Eastward Bound

Only four children came to the August library performance, and three of those came because I talked to them in the park the night before.  With only 274 people in the village and many of those on vacation, that was fine. 

Then it was Lincoln, Montana for a second performance and after that my final drive over the Great Divide.  Cool weather has come to the west so there were no car problems.

I drove through incredible scenery until I finally got tired at Wilsall.  I went to the grocery store and asked about camping.  Go to the motel the clerk told me. 

I don't want a motel, I said.

You can camp there, she said, and called ahead.  That's how I wound up at Fort Wilsall Motel, which is not historic, it just looks like a fort, with a wooden stake fence surrounding several small log units.  I could stay in one of them, rent a tepee, or just throw up my own tent.  I opted for the tent. 

What was amazing was the bath house.  Here was a shower, a flush toilet, running water all in a big room.  Here were the nicest toilet facilities I had in the trip.  The shower's floor was made up of slabs of rock.

I ate ate supper at the local bar.  In these small towns, the restaurants are fabulous.  Gary thought there might be trout considering all the fishing that goes on in these parts, but no, just the usual cod.  Still good.

I slept well with no rooster to slay.  The mosquitoes are horrendous in these parts, but none entered my tent.  This morning I watched tree swallows feed their offspring in one was supposed to be a bluebird house.  The youngsters made a racket and they vied for the tasty mosquitoes their parents brought.  Tree swallows are about the best mosquito preventative there is.

So now I am going eastward.   I will camp once more in the Gallatin National Forest, as I did so many years ago.  I am feeling euphoric as I get closer to home, but there is the sadness of knowing that by tomorrow, the white capped mountains will be behind me.  When will I see them again?