old-fashioned chocolate milk-shake and a most excellent green salad at Butterfly and Herbs, I hiked up to see the town from the big M on the hill (the tiny wite dot near the center of the picture just at the left corner of the semi-circular section of the auditorium is our camper, where the kids sat and waited for me to lose a bet I could climb it in half an hour), and then we said good-bye.
We made it to Missouri Headwaters State Park that night where Lewis (of Lewis and Clarke) supposedly stopped and declared the area the beginning of the Missouri River. We barbequed chicken on the grill and swatted mosquitoes until finally settling into the camper to watch the fifth Harry Potter movie. Ursula and I were steeling ourselves for the three-day, 2,100 mile driving marathon we were about to undertake.
Monday got us all the way through incredibly long Montana, Wyoming and just past Rapid City, SD to a little town called Murdo. As we neared Rapid City, the highway became a long parade of bikers. We found out later they make an annual pilgrimage to Sturgis where the town then becomes the largest collection of Harleys and pot bellies in the world.
Murdo was really quaint and the campground people spoke with an accent that made me really miss my Grandma and Grandpa who came from that part of the country. I have to say that although this trip was a tribute to those two, I also miss my other two grandparents every day. My entire life, as well as the way I’m raising my kids has been a tribute to the love and guidance they provided. When I think of home, I think of them.
After our second day of 700 plus miles, we had dinner at a Cracker Barrel restaurant in honor of Gee Gee (and also to make it a little easier on the crew). We then unromantically slept at a rest stop in Illinois. I woke up early so we could visit Bloomington Indiana for breakfast. It’s a nice, small university town with a conservative center and a more hip, eclectic area near the school.
Our last stretch of road was the curvy, extortionist, West Virginia turnpike, the only toll-road we had to take on the entire trip. Toll roads, what an ancient concept. They rank right up there with out-houses and tube radios. Obviously, governments that run armies, police forces, fire departments. trash collection, utilities and numerous other civil services are incapable of maintaining the roads they commissioned to begin with and have maintained for years, so we have to give them away for nothing to the KBR’s of the world who can then milk what has thus magically been turned into a commodity (that once was public infrastructure) to put more money into the rightful, scheming, crooked, Mafioso hands where it belongs. “Here take my wallet, my government, and my kids for your resource-grabbing invasion too, just don’t tax my gas, that would be socialist and downright unfair to the poor, struggling, little, social security check-thieving energy corporations.” I’m already losing my vacation zen.
We rolled into the driveway at seven thirty Wednesday evening in the pouring rain. I had to jump start one of the cars to clear the driveway for the camper and got a little wet doing it while Ursula made spaghetti. Everyone is happy to stretch out on a real bed, and having a clean shower and toilet only steps away is also pretty handy.
What a feat, we traveled over 8000 miles in 31 days! We missed a lot covering that much ground, but the trip was totally worth it. Now we know where and how we want to go the next time around and there will be less traveling and more camping.
Today, the strangest thing happened when I took the dogs out for a real hike after being away for so long. While walking on my favorite trail, I got to see the very animal we were so convinced we would see in Montana: a big, long-limbed, shiny black bear loping gracefully across the path away from the dogs about ten yards in front of me. I didn’t have time to be afraid. The thought that crossed my mind too quickly to be in words was an appreciation of its size and beauty. Its back would have easily come up to my belly-button. In two heartbeats, it was down the hill and I was yelling at the dogs not to chase it. They intelligently obliged. In the words of each of my grandparents, “How ‘bout that!?” “Well for cat’s sake!” “Holy mackerel!” and “Oooh!” I’ll remember that bear as one large, furry punctuation mark at the end of my vacation.
Missoula looks just the same!! Is that Markus' old house on Eddy?! He used to camp inside there in the winter (temps 20 below outside and the owners kept the heat so low he set up his tent inside his apartment).
ReplyDeleteEnjoyed all the blogs Chuck--made it feel like I was a secret stowaway in the RV as you bopped around the western US. Hope the transition back to the rat race isn't too painful! A little freedom's a dangerous thing ( ;
Thanks Patrick. You got the house right. I enjoyed writing the blog. I'm going to try and keep posting, but will have to work really hard to find subject matter that isn't contentious. Markus advised against "ruining" it with political content and I'm sure he's right, but it seeps out, you know? You're too right about that freedom. See you in the not too distant future.
ReplyDelete