So, we here at the Maass Family Travel Journal (me, Greg, Long-Legs Bunny, and Goldy the Grand Am) recently returned from our annual summer trip to Big Sky Country. Due to time and financial constraints, our trip this year was a little abbreviated, and very hastily planned (I'm using that word "planned" very loosely). We decided to go about four days before we left, so it really was a fly-by-the-seats-of-our-pants kind of adventure. Lesson Learned: when planning to travel ANYWHERE over the 4th of July, SOME advanced planning might be nice, even necessary. if want to sleep somewhere other than car, that is.
My brother lives in Montana and we go almost every year, so Montana is nothing new to us. The first time we went to Montana, over ten years ago now, we almost killed ourselves when we went off the highway in a blizzard right outside of Bozeman. Lesson learned: do not drive 70mph on curvy mountain roads in blizzard. no, not even if are young and stupid and hoping to make it to Portland for the night. Although the people were extremely nice and helpful and the town is a college town and seemed fun, I kind of soured on Bozeman for several years after that. For years we never went back except to drive through on our way somewhere else. In 2006 my favorite band held a little, rustic music festival just outside of Bozeman, so we went for that, and we have gone for the festival every year since. But we've never spent much time in Bozeman itself; we've just enjoyed the music and hightailed it out of there. This year we decided to stay in the Bozeman area after the music ended and see what it had to offer. And it soon became clear: even after ten years of becoming older and presumably wiser (??!?), Bozeman can still kick our collective ass like nobody's business!
We planned to leave Tuesday afternoon, after Greg was done with work. It was therefore up to me to get most things ready to go and to bring the dogs up to Hinckley where my mom would meet us and take them to her house. I couldn't get to sleep on Monday night, so I decided to sleep in a bit Tuesday morning. I woke up and had to scramble to get the dogs in the car with all their stuff and drive about 85mph up to Hinckley. I was disgusting and hadn't showered, but I figured, "Mom has known me for 30 years and has surely seen me in a more revolting state at some point in time," so that's how I justified it. I met mom (on time!!!!) in Hinckley, and we decided to get some lunch at Subway. So we ate in the back of her SUV while my dogs sat in my car, RIGHT NEXT TO US. We talked for awhile, even though I was painfully aware that NOTHING was ready to go at home. Finally, we went our separate ways. I turned south on interstate 35, and got ready to cruise home on the open highway. I set the cruise to about 65….and nothing happened. I glanced down. Hmmmm, the plastic bottom of the cruise control mechanism was hanging by a little plastic thread. This had my dog Spiro written all over it. I could almost see his big, black, clumsy paws clawing the mechanism to pieces. Oh well, it was only A THOUSAND MILES to Gallatin National Forest, and this would make it SO MUCH MORE FUN!!!! Lesson learned: do not leave destructive beasts alone in car to entertain themselves, especially when said beasts have previously eaten an air conditioning vent in your other car, ESPECIALLY when you are about to spend 15+ hours in the vehicle, no matter what condition it happens to be in.
My foot was sore by the time I arrived home in less than an hour and a half, which didn't bode well for all the driving we'd have to do later. Still, I had a lot of work to do, if we wanted to leave soon after Greg got home. When he arrived, our front lawn looked like an REI clearance sale gone bad. We tried our best to stuff the necessities into Goldy and hit the road at around 7:30p.m. Which was about four hours later than we'd planned….but still pretty good considering this is the Maass Family Travel Journal we're talking about.
We managed to make it through all of Minneapolis and several of the western suburbs before we stopped for the first time in Rogers. (Is Rogers a suburb? Or an exurb? I'm going with exurb.) Yes, that's right, we managed to get about 25 miles before stopping for gas and dinner at Culver's. So much for not wasting our miniscule travel funds on shitty road food, but we were pinched for time, and ravenous….par for the course on a Maass family trip. We then settled in for the long haul, talking and laughing and trying to outrun a thunderstorm somewhere near Fergus Falls. We arrived at the North Dakota border just before midnight, and then we switched drivers, so as to best make use of my insomniac tendencies. I was finding it excruciating to drive without the cruise and my sandals on, so I just drove with one shoe, and that seemed to make all the difference. We stopped in West Fargo for a cup of coffee. We drove around forever through the desolate streets in the whipping wind looking for a gas station, and when we finally found one, we couldn't get any service. I poured a cup of rat piss coffee and the kid working was smoking outside and couldn't be bothered to come in and take my money. So we just left it on the counter. It was the worst coffee ever, too. Lesson learned: don't ever stop in West Fargo. for anything. not worth it. and if coffee looks like rat piss, it will taste even worse. trust me.
Sufficiently hopped up on rat piss, I proceeded to drive across North Dakota at 55mph for the rest of the night. I have no problem staying up all night, but my night vision leaves much to be desired, so I just took my time. We got great gas mileage, but when the sun began to rise, we were still in North Dakota. We switched drivers again at the Montana border, and we actually were having fun driving through that desolate part of the country. We laughed at the local radio and genuinely enjoyed just being on the road.
We arrived in Bozeman around noon. I wasn't sure what time Storyhill Fest was starting, having neglected to commit that crucial piece of information to memory. Lesson learned: do not have internet access in car. or computer, for that matter. so should look up needed info at home and write down on paper. and bring paper with. then will be prepared. We drove out of Bozeman and up into Hyalite Canyon. Since we were only attending one day of the festival and not both days, we couldn't camp on site and had to find our own place to stay. Despite the fact that it was a Wednesday, most campsites at the three National Forest campgrounds were already spoken for. Still, we managed to find a great one right on Hyalite Reservoir for the night. We would have to move the next day, but at least we were set for the night. We set up camp and decided to hike about a mile or so down the gravel road to Storyhill Fest. It was about 85 degrees, sunny and beautiful. So Greg wore a t-shirt and shorts and I wore a t-shirt, longish skirt, jeans jacket, and sandals.
We arrived at the site of Storyhill Fest just as the music was about to begin. We realized we'd forgotten our camera back at the campsite, but we didn't want to miss any music, so we did without. The music was great this year, as was the food, the after-hours campfire performances, and just about everything about the Festival. Storyhill took the stage at about 8:30pm. Soon after that, the sun set. I pulled on my jacket. I wrapped Greg's sweatshirt around my legs. I was still cold. We stayed at the campfire until well after 1am, when Greg could no longer keep his eyes open and I was shivering uncontrollably. We now had to hike back to our campground in the pitch dark along a deserted gravel road in the freezing cold. Fun stuff. Lesson learned: when are going to be hiking after dark in shitty shoes along gravel road with precipitous drop-offs scattered throughout, perhaps should bring along a flashlight or two. might help. also, wear pants. maybe also hat and gloves. is mountains. gets cold at night.
Well, we managed to make it back to our campground without major incident. I was shivering so uncontrollably we decided to turn on the heat in the car and sit there for awhile, despite quiet hours having begun over three hours ago. After 10 or 15 minutes we ran to the tent and snuggled in. It had now been almost 48 hours since I'd slept. I was so tired. I just wanted to pass out. But I was so cold I couldn't sleep. Finally we zipped our sleeping bags together and I stole some of Greg's excess body warmth and fell into a deep and wonderful sleep. Lesson learned: mountain air, extreme tiredness, and a shared sleeping bag will make sleep like brick.
TO BE CONTINUED….
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