Montana was a welcome sight. It being Monday I was concerned that I might not make it to Seattle by Friday, for some reason or another, so I felt I better move.
I flew through all the little highway towns in eastern Montana, and set my sights on Bozeman for dinner. There was a CB (See Part Two Eyes) there, and I wanted to take advantage. I got the Wholesome Breakfast, which included an array of exciting things such as yogurt, fresh fruit, eggs, bacon, toast, granola, and nuts. A surprising menu option for CB, to be sure. I was delighted.
It took a shockingly long time. Perhaps they had to massage the eggs out of the chickens. I don't know. But when I got back on the road, I decided that it was time to head into the woods for sleep.
Unfortunately, I wouldn't end up finding a place to sleep for another six or seven hours. Towards the end, I called and talked to Sarah for a while, and missed the exit for the forest road I had planned on using for a bed that night. She helped me find a place to crash for the night. It was a funny conversation that went something like this, as she looked over the Google Map, and I drove.
Me: Do you see anything north of town?
Sarah: No. Nothing.
Me: Crap. How about to the south?
Sarah: Yes, a number of subdivisions, schools, parks, and stuff like that. That might work.
Me: Hold on. I think there's some confusion. We are looking for the pale gray roads that end in nothing with nothing around. Is that what it is like to the north?
Sarah: Hm... Yes. Not much up there. Hold on, I see really small road with nothing on it...
It was beautiful. Five miles north of the highway, and just past a wooden one-lane bridge, there was a little dip in the road, and a rutted muddy pullout on the left. I parked, crawled into the back, and after an hour of tossing and turning, fell asleep. Good job, Sarah!
I woke at six, read for an hour (The Wise Man's Fear!!), and got back on the highway.
Dawn at the campground.
I made it ten miles before my exhaust system detached itself from the engine. The roar was unbelievable, as the limit in Montana is 75, and I was going an easy 80.
I pulled over at the next exit, and checked it out. Yep. Broken off at the header pipe, just distal to the manifold. I couldn't fix it, either. It wouldn't take a clamp. It was a new part or nothing. But it occurred to me that I might be able to get it welded, if I couldn't find the part. Someone in town had to have a MIG.
I surveyed.
I was in a little town. Maybe a thousand or two people. I found my way to the auto parts shop, and saw that they didn't open for a couple of hours. I figured, they aren't going to have the part, anyway, so I might as well make myself comfortable. I could be here for a couple of days. So I grabbed my book, and walked around. I found a yoga studio that would be doing a couple of classes a day for the next few days, which I thought would be a great way to spend some time. I tried not to worry that I would miss the wedding, but truthfully, I did.
I had some eggs at a little cafe that had one long table in the center of the room, and three tables for two along the side. I parked in one of the side tables, and watched as people came in and out, sat next to their neighbors, peeked glances at the weird guy in the corner at their cafe at 715 in the morning, and complained and gossiped like you do. It was fun, and I got to talking to a couple of people there about nothing in particular.
I asked around about a welding shop, and they said Cliff's was the place to go. I thought Cliff might be doing jobs out of his house, from the way they talked about it.
The parts store opened up, and I found out that they didn't have the part, though they could order it, and it would be two days. Hm. Well, that would still leave me with enough time to get to the wedding. However, the truck could still drive, and I might just drive it, noisy as hell, all the way to Butte, where the part would be coming from anyway. But I asked about a good welder. They also recommended Cliff.
I made my way to Cliff's place. It was actually a great little shop. Three lifts, two mechanics, and a manager/receptionist. They didn't have the part, but said they could weld it. How much?
Seventy bucks? he said.
Yeah, alright, I said.
I asked if I could borrow a shield and watch, and the guy said, sure. It was fun hanging out in the shop, checking out all the work being done, chatting with the ranchers who were also milling around the shop, watching their v8's get worked. He brushed the metal clean, and welded the crap out of it. It ended up being pretty ugly.
But a week later, and a thousand miles more mileage, and it's still held.
I tipped him, and jumped into my truck, with Missoula in my cross hairs.
You see, Missoula also had a CB, as I could see with my handy CB map. I ended up making there for an early lunch. Again, the Wholesome Breakfast! I noted, as I had in the last Montana CB, that the people here were much less judgmental in their looks, and stared less. They also had less metal crap hanging from them, less makeup, not as old, looked like they worked with their hands, etc. As different as I looked, I felt as much at home there as I've felt anywhere. It's dangerous to compare the cultures of entire states based on the differences in their country food restaurants, even within the same chain, but I did anyway. I was happy to be in Montana.
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