Last night's drive was one of the more surreal experiences of my life. It was pitch black – Wyoming and Montana don't have lights on the freeway except near towns, and there aren't many towns – and we were experiencing the genesis of a serious blizzard. Half the time, with our headlights shining at blackness and sideways snowflakes, it felt as if the car was not moving at all, but caught in some kind of bucking light show. Other times, on hills I guess, and on bridges, which really do freeze before everything else, it was like we were making the jump to light speed and everything was moving way too fast. I was glad, not to mention thankful for my life, when we finally pulled in to Bozeman, Montana, found a hotel, and collapsed with some much-needed MSNBC vs. Bravo action. I slept hard – the kind of hard where you wake up in the middle of the night and don't know where you are, and don't care.
This morning we woke up and it was still cold as hell, and the world (i.e. the parking lot) was covered with ice, but it wasn't snowing too hard. We decided we would look around Bozeman a little before heading to Butte and then Missoula.
I found some great records (I'm overdue on posting new acquisitions – those are coming soon) and Emily found good fashion photography book, and a shirt and belt at Salvation Army (ditto on that). And there are a lot of good neon signs.
I wouldn't call Bozeman a destination (unless you're there to ski or pursue some other outdoor activity) but if you ever find yourself here, as we did, feel glad. Just like Missoula and Bellingham and Ellensburg and Moscow, it's a frontier college town with a solid weekend's worth of fun stuff to do.
Next up: Butte.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
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