I want to keep saying that we're in Missouri. But we're not in Missouri, we're on the Missouri. Dad and I are currently in a town called Fort Benton on the Missouri Breaks in Montana.
Rain and hail, complete with thunder and lightning, followed up practically the whole day, right up until we pulled into town. We were in our car most of the day so it wasn't that big of an inconveince, plus I got to wear my new hoodie without feeling slightly silly. Or, no more silly than being an adult in a hoodie should feel, I mean.
It's like most of these small towns, it's got one main drag and a few larger buildings and single story homes fanning out from it, until it eventually dissolves into farmland. And, like most of these towns, the main drag is lined with bars like relics from the old west.
It's got a river, it has a bunch of great looking buildings, and it also has the best hotel we've stayed in to date. It's a welcome change of pace from the gauntlet of sad-looking people and ugly decor, which seems to be most of the people who live highway adjacent.
I think the universe, or possibly just the collective chi of Montana wanted us to be here. We booked the last room in a restored hotel called the "Grand Union" that just happens to be the destination of a bunch of clas
And I use the term "classic" in the same way that some music is classic. I mean that these cares are almost 90 years old. These cars predate air conditioning, dashboard radios, penicilin, and racial integration and these crazy bastards drove these things hundreds of miles in the dust and the rain to. . . I don't know, prove that they are incredibly awesome, I guess.
High Point: We actually managed to find an old back bar. My dad thinks that it might be a "Mont Oro," whatever the hell that is.
It's in a disused building that's for sale for three-hundred grand, which, despite being in Middle-of-Nowhere, Montana and sharing the main boulevard with one or two completely abandoned buildungs, it still completely insane. In Pasadena, a building like that would cost a million dollars, easily and it'd be torn down and turned into a condo almost instantly.
We then talked to an elderly lady while her husband waited in their Buick. The license plate on the car read "IwoJima" and that is my favorite thing in the entire world, I think.
Low Point: While driving down from the mountains, I started noticing white stuff off of the side of the road. I couldn't figure out what it was and I just about figured it was sand until my dad told me. As it turns out, it was snow.
Waldoism of the Day: There is no Waldoism of the Day. I can't remember anything. More on this later.