Mountain Goat

Sunday afternoon we got off the interstate for a polarizing filter (“you don’t have a polarizing filter”, “uh no Dave, I don’t.”) and to get out of the truck for more than five minutes. Bismarck North Dakota on a Sunday is an exercise in futility. We did not get out of the truck for more than five minutes. We got gas. And filled up the truck. Nothing else was open. Well, nothing we wanted was open anyway.
That allowed me a less severe recalculation of THE SCHEDULE, but I still didn’t have a filter.
We got on US 83 north out of Bismarck and settled back in to the drive. US 83 runs the Missouri River until it crosses Lake Sakakawea. And after 20 hours of flat and dry, we decided to stick to it. We turned west on to ND state road 37 and followed the river west. Near the Montana border, and near the 24 hour mark we decided to call it quits and get some real sleep.
Lewis and Clark State Park sits on the Missouri River. It’s a nice little campground and not much more. We got a campsite and set up our tents. Dave boiled a dozen eggs to snack on for the next few days, and I wanted a shower. I still smelled like a parade. I didn’t know then just how good of an idea that was, my next shower would be Thursday night after four days of hard hiking. Dave didn’t shower.
We had two small tents and one campsite. The park ranger came down to our site, the only one used of the 20 or so on that arm of the campground and told us we had to pay for another site because we had two tents. I believe Dave’s response was something like, “you’re shitting me.” But we paid for the extra site. I can’t help but wonder if we had looked more like anyone else in North Dakota if they would’ve charged us.
Dave said he was going to stretch out for a while and then we could get some sunset shots. I said that sounded good. We had been in the truck for a full day, and while it’s a comfortable truck, your butt still gets numb and your back needs popped. That was about 7:00 pm.
At 3:00 am my eyes popped open and it took me a minute to figure out what happened. It’s dark, I’m in a tent, and it’s great. Then this deep guttural voice comes through the tent wall. “Ken, you awake.”
“Dave, yes”
“You want to go?”
“Let’s go.”
At 3:15 am, Dave and I are leaving Lewis and Clark State Park.
Ten minutes later we are in the town of Williston North Dakota. The two of us driving slow and steady down the streets of a small town at 3:30 in the morning. If the cops had seen us, our trip would’ve ended right there. Instead we stopped at the the VP. Village Pantrys and the like are a blessing and curse to the road people. Blessing because it’s all right there and it’s open, 24-7. Curse because they have what you need, and for that small bottle of Advil, you’ll pay the Gross National Product of Uruguay (but you can get a 148 ounce slurpie for 59 cents).
Dave bought a two liter of Mountain Dew for three bucks, from a guy named Fritch.
I will bet money Fritch had his finger on the alarm button the whole time we were there. I look strange, but Dave enjoys freaking people out, and at that hour, in that place, with a guy named Fritch, that wasn’t hard. That became the phrase of the day. “I bought a three dollar Mountain Dew from a guy named Fritch.” And the day got better.
They call Montana Big Sky Country. That’s stupid, it the same sky you get everywhere else. But it isn’t. The sun came up about the time we got to Wolf Point Montana. The gentle roll gets better so gradually that you really don’t notice. But that early morning sun hits the land at just the right angle to give the land an incredible depth and texture. It’s beautiful.
Dave and I pulled over onto a little dirt track off of US 2 just to get a couple of shots of that early morning sun, we didn’t stay long, Dave’s head was covered in mosquitos in a matter of seconds. But it was great.
Montana is a big state. But it’s amazing how much shorter your day of driving seems when it starts at 3:15 in the morning. We were rolling along through the hundred dinky towns that populate US 2 and the constant speed changes. Montana had no speed limit during daylight hours but the towns all had 25 mph speed limits. But that was OK. Even the ever present road work was OK. The winters are long and severe in that part of the country so the three months of summer means road work.