Montanians? Is that what they’d be called? Whatever it is, it should be superseded by the word, ‘considerate’. Aside from the cap gun incident, every driver has been courteous to a fault, giving us a wide berth on the highway, waiting patiently at intersections as we all straggle across and unfailingly helpful with hints and directions. Not to mention that this is one of the cleanest highways we’ve ever cycled.
As I was the driver yesterday, I met up with The Stupids for a picnic lunch in the town of Plains, Montana. We ate at the Wildwood Elementary School picnic table in their shady field and then wandered about the dusty hot town. A man approached Karen and asked our final destination…when he heard Quinns Hot Springs he suggested a river road route off the highway. I carried on to Paradise while the other Stupids cycled along his suggested river route. They said it was absolutely spectacular along the cooler river road and heady with the scent of wild roses. What’s not to love?
But I did alright too. I stopped in at the Whistlestop Cafe in Paradise and had a hot fudge sundae. It seems my metabolism was still kicked into high gear and thought that I was still actually earning my calories.
The rooms at Quinns Resort were air-conditioned large log-cabin cowboy style though it did seem rather bizarre to be immersing ourselves in hot springs when the air was still sizzling with bursting pine cones.
The only disappointment about getting further south has been that there seems to be less old bikers on their big bad-assed Harleys. It’s been fun having all those leathered, grizzled guys and gals give us the high-five, low-five, peace-sign or wave as they roared past us. There they are with no helmets, handlebar moustaches or grey braids, riding hard and wild.. and friendly as all heck.
The yuppies on the BMW cruisers? Or any other type of biker? Nothing. Not a how-do-you-do or who-are-you? Interesting little study in human behaviour…Not sure what that means.