Day 6 - Missoula, Montana

Earthship Le Van Gogh Diary

Day 6 - Missoula, Montana

Aaaahhhh. One of my favorite works by Debussy is playing on the local NPR, “Pavane For a Dead Princess.” Macabre title aside, it’s simply a lovely and dreamy piece of music.

I’m parked in a super Wal-Mart parking lot between two pickup trucks with campers on their backs. There are a couple of other trailer-pulled campers nearby and several cars, but I know now that by tomorrow morning there will be more. Many more. Boon docking is very popular in the RV set.

Missoula is either a large town or a small city - I haven’t checked the stats but it’s pretty cool, however big it is. Still having problems catching a roaming signal, drat it. Tell me again why I paid for my own wireless device and a monthly fee to boot when there aren’t enough towers to support this? Bleh.

I parked and took a walk in the downtown area and it was quaint and charming and picturesque and all that. Most shops were closed but there were plenty of folks just out and about to see and get exercise and feel the sun whenever it made a brief appearance. It was good to stretch my legs and see what was popular in this neck of the woods.

After I was tired from walking I returned to my car and asked Charmagne to find the local Wal-Mart. This she could do! And she didn’t dump me in the middle of the road, either! Yay, Charmagne!!

I parked near the gathering cluster of RV’s, set up shop for a 12V night and walked over to the store. I wanted to find a voice activated recorder I could use while I’m driving that was close at hand and that didn’t require me to look away from the road to grasp it. Trying to write down what I see as I drive along is a very bad idea; hence, a tiny recording device that holds about 200 hours of my lovely voice should I choose to not delete as I go. Since I have no intention of saving all of my little notes after I’m done transcribing them into the blog I found the smallest recorder for sale and got it. Now I won’t be such a driving hazard to myself and others.

Tomorrow I drive to Butte, about 125 miles from Missoula. I’m just setting Charmagne to get me to the city center and I’ll take over once I see a good campground for the night. I didn’t bother showering tonight and I’ll need (and want) one a lot tomorrow, for sure, so a full-service campground is required. I’ve become a KOA member and I know they have one close to Butte so I’ll probably stop at that one. I like KOA - it’s clean, has all services including a laundry (important!), the aforementioned showers, a dumping station (I sure hope so because my tanks are getting full again. So quickly! Off I go to beddy by with the kitties tucked in to their nightly areas and me tucked into my little bed. Night all!

Lessons Learned:

That my attempts to figure out how to use the recording device on my own have failed.

That I might have to read the instructions because I can’t figure out how to do it myself.

I hate it when that happens.

That Le Van Gogh doesn’t drive any better with the wind at my back than it did when I was driving into the wind.

That the van is still broad and high (relatively speaking, of course) no matter which way the wind is blowing.

That the van just doesn’t drive easily at any speed above 45 mph.

Which should keep me alert.

And should develop really strong muscles in my hands and arms.

I would think.

That parking in Wal-Mart is cost effective but noisy.

That some moron pulled up close by our little RV area with windows down and bass cranked as high as it can go.

At 12:30 a.m.

That I might have to dig out my hammer and go bash in his windows and side panels.

But that might hurt my hammer.

So never mind.

Observations:

A fenced in area with ‘High Voltage’ signs every five feet and a blackened scorched-earth area where some fool clearly tried to find out if the owners were telling the truth.

Strolling around downtown Missoula I see a mannequin in a store with a truly demented expression on its face. Scary.

A car in front of me with a faded red tattered towel spread across the back area just below the rear window and pink plastic roses scattered all about.

A young couple taking a walk in the downtown area with a large black lab carrying a thick, short branch in his mouth.

Three street kids holding signs saying “Traveling but broke, too ugly to get work.” I spoke to them about the kind of jobs they had applied for and one boy, who was quite nice looking, said that he was too ugly and no one would hire him. Uh huh. The other kid, who was kind of ugly, actually, had tried to find a job, any job no matter how humble, but no one would hire him. The two boys and the girl, all appearing to be anywhere from 15-19 years of age, were dirty and their clothes somewhat tattered which might have been the reason no one would hire them. That and they looked like runaways. Then again, the amusing sign was working and folks were giving them spare change so it could be just an easy scam. No obvious signs of drug use and no bruises or abrasions from being beat up. I wondered, though, how long it would be before some pimp rounded them up and forced them into prostitution. May the gods look favorable upon them! I gave them the two dollars I had in my pocket, wished them well and moved on.

I think I left humidity far behind me. My thumbs have started to crack at the corners of the nails and I’m constantly thirsty (hence, full holding tanks…) so I’m getting the hint that I’m now in dry country. Time to find some bag balm.

I passed a Cracker Barrel restaurant on my way to Missoula. Amazing! This extremely popular chain with delicious, artery-clogging southern cooking is usually found in the South. Or so I thought. It sure looked popular up here as well when I drove past it.

A highway sign saying, “9 Mile Road 1 Mile.”