It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. (How’s the novel going, Son?) The exciting news is that we added four new categories to our roadkill chart; bird, snake, coyote and skunk. Only one of each for those categories, and clearly the fox and rabbits are in the lead otherwise, each with two more to their numbers. If we were counting insects, the numbers would be fairly astounding. Our windshield is pathetic, and the whiteness of the Honda only serves to illuminate the guts of all the little creatures we have destroyed. The worst of times – potentially the evening’s lodging. It is reminiscent of 1970’s with suspicious characters in the parking lot. Having a door with three deadbolts is a tad disconcerting, but other than that, we are comfortable. A clean bed is always welcome, and that we have.
Today’s adventures began with a hunt for breakfast found at a delightful coffee shop with great croissant egg sandwiches. (The bagel delivery had not been made for the day or we would have had bagel egg sandwiches. We were up so early!) That is not true. We slept in. The bagel delivery guy must have, also. If we had been able to stay in Deadwood for the day we could have taken a glass-blowing glass at the coffee shop. It was quite a multi-focused space.
We hit the road and wound our way out of the Black Hills – made it to the Wyoming border again for a photo and convivial chatting with a biker couple. We took each other’s photos, bid adieu, and headed to the Montana border, only minutes away. After successfully documenting our entry into that fine port, the co-pilot took her daily morning nap. We passed through beautiful Cherokee and Crow country, all without a bathroom in sight. Thus, the stop in Ashland was necessary, and the grocery store provided a bit of respite for us, as well as snacks.
If we had been counting casinos instead of roadkill, we would be in the thousands by now. I have shirked my duty and not taken my daughter gambling. Feeling a tad guilty for that oversight, she assured me she had already been gambling with friends and an education in the slots was not necessary. I am hoping to learn other fascinating facts about my daughter on the trip.
Our biggest stop was a totally fortuitous one. When my daughter awakened and took over the driving, and the road got a little boring, (ha!) she suggested praying a rosary. We did so, and quite by divine intervention, we finished it as we came to the entrance of the Little Big Horn national cemetery and battlefield. It was a beautiful, wind-swept area. The quaint visitor center had a wonderful film outlining the history of the Sioux nation and their loss of tribal lands and customs. The Little Bighorn was a victory for them, but a short-lived one. The death of Custer brought the wrath of the US government upon the tribes. I think it was only a year or two after that, all Native Americans surrendered and began life on reservations. Anyway, a sobering monument and worthy tribute. We were happy that we were making time good, rather than good time.
Our two-lane driving finally came to an end with interstate 90 – good and bad. Always nice to have a permanent passing lane. Always boring to be on interstate. We were hungry about the time we came to Livingston, Montana. Getting off to head into town, we saw that the Sacajawea park was hosting a Farmer’s Market. We went there. Fun! We acquired more vacation jewelry, a splendid gift for the financier of our trip, Mr. Husbad, and had dinner at the Soba noodle hut. (I don’t know the name, but it was darn good stir-fry with sriracha.) We ate and listened to the band. We were the only ones listening, I believe. In need of a restroom, and not too excited about the port-a-potties, we headed into town and found a friendly Shopko! Perfect, as we needed some gum. Polar ice flavored was our choice for chewing pleasure.
We then drove out of town and on to Butte where we are currently preparing to sleep. It won’t take long for that to happen! Tomorrow we are heading to the Yakima Valley to some wineries. (totally spur-of-the-moment decision based on the recommendation of the Wyoming Wildlife Conservation guy whom we met at the Sacajawea Park event.). Thus, we have to get some sleep and get up early for real. No dilly-dallying! Those tasting rooms close at 5…and our drive looks to be a good six hours. It’s nice to have a motivation for early departures.
I’m sure you are riddled with questions about our excursion, possibly dying for more details. I don’t have any. I am quite brain dead right now. Thank you all for your positive thoughts and prayers for our safe travels. We are doing quite well. Oh! We are down to six state license plates needed for our count. Apparently the people in South Carolina, Vermont, New Hampshire, West Virginia, Hawaii, and DELAWARE do not travel. Hawaii, we understand. But surely the peeps in those other states need to get out of there? It is a challenge we hope to conquer by combing parking lots tomorrow. (Perhaps after the wine tasting.) Peaceful slumbers to you….
Peaceful slumbers to you….