So yesterday we of course got lost. We saw a billboard advertising a Montana bookstore with over 100,000 titles at the next exit.... but there was some confusion as to which exit it actually was. So we exited two stops down and drove forever (like 15 miles) to the historic ranger station/museum. The ranger and his wife were so sweet and gave us directions to the bookstore which was in Alberton... just one exit the other way. We followed the ranger's directions perfectly, a right at the stop sign, after about 20 minutes of driving through gorgeous farms on a dirt and gravel road I said, "I think we've gone more than five miles", so we turn around. Feeling frisky I cross the road to the "west side" (i forget the road's name) thinking it might be a shortcut. Oh no, we quickly turned back, headed to the station, after a moment's hesitation at the four way stop sign , headed the right way and got back on the I-90... and no we never made it to the bookstore.
Driving through Montana I think of the old cliche " the sky's always bigger in Montana", it really is. Driving through hundreds of miles of green meadows, intermittently populated with cows, horses and family farms,l ined on either side with gorgeous, gently slanting mountains, the thing that arrests your eyes and heart is the sky. The clouds peaking over a far away, periwinkle mountain range look like an illustration out of a children's story, or something from a dream. Every day with out fail the brilliant sky holds up perfectly crafted clouds, the ones that you can see shapes in, and that hold the light inside.
Spotting signs for Beaver Dam campground we turn off and choose the correct road. You can't really call it a road, it's really just a giant pot hole. (the front end of my honda has been super glued together and usually fares fine, this was too much for it, it is now held together by duct tape. classy.) We drive for six or eight miles along a gravel road, occasionally seeing signs informing us, miraculously, we are going the correct way. As we enter the camp ground Hannah for sees the future by saying "I feel like we are entering into a short story". We successfully pitch our tent at campsite number 12, and pay for two nights ( at $5 a night we are getting what we aren't paying for, a "toilet"... and nothing else). The rain is just a gentle drip, calmed down form the torrential downpour we drove through on the way here. I head off with my Capote novel, "in Cold Blood", maybe not the best choice for this trip... and sit on a rock by the rushing river to read for a bit. It wasn't meant to be, the rain started coming down harder and as I walked back to the car I heard Hannah shouting for me... The keys had slipped from her pocket and were now safely residing in the trunk, where we could not reach them, in short we were locked out of the car.
We walked over to the neighboring campsite and knocked on the RV door. We must have looked pretty bedraggled and forlorn because Barb let us in and took pity on us. Neither Hannah nor I had our cell-phones (both in the car) so with her intermittent service she sent texts to her husband (working the graveyard shift in Butte, where they live) and her sister asking for the triple A number. She also texted Gary, a friend of her husband's who was camping nearby. Gary responded by asking what kind of car we drive... a glimmer of hope appeared in the rain streaked horizon... While we waited for an answer we squeezed onto the bench next to Cassie, Barb's four? year old daughter, who was ecstatic at our presence. We were seated facing Kenyon and Shannon, his friend, and were quickly taught to play a card game called "trash"... all the while Will, the adorable younger brother of Kenyon and Cassie was alternatley shyly regarding us from the comfort of his mothers lap, scrambling all over the RV, bannana in hand, or scowling at my smiling attempts to befriend him.
No answer yet so Barb, Hannah, Cassie, Will and I load into the truck and drive to end of the "driveway" to get cell reception... Gary says he is on his way so we head back to the trailer to wait and play more cards. As the rain starts letting up we see a mint green truck bearing the forest service emblem and scramble down the steps and stop them. Them being Harold, a retired man in his late 70's? wearing camo pants and chevrolet sweatshirt who volunteers with the forest service, and Tammy a woman who teaches special education to the 7th and 8th graders at the local school and works this job in the summers. Soon after Gary & co arrive on ATV's, and a motor bike brandishing a wire coat hanger. After several failed attempts Gary gives up for fear of destroying the window and we wait while Tammy get's ahold of triple A. Actually she got ahold of Dave? who works at Garyboy's in Butte and after some slight cajoling agreed to come rescue us. In the meantime Gary and the crew took off while Tammy and Harold chopped us some firewood and built us a fire. After we finally rescued the keys and Tammy offered multiple times to let us shower at her house or call her if we needed anything (everyone seemed a bit reticent to leave us alone over night) I ambled over to the tent only to realize it had flooded and the sleeping bags and blankets were a bit damp. We loaded everything into the car and headed into town for a laundromat. We found one titled "Suds and Fun, laundromat and casino".
Safely back at the campsite we looked at the dark clouds looming overhead and the flashes of lightning in the distance and decided to sleep in the car. It was actually pretty comfy, and more importantly dry. Waking up to a gorgeous day Hannah went for a run and I walked, barefoot, in my bathing suit through the jungley underbrush to the ice cold stream. Stupidest thing I have ever done? It's definitely up there...
After washing my face and getting my hair wet I walked back. At this point I knew I had more mosquito bites than when I had woken up but I didn't realize how many until I heard Hannah gasp and saw the horror in her eyes. My back was literally covered, looking at my reflection in the car door I felt a bit nauseous... These bites were huge. I slathered myself in bug spray, anti-itch lotion, and more bug spray, quickly erasing an idea I had of "feeling clean" after washing in the stream.
And I think that just about brings you all up to speed! Stay tuned for Yellowstone, starting tomorrow... who knows what will happen in a park that big. Getting lost? without question. poison oak, more mosquito bites? most likely. Incurring further damage to our tent?( one pole is already a bit broken). probably.
-A
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