Destination: Missoula Montana

I leave my place at 530. It's dark with a suggestion of dawn. The stars and planets are bright. Heading through town for the border I see the morning masochists out for their runs. It's dark, it's early. I just want to go back to sleep but I have a long way to go. Destination? Missoula Montana.

To get there I have to pass through Washington, Idaho, and then into Montana. So it's I-5 south to 405, then south on 405 to I-90 east. I hit the 405 at 830 and come to a dead stop.

It will be 930 before I finally crawl the 14 miles to the I-90 interchange. From there it's smooth, and easy in brilliant sunshine all the way through Steven's Pass and into eastern Washington.

And then it gets weird. I drive through badlands full of windfarms, scrubgrass, and snakes. Yes, snakes! I had stopped for a few minutes at a rest stop to close my eyes for five minutes, and just as I'm drifting off a woman screeches about a rattlesnake in the grass. There goes my nap. And my courage to get out of the car. No I did not get a picture of the snake. Those who know me are fully aware of my habit of running away screaming like a little girl at anything remotely snake related. I am pure of heart, and all people who are pure of heart are terrified of legless creatures. Seriously. Remember this for when I get to Florida. There will be more.

The wind farms are cool to watch.

Further east I cross the mighty Columbia River on it's path to the sea. Just across the bridge I see a sign that says “Wild Horse Monument” with no explanation, just an exit sign. So me being curious about horse things lately I follow the driveway, and on the hill see a marvellous bit of public art. There is still no explanation of the work or it's artist at the viewing area.

And the view below the hill is a great look at the size of the Columbia.

I am just about to get back on the Interstate and the car makes a very loud grinding noise. I am suddenly panicked, not a normal thing for me to do, I rarely panic. (unless there's a snake involved and then all bets are off) At least I think it's the car because the car is also shaking, but I am very wrong. Very, very wrong. I have just been buzzed by a jet fighter. I catch only a glimpse in my side mirror as it drops below the hill I'm on, and follows the river, at an altitude I am sure the pilot thinks is safe. But anytime I can look down on a plane from standing on a medium sized hill, and he's hugging a river? I think he was a touch low, but he was kind enough to be gone very quickly so I could actually hear there was nothing wrong with the car. Getting through the adrenaline rush was another story.

As I pushed further east on I-90 the landscape changes substantially.

It got really boring, and flat, and monotone in color.

I was losing my mind on this road. I swear to you this stretch of highway makes Saskatchewan look great. Really. This highway was so boring I changed lanes every five minutes just to relieve the boredom and to give my mind something to focus on. I tried all the usual mental tricks I learned over the years to keep myself sane on long road trips. I sang to the i-pod music. Everything from ABBA to Natalie Cole, from Etta James to Kenny Chesney. I mentally tried to organise my closet, and my desk drawers, and to try and remember the most comfortable pair of shoes I ever owned. I almost got so desperate as to rate all the girls I've ever dated as to who was the best kisser. But I stopped just short of that because it's in these truly desperate moments that I realise I have started to totally lose what little breadcrumb of sanity remains. So I pull in at a rest stop, tend to nature, and stretch a lot. To top it off it's only just past noon. I still have over five more hours to go. I groan inwardly, and loudly, as I leave the rest stop and pray to the universe to get me through this quickly. I am dreading the Kansas leg of the trip.

I suddenly realise I haven't eaten all day. Much of my mental issues must be borne of hunger, and blood sugar issues. Right? Not really, the road is still flat, and straight.

I stop in a place called Ritzville. The highway sign that shows "services" had a Starbucks sign, so I'm thinking a nice Venti Awake tea and a fruit and cheese plate would hit the spot. They have the tea but not the fruit and cheese. There's a McDonalds next door so I slowly chew my way through a cheeseburger, all the while really wanting something better.

Just west of Spokane as I pass into Spokane County the countryside changes. More green trees, there are some hills, and the atmosphere gets a touch unfriendly. There are bears everywhere. Kojaks with Kodaks on the right, then a mile further down on the left, then another mile along in the median hidden by tall grass. They were thicker than peanut butter in a JIF commercial!

I pass through Spokane without incident, and pass into Idaho quietly. Cour D'Alene is quite pretty, at least the bits I can see from the road. I stop for fuel in the hamlet of Kellogg Idaho. I call it a hamlet but it's big enough for a McDonalds.

Western Montana sneaks up on you. There's no sign that says “Welcome to Montana”. There's also no sign about moving into a new time zone either. Those things aside I really like this part of Montana. I don't like coming across a pickup with Alberta plates who drives like every other Albertan I've had to contend with in the mountains this year. Ten miles an hour under the limit. I think the corners and twisty roads confuse them. On a work trip to Kaslo and Cranbrook this year I had the same problem When you're getting passed by semi's and other large trucks you would think they would notice something was wrong with their driving?

I finally make Missoula around 530 Pacific or 630 Mountain time. I never programmed the hotel address into the GPS so I actually drove ten miles too far east and had to backtrack. It's a Days Inn. Free breakfast included.

I ask the desk clerk where I can get a nice steak. It's Montana, they grow them here, and I want to try one. She suggests a place about six miles north on State Road 83. It's called the Buck Snort Tavern. You can imagine the decor, it isn't hard.

So I have the ribeye with baked potato and daily vegetable, broccoli. The steak is flavourful and tender in a “cut it with a fork” kind of way. It's also generously “marbled”, which is to say a thick bit of fat around the edges and through the middle. The potato is great, and the broccoli is limp, but at least it's not transparent like I saw in the hospital once, or twice.

The sunset was weak, but I still liked it. It brought the day to nice close.

Tomorrow, it's another long day.