Road Trip Day 1: Montana at night

Montana was big, beautiful, empty, and, on a Saturday night, full of highway patrol. I saw at least one every mile. One followed me for ten miles and made me nervous, even though I knew I wasn't speeding (damn trailer slowing me down) or doing anything illegal. I pulled into a gas station and he followed me there too. We nodded at each other as we pumped our gas. Lightning flickered over the hills—Montana is gorgeous.

Also poor. Pulled up alongside the gas station was an RV with a table out front. A woman ducked in and out of the motor home and her children milled around the table. The cop walked over to them and asked, “What are you guys selling today?”

“Mugs,” said the boy.

The girl yelled, “Tee shirts!”

“Great. Where do you guys live?”

“Over there,” one of them said, and pointed up between two hills. “We're going home soon.”

The cop and I were the only people at the gas station, and I hadn't seen a single car pull off the interstate to investigate the little mountain town—they couldn't have been getting much business.

We drove to Drummond, Montana and stayed in the Sky Motel, which looked sketchy at first glance. It was seedy, the upstairs rooms could only be accessed by walking through the front office and up a tiny flight of stairs, and there were three good ol' boys out front talking trucks with the counter girl. There was some confusion among the staff when I tried to rent a room, and the counter girl—who they all called Booger—got really mad and said “Shee-it” under her breath. The room was great, Clementine was glad to be out of the car, and we were glad to get some sleep. If you're ever passing through Drummond, MT, I recommend the Sky Motel. Day two, with rude grocery store clerks and thousands of Harley Davidsons, is coming soon!