BACKROAD DRIVE - ISMAY TO FALLON
The usual motel offerings -Styrofoam plates, bending dangerously, as did the forks, scrambled eggs held and held and held in a warmer – only non-dairy creamer for the weak coffee. A busload of senior citizens shuffling around and making a run on bananas. TV tuned to the Weather Channel.
Backtracked to Ismay for a scenic gravel road loop. …5 hours of it. Looking for those endless plains of grass to the horizon. Instead, the land is hilly , even craggy, with broad fields inbetween, but hardly to the horizon…a disappointment Only for a few 1/2 mile interludes on our trip have we seen horizon to horizon grassland . Perhaps we need to be farther north
On our route along the Yellowstone River and railroad we felt the West. Lots of pasturage and black angus, some hay and wheat - and we think barley - antelope in abundance and birds of many kinds, including what we think was an eagle. Jerusalem artichokes lining the road.
In the ghost town of Mildred (these towns named for the RR track layers’ family) the small wood “homes” collapsing – not so for the brick bank – looking substantial and unfaltering. The church appears to have been in operation later than the 1930’s when the homesteaders left. But it is now abandoned – and left open. The kitchen in the basement looks staged , implying instant abandonment -like a Pompeian tragedy.
We found what we hoped would be the perfect local place for lunch. In a so-called town – with a cluster of houses and a leather repair shop. The Lazy JD Bar had all the personality you could ask for – but the food was lackluster, chicken-fried steak sandwiches may have been overreaching….although the nicely margerined and toasted sandwich buns were a plus. The 8 locals in there gave us some insight into the Montana year - “what a change in the barley this week!” “yeh but the grasshoppers are here – winter wheat should be fine, but I worry about the spring crop” –“at least we got a lot of rain, so the hayin’ is good”
all intoned with a trace of Minnesota o’s and interjected with some jahs. TV tuned to CNN.
Lewis and Clark plodding along, the travails never cease, getting into Shoshonean territory in the foothills of Rockies – the bountiful meat supply dwindling and hoping Indian woman, Sakacaweh(?) in party will help them trade for horses to get over the Continental Divide to the source of the Columbia.
Also began Willa Cather’s “My Antonia” which Mott downloaded onto the IPod from his local library – ( technology amazing). An elegiac story of an immigrant family from Bohemia starting from scratch, including the language, on the barren Nebraska plain. Land hustlers and shysters abound, the goodness of people is the hope for survival.
To Laurel, MT (passed by the city Billings to this small town) for the night, a Best Western -the only motel - where the receptionist was just sure we would love DJS Palace Bowling Alley –“ a really good steakhouse she continued…really the only place in town. Why…not one person that stays here has a single complaint, well maybe one lady said there weren’t enough tomatoes in her salad. ..and I said to her, ‘why didn’t you ask for more?’”
We went, we ate, and weren’t very impressed – except for the wedge of iceberg salad – that I laughed at -“fresh-cut daily” emblazoned on menu. And the waiter said “we buy it fresh every day.” And I laughed some more. But you know….embellished with a little tomato, crumbled bacon, and crunchy housemade onion “hangers” - it was great!!
Fox News report 4 of 6
Mozz. Stix 4 of 6 unless Mozz wheels count – then we have 5, I think I’ll add them
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