Keep Missoula Weird

August 29, 2011

We rolled into Kellog, Idaho around 2am yesterday. I’d been going in and out of sleep for some time when we decided to call it a day. Spending money on a motel or KOA seemed worthless, so we’d just sleep in the car.  As it was so late, or early, we couldn’t see much of anything in the darkness so we found an apartment complex and settled into our seats. Brandon with his elephant pillow pet and I with my Harry Potter quilt, it didn’t take long until we were oblivious to the world.

We woke around 7:30am and despite it only having been a night’s sleep of five hours, it seemed enough for us. We were ready to get to our original first destination, Missoula, MT. We sat up in our seats and, what do ya know? We were completely encircled by rolling hills and mountains, of sorts. It was beautiful, and a nice view for fresh eyes. Driving through town, in search of a gas station and mini-mart, we discovered a ski lift that cut right through town and a large ski and athletic center. I’d never seen anything like it. I’m sure if I knew how to ski or snowboard, I would have been home. After changing and Brandon showering in the gas station bathroom sink, we got back on the highway, a few hours from Missoula.

We entered Missoula in a new time zone at 11:30am and found their downtown area with little difficulty after taking the wrong exit. We found a delightful park to eat breakfast in (pictured) and then we went through to their Sunday Farmers Market, which also turned out to be the morning set-up of a special fair of theirs. Live music from several stages filled the streets and we wondered for hours. We checked out tiny shops, parks and got lost a time or two. It was a wonderful town and I was in love instantly. I didn’t want to leave. We drove through the University of Montana’s campus and I could imagine myself walking through on my way to class. I have it bad for Missoula. We also checked out a store that was suggested by a few of the locals called Rockin’ Rudys. If I didn’t have a reason to love Missoula before, I did now. It was massive, impressive and filled with amazing, bizarre things. Brandon bought quite a few stickers for his cargo box on his car (my favorite being “Mis[soul]a”) and I bought another shot glass for my growing collection.

We left Missoula sooner than I’d wanted to. Of course, as I said before, I never wanted to leave so I guess it had to come some time. Our next destination: Mount Rushmore. We drove for hours. Many, many hours. Montana, why do you have to be so huge? It felt we were never going to get out of Montana. It was a beautiful state, but we were ready for a change of scenery (as if Wyoming would be any different?). We saw the sign for the Little Big Horn battle and remembered we’d wanted to stop there. The only problem? It was way too early to stop and sleep. It might surprise you, but you have to actually be pretty tired to sleep in the car willingly and peacefully. So, 11pm was like 8pm. We sat in the car for a long while in a parking lot next to an old folks home in a town that I don’t think of us even bothered to remember the name of. We had the windows down until I said something along the lines of, “Brandon, if we have the windows down someone can just reach in and stab our eyes out.” I don’t know, something like that. The windows went up and then the heat rose. It was unbearable. 

“On a scale of 1-10 of tiredness, I’m a two,” I said.

“I’m a three,” he said.

So there it was. He started the car and we were off again. We’d decided to drive the remaining 15 miles to Little Big Horn. Maybe drive up to it, check it out, see if it was worth the $25 entry fee. Alas, we couldn’t reach it. We ended up driving around the town, if you could really call it that. A casino, police station, gas station and community center/community college that looked like a rest stop restroom building could hardly be called a town. We sat in the parking lot of the college (thing) until 1:09am, when we looked up pictures of LBH and called it good. We weren’t tired, we weren’t sleeping in a town infested with crickets and several dogs wondering the streets. And, by the way, a police station equipped like one in Portland. For a town smaller than Tygh Valley? No thanks, we’d pass. (Never heard of Tygh Valley? That just helps my point.)

So, we hit the road again. My Chemical Romance (the Black Parade) being the music of choice. And guess what? By 1:20am I was falling asleep.

Enjoy every minute,

Mary.

 

 In Kellog

 Where we decided to have lunch -->

 <--- Where I wrote yesterdays blog.

 This is in Missoula. They have prints all over but the only prints side by side are those of the human and the dog.

 We totally cheated and took this when we entered Wyoming. We just turned around and took a picture of that.

 Karen (Our Australian GPS guide) took us here when trying to get us back on the main road. Oh yeah, lets just go through that tunnel. .... Which, I got out of the car and did, by the way. Brandon watched as I sunk into about five inches of mud and then as I was outside of the car cleaning my feet, two dogs started charging the car, howling and barking.
Fuckin' Karen.