I spent Tuesday morning writing in the Hampton Inn in Missoula, then hit the road before noon. It was a beautiful day to drive through one of the most gorgeous places in the whole world.
btw, the HD flat screen television in the Hampton Inn in Missoula was truly, madly, deeply fabulous.
Was “Truly, Madly, Deeply” a book or a movie or both?
I watched a repeat of the last 10 minutes of the Nebraska-Wisconsin game, part of a movie (“Elizabethtown”) and then part of another HBO movie, a British romance with a drunken hero, then fell asleep.
Tuesday morning I watched the last part of an episode of River Monsters, which I’d never seen before. The fisherman host goes around trying to catch big horrible fish around the world, I guess, because he was trying to catch some sort of mean monster killer fish in a river in the Congo. He finally caught it and it had teeth like a crocodile and was vicious and ugly and HUGE. Then the Congo native couldn’t believe the tv guy was planning to let the fish go!! They don’t believe in “catch and release” in the Congo, you see, because the poor kid explained to the tv guy that the whole village was planning a party, a big feast, and everyone had been preparing all day because actually seeing one of these fish is A REALLY BIG DEAL.
The tv guy pontificated on how he doesn’t believe in eating the river monsters he hooks on his fishing line, no matter how many people (even the ones who have been helping him for days) are looking for something to eat.
Idiot. I screamed, “FEED YOUR HOSTS, THANK THEM FOR BEING SO NICE TO YOU, EAT THE DAMN FISH!!”
And while he’s going on and on about how he wants to let the fish live because, blah, blah, blah, the fish *dies*. So, as he pompously states, “the decision has been taken out of our hands”.
I then packed up my computer and headed west.
I veered off the interstate into Butte, just because I’d never stopped in Butte. The GPS makes exploring really easy. I stopped at a store downtown that was piled high with vintage outfits, shoes, fabric, hats, etc. Heaven. (No, I didn’t buy anything, but loved looking).
Back on the road with a Wendy’s chicken sandwich and a diet Coke.
Bozeman is always trendy and western and full of tourists and students. I drove south of town to wander through an antique shop. Didn’t buy anything, but it was a good way to talk a walk and look through an entire shelf (a very long shelf) of fishing books.
On to downtown, to a vintage western boots & clothing store on the main street. I tried on some fancy old patent leather Tony Lama’s, but they were too big. Darn!
So…on to Billings to meet Banjo Man. If you’ve never driven I-80 from Bozeman to Billings, then get in a car next year and do it. Don’t forget your camera. I took these while I was driving.
Banjo Man and I belatedly celebrated our wedding anniversary at a “rib and chop house” behind the hotel. I wolfed down my first filet in a year. Plus creme brulee for dessert. Be still my heart. Banjo Man was a little more restrained with a half order of baby back ribs.
I told him all about the River Monster. We agreed to never get on a boat in the Congo River.