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Something The World Should Consider

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Big Sky to Bozeman to Big Timber and back.

May 9th – Another eight hour work day for the books. The routine of a 5/8 schedule had begun to take root in my brain, and it was nice. No extra workdays I had to scramble to cover, and several shifts had been delightfully dull. I relished the quiet times knowing the countdown of the 4/10’s had begun and the tsunami of summertime chaos lay just on the cusp of June. After work, Lauren and I decided we wanted a drink and to go a few rounds of pool. The restaurant here has a pool table on the saloon side, but as the restaurant was closed for the off-season at that time, we went to Choppers. Trevor said he’d like to tag along and so the three of us piled in my truck and headed up to Big Sky.

I don’t remember how many games we played, but I do remember losing most of the time, and maybe winning one game – only by the graciousness of Lauren and her agreement to play our games as Gentle(wo)men. But regardless of the scores and playful jeers, we had a grand time.

May 10th – When I left my grandparent’s on Monday, I knew our friends Amy and Faith McGehee had left Georgia for Faith’s summer job in Glacier. They were tentatively planning to be in Big Timber at some point that week and I wanted to get up and see them if it worked with my schedule.

I checked IG at some point that morning and saw that they had been rained out of Mount Rushmore. I jokingly asked if that would mean they’d be rushing to Big Timber. Amy responded that that would be the case and I quickly decided I’d hurry down there after work. Amy and Faith were on board to surprise Gramma and Grampa, and I planned to be at their house around 6pm.

All went according to “plan”, until I got to the ranch gate. Of course, Gramma would be going upstairs right when I was coming up. Only from there, right at the window, or outside would I have been seen. Oh well, it wasn’t a grand surprise, as intended, but they were surprised nonetheless. We had dinner and saw Amy and Faith off to bed early. They had made it to their quiet retreat before the next leg of their journey, and they were eager to rest.

I had originally planned to eat dinner there and hurry back to the ranch the same night, but as dinner and conversation went on, I made the call to stay and leave dark and early the next morning. If I left at 5 a.m., I could make it to the ranch in time to change and grab a little breakfast before my shift.

I laid in bed that night thinking a few things over. I am always amazed and grateful for the clarity being here in Montana affords me. My heart experienced a shift, and it was scary and it was liberating.

May 11th – I made it to the ranch as planned and was surprisingly alert for my entire shift. I knew I had to run back into Bozeman to find a few Mother’s Day gifts and that took up my evening. A little stroll through Heyday on mainstreet and a quick run through Walmart.

I was very eager to climb into bed that night.

May 12th – I literally don’t remember what I did this day. I most likely worked, ran up to the Post Office to send Mother’s Day presents, and then came back to hang out at the bunkhouse.

May 13th – Left work for Big Timber. Stopped in Bozeman for a Walmart run. (I can’t seem to stay away from that darn store even here. Ha.) It was sunny when I left the ranch, overcast when I arrived at the Big Sky red light (about 12 miles away), snowing on Lone Peak, raining through the canyon, and then snowing in Bozeman. I left Bozeman in a snowy mix, crested the Bozeman Pass in what this Georgia girl classifies as a blizzard, and came out of that massive and crazy storm system once I hit the White Sulphur Springs exit (about 20 miles east of Bozo on I90).

No surprise to arrive on the hill and be met with ferocious winds. With no desire to be out and about in that torrent, we nestled inside in our comfy clothes and sat on the sofa watching Hallmark movies.

May 14th – Gramma and I were up and at it early to ensure we accomplished all the chores we had to do before church. She rushed out the door around 7:30 a.m. for worship team practice, and I followed shortly to make it to the 9 a.m. service. We left service to return the ranch and a restful Mother’s Day. It was cold and still breezy and her Mother’s Day request was to work on her jewelry.

I reached the house before her and settled myself into the recliner and planned to write. But I ended up catnapping to a Hallmark movie. No judgement. You really can’t beat a good recliner and a soft blanket and a cheesy romance movie after a long workweek.

I wrote a little after that, but I mostly spent it willing my imagination to move beyond the grammatical errors jumping out at me and to forgive myself on the ridiculous dialogue I had forced on two of my characters. Then it was time for wine.

The Montana skyline was a brilliant red that night at sunset which made the Crazies almost look as if they were on fire. It was gorgeous ending to the day.

May 15th – The wind had subsided and the clouds weren’t as many as before. We brought the horses in and had our coffee. I started writing again and was soon interrupted by a video call via Snapchat from my sister. My mom’s Mother’s Day present had arrived and Laura was thoughtful and made sure I could see the joy and tears on Momma’s face. Which was perfect since I could see her falling apart and, due to her many birthdays, she couldn’t see me doing very nearly the same thing. We chatted for a while and then said our goodbyes, but not before I discovered you could video chat and change the filters on your video. We definitely had a good laugh at all the ridiculously amusing affects Snapchat lent to our appearances.

After lunch, we made use of the break in the weather and headed out for a ride out back. With a storm on its way, we decided to do a short loop in the direction of the microwave tower. When we headed out, the sun had danced in and out of the clouds keeping us warm against the wind. As we made our way home, however, the statement that “if you don’t like the weather [in Montana], wait five minutes; it will change” rang oh-so-true. It sprinkled on us the whole way back, steadily increasing in size and frequency. We had just reined up in the barn when the bottom fell out of the rain clouds and we were forced to wait for a reprieve, which luckily wasn’t too long.

Once inside, Gramma started preparing dinner and I loaded my things into my truck for the drive home. We ate and shortly after I was finished, I said my reluctant goodbyes.

I was on the highway around 7:15 p.m. and somewhere around the De Hart / Springdale exits, I hit another storm system. It was a light rain, but with the sun still shining there was just enough moisture in the air to produce a rainbow off to the south. I snapped a few pictures (carefully) and then noticed a second, much fainter, rainbow next to the first one. I’m not sure if my phone was able to catch it or not, but I did try to snap proof of it.

I continued driving along I90 and out of that rain shower, through Bozeman, and as I’m coming up on Gallatin Gateway, I glance to my left and there I see another rainbow. And yes, I (carefully) snapped another picture of the third rainbow. They certainly made up for my having to turn away from the bright and wondrous sunset in the west to the dark and ominous storm system above the canyon that would lead me home. It almost looked as if I was headed away from the grandeur and safety of the White City of Gondor and towards the cold, dark, tormented lands of Mordor with the smoke from Mount Doom rising above the mountains.

    Yes, I am a geek.

I made it home safely, (obviously), and into bed at a decent time which I was most grateful for. The next day would start another work week and another set of days to make the most of.

05.28.2017

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[veosullivan406]

God allows us to feel the frailty of human love, so we appreciate the strength of His.

C. S. Lewis

(via

myawesomequotes-com

)

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Lonestar Ranch, MT. 2017. #veophotography

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The First Week

Posted on Wordpress on May 25, 2017 by V. E. O'Sullivan

     May 1 – Carla asked that I, and the other new arrival, come to work at 10 AM to get started on our paperwork. Still being on Georgia time, I was up and about much earlier than that so I took my time getting ready and made my “check-in” calls. First to my mom, and then to my grandma: All was well. I had a friendly roommate. Everyone in the house was nice. It’s cold here. Yes, of course I miss you. How is Captain? When are you guys leaving? I’ll be there when you guys get to the ranch. Can’t wait to see you.

I started work with breakfast in the dining hall, paperwork, training, and a tour of the grounds. My workday was over at 5 p.m. and then it was back to the bunkhouse to make an evening game plan. Dinner was on my mind and a fellow roomie suggested we eat at Riverhouse. A hot meal I didn’t have to cook sounded like a winner to me so we ventured down for grilled hot wings and a corona.

       May 2nd  – It snowed on us overnight and we awoke to a heavy dusting. It was cold and the air was a bit damp which almost reminded me of home. It didn’t last beyond lunch and by the time the work day was over the big, beautiful blue sky was covering the valley like a blanket. Work was a lot of putting the training into practice and trying to remember names and all the functions of the computer programs. Nothing too difficult.

     May 3rd – Most of the snow had melted away, but there were still patches and piles of it in the shady spots. After work I walked up the forest service road to stretch my legs and breathe the Montana air. The sun was shining and made it much warmer than I had anticipated when I started out from the bunkhouse. I took my time, being content in the moment and observant of my surroundings as it is springtime and the bears are waking up hungry. That night was quiet; I had the next day off and wanted to be rested up.

     May 4th – It was a beautiful day, if only a little chilly. Which I was prepared for being May. I stopped at the dinning hall for breakfast before heading to Bozeman for lunch and tack shopping and then to Springdale to see another buddy.

The snow had been preserved better on the higher peaks and they were stunning against the blue skies and in the sunlight. I snapped a few pictures and just drove in awe and gratitude that this was now my home.

I headed for Murdoch’s Ranch and Home Supply first and spent a long while debating on which pieces of tack I wanted to buy and which pieces I actually needed. I settled on a new hackamore with mecate reins, a back strap, and a new girth. I spent too much money…. Haha. But Murdoch (my horse) was worth it, as is my time. I put off buying the back strap and the girth for a year or two too long. Salt water has a way of deteriorating the buckles.

I ate Dave’s Sushi again – I could never tire of sushi – and enjoyed their adorable patio. The day was warm and bright. I sat for a while just enjoying the moment. Bozeman in the spring is a delight to watch. The landscape is green and the view is clear. The people, who have always seemed happy to me, look especially happy and active about town. They were moseying around town in their summer attire and smiling faces. I got that sense that it was a good day not only for me, but for Bozeman. And that made me all the happier. Happy Vera in a happy place.

Afterwards, I made my way to Springdale and a project my friend would be starting when I arrived. I hadn’t been to my friend’s “neck-of-the-woods” before and driving to meet him was a plethora of mountains. The Crazies met me head-on while the Absaroka’s and the Beartooths were behind me much the same as at my grandparent’s ranch. But seeing them from another direction was breathtaking. Poor guy has to deal with such a terrible view…

We spent a while putting a mold together for a pipe, more time than I think he anticipated (we might have tried and failed the first go-round due to incorrect measurements), but it was nice to be helpful. I might have only held the measuring tape and the boards while he cut them, but as my great aunt Martha said, “many hands make light work”. On the way back from a ranch errand, we came upon a rattlesnake. Not a bad size one that met its end with branding iron. Ha.

We ate outside so I could enjoy the view, plus it was a gorgeous evening and absolutely no reason to be eating indoors. I left for home around 10 p.m. I won’t be doing that again if I’m two hours away. Learned my lesson with that late night driving in the pitch black of Montana and having to slap myself to keep my eyes from closing.

     May 5th – Scavenger hunt day for us newbies! I had so much fun getting to explore Big Sky with my new coworkers. We met several of our affiliates along the “hunt”, and after a several stops and pictures our hunt led us to Bywom for lunch with Carla and Elise. So yummy. Definitely recommend it for a nice bistro type lunch, or drinks of an evening.

On the way back, Lauren and I spotted the movie theater and it’s showings: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 and Fate of the Furious. That girl is after my own heart. It wasn’t hard to convince her to come back out of the 7:45 p.m. showing of Guardians and a drink beforehand in honor of Cinco de Mayo. She even treated me to two rounds of pool during which I was able to attempt to understand and play the game. It was a blast and a great way to end the day.

     May 6th – Grandparent’s arrival day. I packed my bags before leaving for work that morning and loaded them in the truck. I knew I wouldn’t be off in time to be there when they pulled into their house, but I knew I’d be leaving right at quitting time to hit the road. My day went by quickly and when 5 p.m. came, I was scooting out of the office and on the road. It was cold and wet that weekend. We unloaded the trailer and got the horses taken care of. Murdoch was happy to see me and my heart was even happier at that.

     May 7th – We decided to forgo church that Sunday and took care of a few more things on their list that needed done. I was there and wanted to make sure I helped as much as I could. Lunchtime came around and we headed into town to eat at the Thirsty Turtle. We were joined by a buddy who came back with us to the house for dinner and a little helpful contribution of his own.  Altogether we fetched Banjo and Koda, who had gotten out of our ranch and into the Krug’s land, and brought them back. After that was a little tidying of the porch and tacos for dinner.

     May 8th – Monday was a bit cheerier and we ran to town for a Frosty Freez milkshake as our afternoon reward.  It’s one of the best splurges I allow myself. The sun was out and warm and the wind had died down. With conditions conducive for riding, Gramma and I did a short loop around back and we took Murdoch through the Krug’s cows to give him an easy introduction into it. He was a little overwhelmed, but decidedly curious. I’m not sure if his fear or his curiosity kept him interested, but Trip was a nice confidence booster for him.

Wild asparagus grows along the irrigation ditch in tiny asparagus tree groves. All I could see – honestly – were numerous Junior Asparagus and his parents sticking up out of the ground. Thank you, Veggie Tales, for allowing me to fall in love with vegetables and fruits for completely different reasons other than their nutritional values. In addition, it was fun picking them and spending that extra time with Gramma. For dinner we prepared salmon, asparagus, and a wild rice blend. We finished off the Key lime pie we had started the night before and I said my goodbyes around 8:45 p.m.

The lights of the 320 Guest Ranch can be seen at night just as you reach Cinnamon Lodge & Adventures. My heart lifted and I couldn’t help but smile. The room in my grandparent’s house will always be “mine” to me, but driving onto the 320 that night felt like I was coming home.

05.25.2017

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[veosullivan406]

Big Timber, MT. 2017 #veophotography

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The Long Weekend

Posted on Wordpress on May 20, 2017 by V. E. O'Sullivan

     I arrived in Big Timber on the afternoon of April 27th. I spent that evening with friends, cutting up and sipping my glass of wine and finally allowing myself to relax. After rushing the week prior to my departure, it was strange to be sitting still without anything on my list screaming to get done or a destination I had to make it to by a certain time. I was in Montana and I had two and half days before the short trip to Big Sky and my new home at the 320 Ranch.

It was still rainy and overcast and cold. 37 degrees cold. I knew better than to just pack everything up in the totes. Thankfully, I had packed plenty of layers and a nice warm hoodie in my travel bag. And I needed every layer.

Driving up to Sojourner Ranch was wet and windy. The Krug’s cows were out and about and I had to navigate around them to get to the gate. Babies were everywhere sleeping and playing and staring at me in wonder. The grass was eaten down; the irrigation ditch was off; gates I didn’t know existed were shut and required hopping out to open and shut them quickly. I hadn’t been out that early in the year before, and it almost looked and felt like a different place.

I thought I would be excited to reach my grandparent’s gate… But the thought of them being back in Georgia and not on the hill waiting for me dulled my emotions. I snapped a picture and sent it to her. When I pulled through, Banjo and Koda were in the bottoms eating and raised their heads in curiosity when they heard my truck. Realizing I had come alone and without any four-legged friends, they resumed grazing.

I crested the hill and the McKenzie Flats opened up around me allowing me full visual access to the Beartooths to the south and the Crazies to north. Immediately to my right and left, however, were the buildings my grandparents built with their own hands – with the help of several Big Timber folks kind enough to lend a hand and spare some of their time. But my grandparents weren’t there. I was the one making the initial trip out, keys in hand, to open up the house and the barn. Even if it hadn’t been in the 40’s, it would have still been cold – almost uninviting. Strange how a place gains life with the presence of its tenants and loses it in their absence.

I pulled around to the back of the barn to unload my tack and rearrange my stuff with the extra room it allowed. It began to spit ran on me as I was finishing and I made my way to the house to check off my list of things to do there. It was a hesitant walk up the stairs and to the door. In times past, I’d be sprinting up the few steps and flying in the door to embrace the nearest grandparent. Not this time. It was just me there – and all the lovely birds and their droppings. I slid the key in the lock and turned it. I’d be the first one in this year.

Plastic covered the furniture and there were dead flies scattered under the windows. She’d told me what to do with those – fold the plastic and put it all in the closet; vacuum the floors – but it was a foreign place to me in that state. I set to work getting the house “opened up” and was finished relatively quickly with the plastic folding and putting away. I decided to leave the flies until the next day. Now for the outside tasks: move the benches to their designated sides of the porch. The east-, north- and west-facing sides were easy. But the south side has one larger bench and required a little extra time and maneuvering. Soon I was finished with that and headed back down to the Krug’s to relax.

I spent a long while doing nothing and letting my body rest. But as I sat and the hours passed, I was getting hungry. A quick text and I had plans to eat at The Thirsty Turtle.

I met my buddies for a “sammie” and the Thirsty Turtle’s amazing sides – fried pickles and sweet potato fries. And a vodka tonic to top it off. I don’t usually eat fried foods, but there are a few exceptions and those are at the top of my list. Especially when you dip them in their secret Cajun ranch. By the end of our meal, we had grown from three to four and we meandered over to The Grand for an additional drink. With few places to end up in Big Timber on a Friday night, our party of four grew to a lively bunch of eight. Our poor waitress had her hands full with our antics, but we kept the noise in check and had a merry time.

Word reached us of the 90’s night across the street, and with the rest of the patrons at the Grand staring in our direction of a good time, we decided to slide over to the Timber Bar. After walking in and feeling the room close in around me, I made my way back out the door to collect my nerves. I don’t care for small spaces and a big crowd. I really don’t even like big spaces and a big crowd. Too many people and things going on at once, and I end up with an uncomfortable sensory overload. Luckily, I didn’t enter that establishment alone, and I nestled in among my buddies in a spot I thought was a safe haven. One stiff squeeze on my shoulders and a foreign body against my back and I was even further in amongst my friends. Reason number 73894759589 why I hate big crowds: my personal bubble is invaded by strangers!

An honest mistake of persons on their part and any crisis was averted. I still kept my back to the bar from that point, just to be safe. We hung there for a long while. Music I’d never heard blared from the speakers and a few I thought I’d heard before played here and there. Several happy people shared a song or two with a partner on the dance floor, but the majority of the patrons gathered around the tables and the bar. We snagged an empty table at some point and used it as a people watching station. Very entertaining. Which was before I became the object of someone else’s people watching. I was convinced to “try my feet” at country swing dancing. Thankfully, I had a gracious teacher who didn’t mind repeatedly doing the move over and over again. I think I grasped the concept by the end.

Someone mentioned they had chocolate cake back at their house. It was about midnight, why not have cake? So we drove across town for chocolate frosted cake a few last laughs. A quick bite and a drink turned into an extended outing with old friends and new friends and a heck of a fun time.

I went to bed in Montana for the second night worn out and happy.

Saturday broke with a clear sky and fairly warmer temperatures than the day before. Driving up to the house was less dreary than Friday, and I took my time getting started and tried to soak up all the sunshine that I could. Vacuuming didn’t take long, and I had the whole morning to waste.  I sat on the back porch, with my coat still on, and closed my eyes in the warmth of the sun. It was fantastically quiet, save for the wind which lent a chill to the air. But I didn’t mind. I was just happy to be there, right where my feet were.

We had plans to meet up at The Fort for a trip to Billings. My buddy needed replacement saddle parts and I had asked to tag along. Even though I  traveled back the way I had just come, it was a better ride than the one I’d had on the way in. Accompanied by my friends and riding along under the clear Montana sky was invigorating. We grabbed my buddy’s saddle parts and headed over to Scheels – which was hands down the coolest sporting goods store I’ve ever been to. A little meandering around both stories of the store, we headed for home and dinner. Lonestar Pizza called our names and we order three pizzas for a good judge of their work, of course. What is pizza night without a good scary movie, right? On the way back to the house, we grabbed Sinister and settled in for a good scare.

Which I missed out on. Pretty sure I passed out about 30 minutes into the movie. Oh, well. It had been a great day with great company, but I needed the rest.

Sunday came too early for my tired self. It was another beautiful day and I had a church service to make. I gathered up all of my crap and re-loaded the truck with the things I had taken out of it: plants, travel bag, cooler, and laundry bag. I stopped at the Fort for one last cup of their coffee and headed to Big Timber Evangelical Church. I was a little late, but luckily the back row was open and I slid in an empty seat. After the service, I said hello and goodbye to surprised friends and told them my grandparents were on my heels.

Not sure if it was the Spirit moving on my heart, but I struggled to keep my composure whilst conversing. I wanted to breakdown and cry. I’ve always found it funny, and really almost perfect, that God uses the time I spend in services to really work on my walled-up heart and stifled thoughts making His presence known. It isn’t always in a church building; He moves on my heart even at any given point in my day. And I suppose He does that to everyone who chooses to come before Him, but in that instance His gentle calling was digging up more than just my adoration for Him. All the emotions I had shoved down about leaving were coming up, too. I had barely made it out of there before the tears started seeping out. I was raw and exposed and my heart was calling out for a comfort and a peace that I couldn’t conjure for myself.

Nothing a still moment in the truck with a little Phil Wickham couldn’t salve. Ha. Yeah, right. Nothing a little worship couldn’t dissolve my walls and containers any better. I’m not complaining. Who better to cry to than the One who’s always with me? It was time to let go and feel again. I backed out and headed west on I90 again.

I couldn’t go through Bozeman without having lunch at Dave’s Sushi. It was my last “vacation” treat. Once I got to the ranch, I knew I had to transition into “real life” and I wanted to end my trip with a nice treat. For any sushi lovers coming through Bozeman, from that experience and past ones, I highly recommend Dave’s and the Twin Fin, Widespread Panic, Street Taco and the Jack Sparrow rolls. Totally satisfied my sushi craving. And just like that lunch was over and it was time to hit the road again.

For the drive out I had Spotify repeating and shuffling my road trip playlist. Which had worked perfectly up until I hit Big Timber and then I was over my selections. But I had been given a series by Andy Stanley to listen to before I left, and I had forgotten up until then that I had it. I stuck disc one in of “Taking Responsibility for Your Life: Because Nobody Else Will”. Perfect, right? It couldn’t have been more perfect once he began his message and it’s a series I recommend highly.

The first disc ended a little before Big Sky, and I switched it out for disc two as carefully as I could. Andy talked me all the way to the bridge over the Gallatin river that takes you into the 320 Ranch. I pressed pause and parked in front of the office. Carla met me to show me over to my new home and I changed back into “go mode”. Time to unpack all the crap I’d transported from Dawsonville, GA to Buffalo Horn Creek Rd, Gallatin Gateway, MT. (The ranch is 15 miles south of the census-designated area of Big Sky.)

I met a few of my bunk mates, who kindly helped me with the two large and cumbersome totes strapped in the bed of my truck, and set to work unloading and putting away my clothes, shoes, bedding, and toiletries. Once I was through, I ventured back down the hallway to the kitchen where I could hear the voices of my bunk mates carrying on.

I’m an introvert by nature, but because of my prudent mother and my line of work, I’ve made it a habit to practice being an extrovert. I put on my social hat and dropped my anxieties at the door. Instantly, I could tell this bunch was going to be a blast living and working with. Each of them was welcoming and cool and nonchalant. I had come in at quitting time and they were already letting their hair down. What better way to break the newbie in than a little game of Gentleman’s Beer Pong – sans beer? I was a little rusty and I think I might have made a total of 8 cups, but it was fun and a great ice breaker.

I turned in early, happy and less anxious than I had been upon my arrival. Tomorrow was the first day of work and I was excited to begin.

05.19.2017

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[veosullivan406]

Lazy Sunday 🙌 Photo by: @elbunt #ourcamplife

[veosullivan406]

Montana / Wyoming border, April 27th, 2017.

[veosullivan406]

I said I wanted to move to Montana...

Three weeks ago today, I left Georgia with my truck packed full of my clothes, my boots, my saddle, two plants, and 2,003.8 miles ahead of me. In February, I accepted a job at the 320 Guest Ranch in Montana to work in their front office for the Summer 2017 season. Let me repeat that, I accepted a job in Montana. My childhood dream of living in Montana was a tangible reality the week before my 26th birthday.

I was overwhelmed with excitement and only a wee bit hesitant over the change. I had been praying and evaluating what accepting the position would mean for me in the weeks before I left and for the time after the work season was over. I'd have until October 15th to figure something out to allow me to stay in Montana rather than make the long trek back to Georgia. Granted, six months is a long time to spend in a place, and perhaps even before I hit the end of my tenure here, I'd be pining away for Georgia in all its splendid southern glory.

But somehow, I doubt that. I've been here three weeks and I'm already doing research on how to get an MT license and new MT tags for the truck.

I left dark and early at 4:00 AM on Wednesday, April 26th. Mom and Captain saw me off with a few tears and a hearty embrace. I had my GPS set for Sioux City, IA and plenty of snacks prepared so I could drive as far as I could only stopping to refuel. I knew leaving would be hard; actually those last few days before my departure were pretty emotional. I hadn't anticipated the outpouring of love and support from my family, friends, and members of the gym I'd worked at for six and a half years.

I did great driving until I hit Chattanooga and had to pull over to keep from falling asleep. One of the reasons I left in the early morning hours was so that I wouldn't fall asleep. But that monotonous drive after Chattanooga had lulled me to the point where my eyes crossed a few more times than I was comfortable with. I had to pull over and get a good stretch in before I continued on the road. I covered the edge of Georgia, Tennessee, Kentucky, and Illinois with decent time. Missouri, however, was long and wet. Once I passed under the Arch in St. Louis and rounded the city it was nothing but rain until Kansas City.  Cruise control was certainly my best friend on that leg of the trip. I grabbed dinner at Zoe's Kitchen in Kansas City, MO and turned northward to Sioux City, IA.

I29 is another long and monotonous stretch of highway that tested my patience. It was also turning cold and I was ready to be done driving. I did have one hiccup; Council Bluffs sent me the rest of the way to Sioux City with a speeding ticket. Thank you to the friendly, helpful, and understanding police officer who only wrote I was going 10 over in a construction zone... Whoops. There's a first time for everything, right?

Sioux City was in my sights after that and so was a lovely Airbnb room I had booked with intentions of a shower and an early bedtime. I was mindful of every speed limit sign after that - even more so than I was before - but kept the odometer cruising right along at the fastest I dared set it. I arrived a little after dark and knocked on the host's door around 8:30 PM. I was done with the first half of my journey; I'd be in Montana the next day. I set my alarm for 3:15 AM and was able to shut my brain off well enough to sleep soon after I slid under the sheets.

As well as I slept that night, my brain still rebooted around 3:00 AM and I was able to get dressed - more warmly than the day before - and get packed up and headed out at 3:58 AM. I have nothing against Iowa, but I wasn't upset about having to drive the remainder of the state in the dark. I kinda feel like I was able to get the gist of it from the day before. Sioux Falls, South Dakota was a happy juncture. Iowa may be directionally west of Georgia, but not as west as South Dakota felt. I left I29 and turned left onto I90 around 5:30 AM. I was on the direct route to Montana. I might have shed a tear. Which I quickly wiped away to focus on the drive. South Dakota welcomed me with a nice, stiff, constant headwind. Goodbye good fuel mileage, but hello the wide-open spaces of the West.

Sunrise greeted me from behind and lit my way to Mitchell where I stopped to fill up. I had the first real taste of the dry, western air at that point, which was also quite cool. I had left 70 degree weather back in Georgia and was headed straight into 40-something degree temperatures of late April in South Dakota and beyond. Despite the shock of it, I was actually pleased to feel the chill. It was familiar, and I had missed it.

South Dakota also felt a little repetitious. But not in the ways Missouri and Iowa had felt. It didn't bother me; the land would soon rise and fall in buttes and plateaus, and then rise and rise into mountains. Soon, the Wall Drug store signs began springing up, and all kinds of childhood memories came back to me. Backseat views of passing prairies listening to my walk-man, mom reading James Herriot with charismatic fervor in the front seat, and trying to spy John Dunbar's horse in the corral at the Wild West town were a few memories that came back to me in wonderful waves.

Something more climactic happens when you reach Chamberlain, SD and you begin the decent to the Missouri River crossing. I remember from all our treks across the country from Georgia to Montana that at that river crossing we knew we were in the west. After that point, the landscape begins to change dramatically and the realization of being in the homestretch really sets in. I'll admit to pulling over and letting a small flood of tears stream down my face. Tolkien's quote "Home is behind, the world ahead" came to the forefront of my thoughts. Here I was on the threshold of my childhood paradise which had become the home of my late 20's. Every mile beyond that point brought me increasing joy.

I had great weather leaving Sioux City even though it was chilly and a bit windy. I admired the Badlands from afar - poor planning on my part meant I had to stay on I90 instead of taking 240 through them - and made a pit-stop in Wall, SD. Rapid City, Sturgis, and Spearfish still had remnants of snow in some places - more so in Spearfish. Filling up there was brief to say the least. I also stopped at a two pump station with a casino in it. I didn't linger there long. From Spearfish I headed north to Belle Fourche so I could take 212 into Wyoming and on to Montana.

I hit the WY state line at 11:19 AM and the MT state line just after that. I most definitely cried tears of joy and a bit of disbelief. I had finally made it to Montana. I updated everyone of my progress, as had been my habit the entire trip. Of course I still had about five hours until I reached Big Timber, but all the responses were excited and congratulatory. Their support and encouragement was still strong and welcomed.

212 is a nice drive with plenty of wide vistas and a variety of landscape. It cuts off 100 miles of the journey, but consequently adds an hour to your trip time. Perhaps if it hadn't been raining, I would have enjoyed the drive more. But once I hit Broadus, the sun went AWOL and I was escorted by clouds until Ashland where they decided to pour rain on me.

I cannot say the drive from Ashland to Billings was enjoyable in the least. Mostly due to the rain and the actions of my fellow drivers - mainly the truck drivers. If I weren't dealing with the spray they kicked up from the road which sent my windshield wipers into a frantic tizzy, I was having them fly up and then ride my rear bumper because of another slow car in front of me - or, in several cases, another semi! I don't think I experienced a more stressful stretch of my journey as that one. Sure, I could have passed the slow vehicle...but no one thought putting their headlights on was a prudent choice in the pouring rain. Numerous cars surprised me when they came past the semi and then past me. Passing the slow poke was a no-go. I was not going to play blind chicken with any oncoming cars.

I90 came up fast after Busby. If I had been more aware, I might have ventured over the Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument, but I was past it before I even knew it was there. Plus, it was still raining and I was running out of travel enthusiasm steam. I just wanted to reach Big Timber and get out of my truck. The rain was not helping either. I wanted to see Montana on my drive in and the dratted rain was forcing me to focus only on the road. All I could see was a 360 degree wall. No rolling prairie. No mountains.  I struggled to even see Billings when I crossed the Yellowstone - which was roaring with all the runoff. So I suppose that was an exciting sight. But I was still venting and pouting to family and friends that I was travelling in the rain.

I had to shut up and switch gears when I reached Columbus though. God hadn't forsaken me in any part of my journey, and He didn't fail me then. He parted the clouds over the Beartooths and my heart soared. They were standing off in the distance in all their magnificence and covered in more snow than I had yet seen on them. All the driving, shifting in my seat, hair-pulling traffic, aggravating drivers, energy drinks, early mornings, and each fuel stop made that view so worth it. And I knew from Columbus on would be a build up of excitement. Big Timber and the Crazies and my grandparent's ranch was only a short forty-five minutes away.

It spit rain on me here and there for the remaining forty miles or so, which I was thankful for as I reminded myself that it was washing the bug guts off the truck. But rounding that last curve before the first Big Timber exit, the Crazies met my gaze in all their snow-capped splendor and I was actually bouncing up and down in my seat with joy. Carefully, of course.

I turned off the interstate and headed towards the Fort to fill up with fuel. I notified my friends and family and social media outlets that I had made it to Point B - Big Timber, the long weekend stop before heading to Point C, Big Sky. I grabbed a bottle of wine and hit up my buddies. I sat in on what was supposed to be their band practice but it turned into a social catch-up. A lot of laughs later, I said goodnight, and made my way to bed. I fell asleep with the absolute delighted thought that I was finally in Montana and my solo adventure was just beginning.

V

05.17.2017

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