Tag Archives: Bozeman

The Intrepid Journey 2018: Opportunity Knocks

16 Monday Apr 2018

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I hate the saying “everything Happens for a Reason.”

 

Sometimes, there is no reason.

 

But, in many things, I find myself embracing new opportunities where once I had seen closed doors.

 

Does opportunity knock, or do we make our own?

 

Are both true?

 

I’ve made a decision since last I wrote: I’m skipping Missoula. Sure, I booked a bus ticket to Missoula (and not using it will leave me out $30), but other bus route cancellations have made visiting there impractical. I’m spending an extra day and night in Flathead County, making my way to Great Falls by train and bus a couple days earlier than originally planned, which leaves me some time to spend in Butte! I’ve heard both amazing things about Butte, and have been told by other people to skip it. But since I was able to easily find accommodations in Butte (compared to the hostile reception by multiple Missoulian AirBNB hosts), and there’s a ton of historical stuff within walking distance, I figure I can’t REALLY go wrong. I’ve also been able to locate places to stay in Bozeman and Billings, which now completes the accommodation search. YAY!

 

Transportation is still a concern (though research has told me that there may be schedule changes later this month); and here I thought that would be the easy part of trip planning!

 

WRONG!

 

But… opportunities.

 

Wonderful opportunities.

 

I’ve been toying with the idea of running a half-marathon for the past couple years, and I happened to Google what races might be running in Montana while I’m in the State.

 

And I found one.

 

I have signed up for the Montana Marathon in Billings! It’s a day earlier than I planned to get there, but there’s a half-marathon! I’m tired of saying that someday I might run a half-marathon… I am going to run a half-marathon five months from today! I’m still working out some logistics – when I will get into town, who will be my guide runner, and how I plan to train both at home and away – but this is honestly the most right-feeling thing about this trip. It’s yet another way I will grow and stretch and push myself and meet more people… I couldn’t be happier!

 

Without the canceling of bus routes and shuffling my itinerary and putting it all back together again, this wouldn’t be possible.

 

So I’ll be running mile after mile, doing squats and planks and stair-climbs, thanking Opportunity for knocking when I was in a position to answer.

 

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The Intrepid Journey 2018: Preparing by the Seat of My Pants

06 Saturday Jan 2018

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A dream of a solo journey through Montana was born while driving down a highway in the summer of 2017, passing cities I thought might be fun. I hadn’t even unpacked my bag from that trip before I started looking up bus routes to make this next trip happen.
Four months later, I’ve waffled almost constantly between excitement, ambivalence, and apprehension. The first thing I booked was my train ticket from Seattle to Whitefish, Montana, splurging on a sleeper car; it seemed like an appropriate celebratory purchase when my work position went from a term contract to a permanent position. Any time I had some extra spending money, I put it into bus tickets – as of this writing, five of them had been booked. My wonderful husband gave me an Alaska Airlines gift card for Christmas, so I’m just waiting for my flight from Edmonton to Seattle to possibly decrease in price; and I’d have no money at all if I booked my flight right now from Denver back home. But that will come.
As for accommodation, my goal is to meet people, which pretty much rules out the segregation and sterility of hotels. An accommodating AirBNB host in Cheyenne put up no resistance regarding Jenny, though he did express concern regarding me navigating his basement steps (and lest anyone think it’s a blind thing, he posted about it in his listing itself, so I doubt it). A friend in Denver has offered to put me up for a weekend (though I won’t identify them at this point). I snapped up pet-friendly accommodations within my (admittedly cheap) budget in Seattle, Helena and Great Falls, with hosts who appear to be more than welcoming. Just this morning, I booked my one night in a hostel in Whitefish – who can go wrong staying in a spot with storage for bags and a vegetarian restaurant and smoothie bar?
And then there’s Missoula.
I’ve had service dog refusals before, but I’ve had two notable AirBNB hosts in Missoula who have been incredibly unwelcoming and rude (not to mention discriminatory and in violation of AirBNB’s inclusion policy regarding assistance animals). Correspondence with AirBNB on this issue has given me little more than reiterations of the policies I already know.

So I promised myself – both as a way to save my pennies for now and a way to preserve my own mental well-being – to put my 25-AirBNB-listing Missoula wish list (and my smaller ones for Bozeman and Billings) on hold temporarily.

And it’s a darn good thing I did!

I got a call from Greyhound this afternoon, telling me that my scheduled trip from Missoula to Great Falls had been canceled outright, and my revised trips from Helena to Bozeman and Bozeman to Billings (thanks to cancellations of my purchased daytime routes) would involve arriving at the bus station in Bozeman in the middle of the night. I had hoped to avoid overnight travel altogether as much as possible, and I found myself standing in my bedroom, laughing uproariously at the absurdity of all this; if I didn’t laugh, I guarantee I would’ve been crying. The Greyhound representative refunded those tickets that had been impacted by the route cancelations, and I’m in contact with Jefferson Lines (the partner company) to see if there are plans for revised daytime schedules in the near future.

My sister-in-law, Sarah – who many readers got to know through my Epic Road Trip of Awesome series – recently described me (and this journey) as “intrepid”. I am resolute and dauntless about this trip, even though I have no idea how it’s all going to pan out. Never has it felt more true – or more freeing or more scary – at this moment.

So, I’ll be putting bookings on hold for the time being, just to wait and see how the stars align in the next few months.

But, hey, I’ve got some extra cash thanks to those refunds, and can start saving more. Maybe I should book those flights!

The Epic Road trip of Awesome Day 8: “Will Run For…?”

27 Friday Oct 2017

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Saturday, September 2, 2017
We’ve got no particular plans for today, but we continue our habit of being up by 7:00 AM. Ben’s use of the larger air mattress has given him (and by extention us) a more restful sleep.
The campers in the site next to us have brought a young kitten with them. This cat has spent most of its time in the car, meowing its little head off. Sarah notices this, and it makes me sad.
The four of us make our way to the showers, where I notice that not only the showers but the washrooms have curtains rather than doors. I think I like it; it’s easy to keep clean and free of mold.
I’ve changed into a pair of shorts and the T-shirt I bought from Mark earlier in the week. The back of the shirt says “Will Run for Pie”, and I am on a mission to eat pie while wearing that shirt. I refuse to be denied!
I’m in the tent, rolling sleeping bags, when a woman comes by our camp site to see if anyone has lost a bracelet. Turns out, it was mine! I had placed the bracelet Dad gave me for my birthday beside my toiletry bag and promptly forgotten about it. I thank her profusely for returning it to me, and the four of us meet our campsite neighbors with the kitten. The kids don’t seem to care that I can’t see, as I snuggle the little ball of kitten fluff. I think of Wolfie, who’s still growing, and remember Dash, who’s the only kitty I’ve ever had be that small. I’m missing them more fiercely than ever, and as much fun as I’m having, I just want to go home.

We pack up the roof bag for the last time, putting all of our camping gear on the roof and cramming our backpacks in the trunk. Dwight wonders why we haven’t always done this, and I don’t have a good answer for him.

We hit the road back to Bozeman, and hoshi is still holding her own. we definitely need to visit a mechanic when we get back to Edmonton, but the immediate crisis is over.

With Jenny, it’s not going so well. We pull up in front of Cafe M, and she limps slightly as we walk to the door. Sarah notices, too, and makes a concerned comment. I wonder if it’s because her paws are tender from the heat of yesterday, or if it’s something else. Sarah has trained with horses for years and describes where she sees the origin of the limp. Thankfully it’s not her hips, but her hock. I worry about my guide, who wears her big open Labrador heart on her sleeve. For her to show this level of pain breaks my heart.

We enter the cafe, and I immediately smell something lemony. Could this be pie? might I have pie with my breakfast and complete my mission of getting a picture of my eating pie while wearing this awesome shirt?

It’s not pie.

We order breakfast – surprisingly large and savory portions – with our coffee, and chat about what we’d like to do in Bozeman today… and the party we’re going to throw in the hotel room tonight. At one point, I get up to take Jenny outside. her limp is more noticeable the longer we walk. I’m not gone for more than ten minutes, and when I come back inside, ben’s gone (for some reason he never shared with me) to go get more money out of the bank machine. Little matter that I have plenty of cash with me; he HAD to get more, and get charged through the nose by our bank for the privilege. I’m more annoyed than I should be. I’m having so much fun here, but I seriously just want to go home, and home has never felt so close – just within my grasp – and yet so far away. It all boils over into an emotional overreaction that makes me feel like crap.

We finish our coffees and walk down E Main St. We pop into brick buildings, new and old. Dwight buys a nice pair of pants – “with ALL the pockets!” he gushes. At every place we stop, I massage Jenny’s hind leg near her hip. She seems to feel better, and she walks a little smoother each time. Sarah notices, too,and thinks that she – like us – is stiff and sore from so many hours curled up in the car, but will otherwise be fine.

Then we pop into the Montana Gift Corral. We are greeted warmly and offered coffee, and I just know I could spend hours here. I browse around for T-shirts, and find one that’s the softest fabric. It’s black, with a saying I love on the front. I zip into the washroom to try it on, and it fits nicely. I come out to the front, triumphant, and Ben shows me what he’s found.

He’s found a small plaque with a picture of a black Lab that says “Never camp Alone”. My eyes well with tears as the poignancy of this whole week, camping with this beautiful guide, hits me full force.

I’m standing at the counter, paying for my T-shirt, when Ben tells me he’d like to give me a bracelet. It caught Sarah’s eye, and Ben agreed it looks gorgeous. I try it on. I like it a lot, but it fits a little big, and I worry about the clasp staying closed and the bracelet remaining on my wrist. The words don’t come out right; I don’t want Ben and Sarah to think I don’t appreciate it – because I do! – but it doesn’t quite suit me. At a loss, I say only that I worry about it staying on my hand because of its size and my wrist because of the clasp. The bracelet is purchased along with the plaque, and once again, I feel like crap.

We walk up and down East Main Street, as the day heats up and smoke lingers in the air from ever-present wildfires. Ben seems equally as edgy as I feel, because without warning he goes off to be alone for a few minutes and the three of us continue browsing Main Street. When ben meets up with us a few minutes later, we come across a small park, and sit down to wait a few minutes before making our way to a tattoo parlor that opens at noon. We get to that place only to find them closed. Sarah finds another one up the block, and she walks down there as we make our way back to the car. Less than 30 minutes later, we pick up a newly-tattooed Sarah and hit the road for our hotel.

 

Bozeman, MT – Izaak Walton Inn

Distance: 312 miles (502 km)

Travel Time: 6 hours (including stops)

We’re all weary and exhausted. Bozeman has been just as hot as Billings was yesterday. We just want to get to the hotel, let our hair down, and PARTY!

The miles go by as we fly down the interstates. When we reach Butte, I’m disappointed we have no time to stop. When helena is within spitting distance, I realize I can’t add to the list of state capitals I’ve visited. I muse dreamily about how it would be to travel Montana by bus, from city to city, and the spark of a dream was born.

We stop in a small town near Augusta, where we pay for fuel at a station that feels like it’s entirely made of wood. The floors creak, the washrooms are so small that they might as well be called closets, and the muggy air is blown around by a single fan near the cashier counter. It feels good to stand around and chat, but soon it’s time to hit the road again.

We make it to Browning right on schedule – 5:30. We stop at one grocery store, who doesn’t seem to have anything we’re looking for. We go back to the car and go to another store, where we buy a fried chicken meal from the deli, the best of the meagre chip selection that seems to be prevalent in the States,  and enough alcohol for a group twice our size. We come out paying less than $20 a person, and giddily drive the next hour to the Izaak Walton Inn.

We check in just after 6:30 and get our room keys. I ask if the restaurant has pie, and am told they don’t, but the bar downstairs should. I’m giddy; I might JUST get my picture!

It takes us two full trips to carry our backpacks, food, booze, and other supplies the three flights of stairs to our room. It’s huge! There’s a queen bed in each of the two rooms, along with a twin bed and a twin futon. We chill 4 drinks in the sink as we dig into the chicken. ben wants to go take pictures of trains, Dwight and Sarah want to go down to the bar, and I want my pie! The three of us go downstairs as Ben goes to take his pictures.

My hopes for pie are dashed… again.

There is no pie.

But there IS cobbler!

I’ll run for cobbler!

 

My T-shirt says “Will Run for Pie”, with “Cobbler” written on a napkin. You can also see the cobbler

 

I have already had one drink, plus the chicken, and I’m not feeling well. I think it’s the chicken, so I guzzle a ton of water while picking at my delicious cobbler. I make a comment that the piano in the bar is out of tune, and Dwight and I disagree about whether it sounds harmonious or not. Dwight says he’ll refrain from telling the bartender that I play, for which I thank him profusely.

Eventually, Dwight and Sarah go for a walk outside, leaving Ben and I alone for a few precious moments. We are now relaxed, more relaxed than we’ve been in a while, and we talk openly about this trip – what we wish had been different, our personal highlights, what changed in us. I tell him about my dream – of traveling Montana by bus – alone – and he’s surprised. I think in a way he’s a little hurt, too, or maybe confused is a better word. But the idea has gripped me so strongly that I know it’s something I need to do. The pieces haven’t fallen into place, but I’ve fallen in love with this state and its people, and I have a feeling I will learn even more about myself on this upcoming dream-trip than I have on this awesome adventure we’ve been on for the past week. It’s not logical, it doesn’t make sense even to me, but it’s something I know I just HAVE to do, and I’ll work out the details later.

Sarah and Dwight come back, giddy with alcohol and the night air, and we break into the chips and the drinks and a rousing game of Cards against Humanity. Over the past year, ben’s collected almost all the expantion packs, and the game is spread out over the bench seat. Dwight sits on Ben’s and by Bed, while Ben takes the couch and Sarah and I grab chairs. We keep drinks out of the way of hands and feet, laugh uproariously at the questions and answers, go on rabbit trails, talk more, drink more, eat more chips…

The clock strikes midnight, and we’re suddenly exhausted. Ben and I retired to our bed, while Sarah and Dwight stay up later, chatting. Their voices and laughter soothe me to sleep as our last night in Montana draws to a close.

The Epic Road trip Of Awesome Day 7: “I’ll have a Bucket of Chili and a Wad of potatoes, Please!”

25 Wednesday Oct 2017

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Friday, September 1, 2017
The crickets are now silent. Jenny has not left my side. I wake up with my legs squished between my dog and my husband, whose snoring has helped keep some of us awake. We’re going to try and reconfigure the sleeping arrangements tonight, to see if we can get a better sleep.
Smoke hangs heavy in the air from wildfires in the area. But it’s so cold outside that I wish I’d packed gloves. I’m glad I packed a pair of jeans and a heavier sweater; I’m going to need it today.
While I grab my toiletry bag from my backpack, Jenny goes outside with Sarah, and she’s fascinated by the kitty cat roaming around the camp site. She does a great job of sniffing the grass instead of investigating the cat. I’m reminded of our three sweet kitties at home and I miss them terribly.
Sarah and I make our way to the showers. They aren’t quite as nice as yesterday’s, but both of us want to stand under the water for longer than we really need to. I turn off my shower first, Sarah calls me a rude name, and we laugh about the absurdity of this. I change into my jeans and sweater and I’m suddenly not shivering as we make our way back to the camp site.
We bring the mattress bags out of the car and start unloading them and sorting clothes. I sort my clean laundry into outfits, roll them, and pack them into my bag. For a few minutes I think I have misplaced a sock, only to find that sock right where I tucked it in the back pocket of my jeans. While we’re packing our laundry into our backpacks, Jenny has figured out how to open the zipper on the tent…

jenny’s head is sticking out of the tent

 

Lori told us last night that we don’t have to worry about a checkout time. We leave the tent and sleeping bags at the camp site and head over to Lariat Country Kitchen. The chairs and tables are so close together that Jenny’s quite confused as to how she’s going to guide me through them. She does a stellar job and curls up beside my chair to the ooooohs and aahhhhhs of fellow diners.
We order our coffee (no pitcher today) and our breakfasts. I choose the chili skillet, of which everyone tries a sample. Sarah likes it so much that she wants to take that chili home in a bucket. I admit that I prefer these potatoes to the ones we had in Idaho; THOSE ones were just kinda clumped together – like a wad of potatoes. The joke around the table is that someone should order a bucket of chili and a wad of potatoes; no one dreamed that Sarrah would get part of her wish. When our waitress comes back to ask if we need anything, Sarah asks if they have buckets of that chili to order. “Well, not really a bucket, but a to-go cup,” comes the reply. She brings out the to-go cup, which is the size of…. a small bucket.
So… a bucket of chili it is!
We drive from Lariat Country Kitchen the 16 miles (26 km) to Little Bighorn National Monument. Ben and I travel around the paths, reading the plaques and eavesdropping on the cell phones of other visitors who downloaded the local app. Sarah and Dwight take another route because Dwight needs another bathroom break, prompting us all to joke about his inopportune timing. jenny guides me along the paved path, but I keep her Newtrix on her to keep her nose out of the grass (there are signs indicating there are rattlesnakes in the area).

It’s incredibly moving to see the headstones, marking the actual places where people died. The plaques all provide information about a battle I’ve barely even heard of, and I wish we could spend more time here, learning about the war and the people who fought it.

 

Custer's Headstone

 

 

We agreed to meet Sarah and Dwight back at the visitors centre. They aren’t done their tour yet, but Ben and I can explore. As soon as we walk in, we are told about the film they show (hourly?) and are offered the opportunity to watch it using descriptive video. If we didn’t have a long drive ahead of us tonight, I would’ve jumped at the chance to catch it. As it is, I thank them for not only knowing what descriptive video is, but for offering it to me with no questions asked.

We make our way to the gift shop, Where we meet Kay. She works for one of the tour companies, and she’s super friendly. She asks great quesitons about Jenny, including why she wears a “muzzle.” I show her how Jenny can open her mouth fully while wearing the Newtrix, and explain that it gives me a little more tactile feedback of her head movements. Kay thanks me, and then shows Ben and I some books she thinks he should check out. Ben buys two books, with complementary perspectives on the Battle of Little Bighorn – one written from the military point of view, the other in support of the native Americans. (As an aside, the use of the word “Indian” is seemingly acceptable to describe Native Americans, and I wonder if it’s how they refer to themselves; in Canada, the word “Indian” is considered an insult). We thank Kay for her suggestions, and she tells us to come on back and bring her some ketchup chips.

I find a badge for Jenny’s blanket and a keychain, and go wait for the others in the car. Ben meets up with Dwight and Sarah, and they tour around the graveyard for a while, while I’m sitting and waiting impatiently in the hot car and Jenny’s trying to eat the fruit flies that have taken over our $8 bag of grapes. My choice of jeans and a sweater now seems foolish; It’s warm and sunny outside, and I am BOILING.

We drive back to the camp site, throw out the grapes, and start packing up the tent. On our way out, we stop by the gift shop to check out. Lori tells us about the fire last December that damaged much of her merchandise, and the smoke – not unpleasantly – can still be sensed in the air. Lori’s thrilled that she was able to find an entire box of medium T-shirts, and I buy a red one with a couple of bears on it, while Dwight and Sarah browse around for mugs. She also has nightgowns, and I buy one with wolves painted on it. My discretionary money is dwindling rapidly, but I can’t go wrong with clothing.

We wave our goodbyes, and promise to return, and make our way to solo time in Billings.

 

Grandview Campground – Billings, MT
Distance: 47 miles (76 km)
Travel Time: 45 minutes

 

As soon as the car starts moving, I realize that I have a solution to my clothing dilemma. I duck below the window of the car and quickly change from my sweater to my new T-shirt. The relief is intense!

We’re all itching to go off and do our own thing today. Seven full days of pretty much 24/7 togetherness has proven to be almost too much. I hope we can all reset, regroup, and come back together and enjoy the last two days of our trip.

We pull up to Brockel’s Chocolates and agree to meet back there in two hours. Dwight wants a coffee, and I’m feeling adventurous, so I ask if he wants me to help locate a coffee shop. He agrees, and follows me and Jenny as we open the door to a hair salon. I crack a joke about needing a haircut, and they tell me they’re booked all day. But they tell me about the great coffee shop around the corner at the end of the block. Jenny guides us flawlessly to the door, and I wave goodbye to Dwight, as I duck out of the coffee shop in search of my own adventures.

Nearby Explorer comes to the rescue again, providing me location information as I walk up and down the city streets. I’m stunned by the audible signals that – unlike the ones that “chirp” and “coocoo” at home – actually have a human voice indicate which direction has the red or green light. I stop myself from standing at the corner and listening to it talk for several cycles.

I’m feeling like going into businesses and seeing what they sell or do. Up one block, I find a shop that sells “Indian” art (a term that makes me flinch), another that sells vintage clothing (that turns me off with its faux fur-trimmed jackets), and a couple of restaurant patios. I walk back the way Dwight and I came, and ask a couple of fellow pedestrians for recommendations for coffee shops. They point out the one Dwight’s currently sitting in, and I ask them for another recommendation. They laugh, telling me they just arrived yesterday from Texas, but they heard about this cool coffee shop around the corner…

I wind up at Mazevo Coffee, where I order a coffee and a sandwich. I chat with the guy behind the counter (whose name I can’t remember) and he talks about traveling through Montana and cool places to see. Other locals come in and are greeted warmly. I soak in the atmosphere of this tiny coffee shop and learn a few things about Billings. By the time I stand up to leave, an hour has passed and I know I’ll be back to Mazevo next time I get out this way.

I backtrack slightly, past the restaurant patios, then try and find another cool place to spend some time. I open the door to Magpie Jewelry Gallery, and I am asked if Jenny is my service dog. The use of the word “your” instead of “a” takes me aback slightly, but I decide I like it. I answer the question (“Yes”) and Sam introduces herself. We talk about her shop and the designers she supports, and I choose a crocheted wrap bracelet. As Sam and I chat, I almost buy an adorable mug with a black dog and an orange-and-white cat on it, but that would stretch my budget far too thin. I tell Sam I’m from Edmonton, and she asks if I’m traveling with anyone – no one comes from Edmonton, and a woman came in an hour ago from there. I’m surprised, and ask more questions, and it turns out that Sarah made her way here! As I ring up my purchases (the wrap bracelet and a cool magnet a friend back home will love), Sam tells me that she’s surprised at another coincidence – she supports more than 30 jewelry designers, and Sarah and I chose pieces by the same one. I laugh, wave goodbye, and get ready to head back to the car.

It’s twenty minutes before we’d agreed to meet up, but I’m feeling refreshed and happy and, frankly, tired of my own company. Jenny finds the car like she’s got doggie radar, and wiggles and waggles when she sees Ben waiting for her. He’s feeling refreshed and happy, too, and we make our way into Brockel’s Chocolates for ice cream.

Sarah makes her way to us as we are eating our ice cream bars. Dwight has gotten turned around but has made the acquaintance of someone who’s agreed to walk with him to meet us. As we stand on the hot pavement, we have an impromptu team meeting.

I’ve been looking forward to visiting Garnet, a real ghost town, since we planned this trip. It’s now 3:30, and Garnet’s no fewer than five hours away. I ask if we really want to take that drive to Garnet, or if we want to go back and see Bozeman. It’s no choice at all; we can get into Bozeman by suppertime, then drive for 5 hours to our hotel tomorrow. I’m surprisingly not disappointed by this change of plans.

We pile into the car and, as we hit the road, we compare our notes and impressions and marvel at the places we overlapped.

 

Billings, MT – Bear Canyon Campground
Distance: 136 miles (219 km)
Travel Time: 2.5 hours (including stops)

 

Somehow, Sarah’s bucket of chili has been knocked over and has now spilled into the plastic bag containing it. I’m disappointed by this; it’s our bucket of chili! We laugh about Sarah and I stumbling into the same jewelry shop; apparently Ben and Dwight wound up in the same coffee shop. Dwight people-watched at one of the restaurants I passed more than once. I’m refreshed and happy and I’m so excited we’re going to see Bozeman.

I pull up Nearby Explorer and find a campground near Bozeman. We’re a bit concerned we may not find one, because it’s the Friday of the Labour Day weekend. Phone calls to several campsites go unanswered, and we decide to just cross our fingers and hope for the best.

we pull into Bear Canyon Campground just after 6:00. A sign says there are no vacancies, but Ben goes in to see if there’s space for our tent. There is! We pull into our camp site, pitch the tent, and take off for supper.

There are a couple of things that concern us. Hoshi, our beloved Nissan, has started making rumbling sounds as Ben accelerates. Jenny’s limping slightly on her back legs. One or both of these things could be something minor… or something very serious. But there’s nothing we can do about it at this exact second. We need to eat sooner rather than later.

We end up at a Wendy’s that appears to be having an identity crisis. There’s more than 40 flavors of pop in the fountain machine, many varieties of which I’ve never seen before. Jenny backs away from the machine as it hisses and pops, but takes me to an empty table. We eat our dinner while checking for mechanic shops, surprised by the soothing music that would be more at home than a spa juxtaposed against the college football being shown on TV screens. I’ve been in spas that are less zen than this Wendy’s.

Ben and I brood some, about the car and Miss Jenn. In the middle of dinner, ben goes out to the car to check under the hood, and finds there is no motor oil at all. This buoys my spirits; hopefully we can add oil and all will be well.

And that’s what we do. We drive to the nearest gas station and buy motor oil. ben adds it, waits a moment, then starts the car. As we make our way back to Bear Canyon, our car is happily soaking up the oil and purring like a kitten.

It’s still early – barely 9:00 – but we’re all a little tired from the day. I change into the nightgown I bought at Grandview… and it’s the size of a tent. I laugh and show Ben; even HE might be able to fit in it. But it’s nice and comfortable, so I join the others in curling up in our individual sleeping bags. We close off the day with our respective books or Youtube videos, and each contentedly drift off to sleep.

The Epic Road trip of Awesome Day 6: “YAY! EARTH!”

14 Saturday Oct 2017

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Thursday, August 31, 2017
I don’t notice the time, but I can hear vehicles driving down the highway. A slight breeze ruffles my hair and I burrow deeper into my sleeping bag. For some reason I can’t quite explain, I am more content than I have been in a long time, and I drift off to sleep again.
The next thing I hear is someone’s alarm. It’s 6:30 (though my phone, stuck on Pacific Time, tells me differently). Ben says he woke up at about 2:00 and saw this full complement of stars above his head, and wishes he could’ve shared that moment with Sarah. Sarah, for her part, says SHE woke up at 2:00 AM and saw those stars. I think of those drowsy contented moments with the breeze playing with my hair, and think that maybe, just maybe, we all unknowingly experienced simultaneous magic.
I stretch and we start rolling up sleeping bags and deflating our mattresses. Jenny, annoyed at being cooped up in the car all night, bounds out of the back seat and starts sniffing the area vigorously. After a quick pee and breakfast, she’s further annoyed at being put back in the car so we can load up the roof bag and search for showers. We’ve stuffed our dirty laundry into the bags that normally contain our air mattresses. The glorious foot room from yesterday is no longer available, and I hope this changes soon.
We find washrooms… but no showers.
Ben has cell reception, and he confirms the campsite lists “showers” as an amenity. We drive around the campsite in case we miss something and…
No showers.
After the long drive yesterday, there is no way we are going without showers!
We pull up alongside a couple of women – campers? – and ask if they know where there are showers. They pause (“oh, gosh!”) and consider it, before recommending a nearby campground, or possibly a truck stop in Idaho Falls. Ben rolls up the window and thanks them.
Idaho Falls looks like our best bet.
After fifteen minutes or so of driving, we locate KJ’s Travel Center and pull in to the parking lot. Ben goes inside to see if there are showers. And hallelujah! THEY HAVE SHOWERS!

We pay $7.50 per shower and are handed keys, towels and face cloths. one of us needs to wait for the fourth shower to be cleaned, and Ben says he’ll wait.

I have what I can only describe as the most amazing shower of my life. I want to stay under the spray for hours, but everyone else will be annoyed, and I’m hungry, so I turn off the water and nearly slip in the puddles my feet leave on the floor. It’s only now that I notice a mat I could have used to avoid this…

Changing in to clean, dry clothes, I shove yesterday’s clothes into my toiletry bag, pick up the towel and washcloth and make sure I’m holding the key before I let the door close behind me.

To my astonishment, I am the first one out of the showers! As the others meet me in the hall, everyone agrees that those showers were incredible! Ben notices a little room off to the side, and we’re thrilled that it contains washers and dryers! We tromp back downstairs, move the car to a better location, and four humans and one dog haul all of our dirty clothes up the stairs. Sarah gets quarters for the washer and dryer and buys soap from the little store downstairs, and we load two washers with the dirty camping clothes of four people.

While the washers spin, we go back down the stairs to locate the diner. When Jenny and I enter, you’d have thought no one had ever seen a dog before! We are stared at, but otherwise left alone to pile into a booth and order our food.

The waitress comes by and asks us if we’d like coffee. We all say “yes!” so emphatically that she asks us if we’d like a pitcher.

A pitcher of coffee!?

Yes, please!

 

Sarah holds the magical coffee karaf

 

We drink our coffee, marvel at the showers and our night under the stars, and order our food. I’m itching to try Idaho potatoes, so I order a basic breakfast with eggs, potatoes, bacon and toast. The intermittent Wifi signal brings me a notification “written” by our cat, Annie (translated by our friend Keith), stating that she’s mourned our departure and thinks we’ll NEVER come back, but is glad for all the space on the bed and the new guy who seems to come regularly for kitty scritches. I chuckle and share it with Ben.

Just before our food arrives, Ben goes upstairs with a bunch of quarters to move all of our clothes from the washers to the dryer.

Our food arrives, and we tuck in. In my opinion, the food isn’t quite as good as the coffee. It’s greasy and heavy and hits the spot, but my potatoes are all clumped together and my bacon is only warm, not hot, and definitely flabby rather than the crispy bacon I prefer.

We finish our breakfast, and Ben and I pay the bill, leaving a generous tip. It’s now time to souvenir shop!

Jenny’s struggling with this building for some reason. Either she’s discombobulated by the open space that gives way to sudden tiny pathways or she’s mad at me for last night’s “abandonment” in the car. She keeps taking me to exit doors and is seemingly disinterested in guiding, though she’s calm and collected, so I work with what I have.

There are key chains in the gift shop. I’m thrilled to find a big heavy one with a spinning centre piece showing the Idaho state flag. There are no badges for jenny’s travel blanket, so I make a mental note to order one online. Ben and Sarah try on trucker hats, laughing uproariously before each choosing one.

We climb the stairs to the laundry room, where our clothes continue to tumble around in the dryer. After a few minutes, I go downstairs to use a washroom and get Jenny some water. I’m just about to pick up her water bowl and empty out the excess water when a woman pushes open the door, sees Jenny, and lets out a shriek. I say nothing, dump the bowl into the sink, wipe it dry, and put it in my purse. The woman apologizes for her reaction. I still say nothing and leave.

Jenny’s still not taking me to the base of the stairs. There’s something blocking easy access to them, and they’re incredibly narrow and steep to begin with. We ultimately make it upstairs, where I join the others lounging on the comfy couches. We all tease each other some, wrestle a bit, then sprawl out on the couches again and tune each other and the world out for a few blessed minutes.

The dryers are done and we pry them open…

And our clothes are still soaked!

We have a brief team meeting. Our options are limited. We can either run the dryer again and hope this dries our clothes or suck it up and hope we find a dryer on the road.

It’s a quick decision. It’s pushing close to 10:00 and we really want to get to Old Faithful sooner rather than later. We load our damp clothes into the mattress bags and stuff them in the trunk, fill the car with gas, and change our riding configuration for the trip to Wyoming.

 

KJ’s Travel Center (Idaho Falls, ID) – Old Faithful

Distance: 136 Miles (219 km)

Travel Time: 2.5 Hours

 

For the first ride of any distance, I’m in the front seat. Ben is driving, while Sarah has taken up a position with Jenny and Dwight in the back. Once we’re ready to go, it’s easy to marvel at the landscape we’re leaving behind. We see more wildlife as we cross through Idaho, which continues for at least another hour from Idaho Falls. There are more Mormon temples seemingly in the middle of nowhere, and a Holy Rosary (church?) likewise situated. Once we cross from Idaho into Montana, the speed limit increases from a quick 70 miles an hour to a blistering 80 on the Interstates. We call our hosts for tonight at Grandview Campground and play phone tag due to the spotty reception Ben’s getting. We finally connect with them and let them know we’re planning a late evening checkin, and are asked to call back when we have a more solid ETA.

The scenery is gorgeous as we travel through a small corner of Montana and into Wyoming. Sarah passes out GoPicnic lunches, but we snack on them sparingly; we’re still full from breakfast. We pay the entry fee to Yellowstone National Park on the Montana side of the park, and it doesn’t take long before we’re suddenly into Wyoming. In less than 90 minutes, we’ve crossed three state lines. We see tons of wildlife. A bison stands in the middle of a field close to the highway, just hanging out and minding its business, and Ben adds that to his tally of animals seen on our trip. There’s more beautiful senery, including other geisers, that Ben and Sarah definitely want to photograph on the way back down. No complaints from me; they’ve earned these pictures!

We reach Old Faithful just after 1:30. I expect us to have to take a small hike to get out there, but instead we pull into a parking lot and travel along sidewalks to small cafes, shops, and the visitors center. We stop in a souvenir shop where I find two awesome tactile keychains (one for me and one for a friend back home) and a badge for Jenn’s blanket. I’m paying for my purchases when Sarah tells us she’s heard that Old Faithful might erupt in a few minutes! I’m afraid we’ll miss it, because (again) I’m expecting a hike and a trail, but it’s only a brief paved walk to a wodden outlook.

I’ve imagined Old Faithful for months. I’m expecting some great rushing force of water, like a reverse waterfall. But instead, I hear nothing but fellow tourists as I stand on the boardwalk.

It’s 2:16. Time for the expected eruption.

And nothing happens.

A hush falls over the crowd as a faint smell of sulphur fills the air and Old Faithful bubbles slightly.

More time passes.

Another brief scent of sulphur, another slight eruption, more silence.

As time passes, people inch away and go back to the shops and their cars. Murmurings of Old Faithful being a tease and a let-down can be heard behind me. I inch closer to the edge of the overlook just as Old Faithful, in a final show of strength, erupts.

After a 20-minute tease, Old Faithful erupts!

It’s not at all what I expect. The faint scent of sulphur is not present here. The strong powerful sounds of gushing water I expected are definitely absent as well; instead, it sounds like faint ocean waves.

After a couple of minutes, Old Faithful settles down, and many people clap and start to move away. It’s kind of weird to think about, Sarah says. It’s like everyone is congratulating earth on being earth… “YAY! Earth!” But I just HAD to get a picture with Old Faithful in the background.

Me and Jenny crouched down with a calm Old Faithful in the background

We zip inside another store for road snacks. Dwight buys a bag of grapes for $8 and Ben buys more road cheesies. I get a Gatorade and Sarah buys her snacks – we all spend a small fortune on road food.

We take our last bathroom break before piling into the car. Jenny – as she’s done all the way through this trip – finds the accessible stall without my asking her to do so. Sarah keeps telling me how impressed she’s been with Jenny on this trip, and while I can dwell on Jenn’s mistakes and missteps, I have to agree with Sarah. Jenn laps up the water I set down for her by the sink, and we’re all ready to hit the road.

Old Faithful – Grandview CampGround

Distance: 308 miles (496 km)

Travel Time: 6 hours (including stops)

 

We keep our travel configurations from this morning as we pile into the car. Ben’s got a Google map on his phone and is hopeful that he can still navigate in these areas with no cell service. Just twenty minutes out of Old Faithful, Sarah spots the geisers they wanted for pictures, and Ben pulls in.

Dwight and I stay in the car, talking. We haven’t really had an opportunity to do so on this trip, and I confess my feelings of uselessness. I’m not a seasoned camper, and Ben and Sarah seem to frequently have everything under control. Sure, I’ve rolled a sleeping bag or two, or helped set up the tent, but to me it doesn’t feel like nearly enough. Dwight offers some perspective that I desperately need – that I have been contributing, but that I need to temper my need to be needed with the practicalities that come alongside camping with experienced campers. My blindness has nothing to do with it. I’m not sure I feel any better, but I feel better for having talked about it.

Sarah and Ben come back to the car, thrilled with the pictures they’ve taken of this area. It’s called the Painted Pots. There are signs that state that you must stay out of the water; it’s so clear and so hot that you would never come out.

The Painted Pots

We’re ready to go again. Sarah and Dwight chat in the back while Ben follows the route he sees on Google maps. There’s a motorist in front of us who keeps speeding up and slowing down and speeding up and slowing down. Ben finally gets so annoyed that he takes the first available turnoff and hopes it’s the right one.

The highways are well-paved and well-maintained. We’ve driven for about half an hour before Ben thinks he made a mistake – turning left instead of right. His google map is useless up here, and he asks me for directions. I pull up Nearby Explorer, put in the address of Grandview Campground, and start giving directions (basically, keep going straight and take one turn or another).

As we travel, Dwight and Sarah nap while Ben and I chat. I talk to Ben about my feelings of inadequacy, and he’s quick to reassure me that I have pulled my weight – heck, I’m the one navigating on this leg of the journey!

The signs for Bozeman appear, and we are all tired. It’s 20 minutes to Bozeman now, and someone points this out. Dwight says that’s a perfect name for a band, and we all laugh and agree.

In Bozeman, we stop for gas. We’re getting hungry and find a burger place with a drive-through. We order massive burgers and fries, and we’re all impressed as we munch. Only Ben seems disappointed by his waffle fries (I try one and agree that my traditional fries are better). Sarah has cell reception, so she calls Grandview and tells them our ETA appears to be about 9:30. They thank her for her call and tell her they’ll see us when we get there.

As we drive through Bozeman, Ben and Sarah express a strong liking for the city. The architecture looks cool, and now I think we’re all sorry we won’t get a chance to explore it further.

Nearby Explorer continues to map our route – go straight. we pass small towns and lovely scenery as the sun sets. Even I can see the sunset filtered through the trees, with mountains in the background on either side. I’m blown away by the majestic beauty of this sunset as I munch my fries and tell Ben to continue to go straight, through county after county, past unpopulated areas or tiny hamlets.

We reach Billings. It’s a big city, too, and we all agree that tomorrow, we will go into Billings, split up for a couple hours, and do our own thing. As we leave the city limits, I start to worry about directions to Grandview. The email says GPS can sometimes be wrong, and we have no cell service to contact them if we get lost.

I worry for nothing. As we pull into Hardin, pass the gas station indicated on the email, the sign is clearly marked. We pull in to the drive at 9:00, and Ben and I get out of the car. Lori arrives just a couple minutes later and opens the office/gift shop. She’s warm and welcoming and she’s thrilled we got in earlier than we’d estimated and gives us a rundown of the campsite information. We’re given directions to the showers and our campsite, change for the laundry facilities (open 24 hours), a Wifi password, and kitty cuddles from the resident cat. We can dry our clothes! AND see kitties? With showers and wifi, we’ve hit the camping jackpot!

We get back to the car and tell Sarah and Dwight about our good fortune. We pull up to our assigned space, and the guys get to work on pitching the tent. Sarah and I haul the mattress bags full of wet clothes to the dryers. The first dryer eats Sarah’s quarter, so we have to go back to the car and get more. We move the wet clothes from one dryer to another, and I constantly drop them. Sarah and I laugh giddily as she loads the second= – hopefully functional – dryer with our clothes. They fit in one load, and the dryer takes our quarters with no fuss.

We get back to the tent, which has been completely set up. Our air mattresses are inflated and sleeping bags unrolled. Jenny is bounding around the camp site like she’s never seen such a beautiful grassy area, and I’m struck by the sound of crickets I hear. If you’ve ever seen a movie that has a night-time scene with crickets in the background, these crickets sound like that. It feels like I’m in a movie, and I’m so happy I could burst.

We check on the clothes in the dryer, and they are – miracle of miracles – all dry. We stuff them into the mattress bags again and put them in the car; we’ll take care of them in the morning.

It’s 10:00 PM, and I’m ready for sleep. I crawl into the tent and bury my face in my pillow. Jenny will not leave my side, squishing my legs under the weight of her Labrador frame. The movie-crickets sing me to a restful, contented sleep.