Somewhere in Montana—July 1, 2024

We have spent the last couple of days driving through Montana. Montana is huge and kind of empty. It’s the 4th largest state in size, but only the 8th most populous state. I quote these statistics to illustrate just how few and far between towns and people are in these wide open western states. You can drive for miles and miles without services, which is why it’s so convenient to travel in a vehicle like Vanna.

Last night we camped about 10 miles north of Big Sky, Montana in a little primitive campground by Swan Creek. Today we are driving around 280 miles north to stay in a campground near Swan Lake, Montana. I guess there are a lot of swans in Montana. Tomorrow, we will drive just another 50 miles and end up in Whitefish, Montana, where we will rent a VRBO for four nights. Whitefish is on the edge of Glacier National Park.

Camping is fun if you are prepared for all eventualities. Last night we ran out of water, which was not so fun. I am a big fan of a campground with hookups, wifi and cell service. Doug likes more primitive camping. So staying in a nice condo or hotel for part of the trip is how we compromise.

Today’s trip down memory lane: In the early 80’s we brought our three little girls out west in a motorhome. We borrowed a motorhome from Doug’s Dad that he had bought damaged and then “fixed up.” The brand name was Titan, but we called it the Titanic. And believe me, Titanic was an apt name.

One day we were headed to camp by some river at some god-forsaken campground in Colorado, and Doug found a “shortcut”to the campground that was off the main highway (Doug just loves shortcuts). Unfortunately, once we got on said “shortcut,” we found that the asphalt ended pretty quickly and we were left with a gravel road with a fine, white dust boiling up if you went over 10 miles per hour. Also, every part of the Titanic and every single thing in the Titanic rattled. I wanted to turn around immediately (Doug may remember this differently, but this is my story), but he hates to backtrack equally as much as he loves shortcuts. He just won’t do it. In his mind, everything loops around.

So, by the time we reached said campground (and listened to the din of a rattling rattrap for miles on end), the dust had come in through every nook and cranny of the Titanic and coated everything with a fine, white powder: our dishes, our pots and pans, our towels, our beds and bedding, our clothes. You get the picture. If you know me even a little bit, you know that I am an extremely tidy, neat person. I hate dirt. I was beside myself. As it happens there was a tiny convenience store and laundry mat on the premises. I spent the rest of the day and evening washing all of our clothes, towels and bed linens at the laundry mat (for a family of five), plus wiping down and washing every surface in the Titanic. In the meantime, Doug took the girls down to the river and they fished or skipped stones or something equally as lovely. What a day that was!

No pictures of Montana, but some more of Yellowstone: