Rugged Country

After such an amazing day and some epic progress I was rewarded with a horrible night. The cold concrete picnic tabletop would let me know of its temperature even through all of my cloths and sleeping bag. I would sleep with one arm under my head and switch every 30-45 minutes because my arm would go numb. My body could not wait to get out of this position and rest awake. “slept” for 3 hours and my body was done with the torture. I awoke and could see the hills have gotten much larger from what was visible at dusk. Their peaks would disappear into a cold fog. I geared up and looked at the forecast. More rain and chilly temperatures made me cringe but hit the road anyways.

I was moving against the rain and made through it quickly. Montana took me in with open arms. Her roads were like smooth rolling waves. Cindy would sink down and pop back up the whole time and it was a pleasant change. The small gas stations that I stopped at only had cowboys and Indians. Both living in peace now and weathered and worked. Montanan’s looked like a hardworking bunch and nothing came easy to them.

Made it over several passes and again the weather went sour. This time the cold came in colder and the rain was able to make itself felt more because of it. The darker clouds would bring with them hail, and at speed limit it felt like the pellets would tear through my gear and bloody up my gloveless knuckles. The prior nights sleep started to take its toll and I went as far as I could go and made it to Butte where I stopped to eat dinner. As I sat down other bikers in the dining hall recognized me as one of their own and we started to chat. Snow was in the forecast and it had forced them to stop here and wait out the cold. I am risky but not that risky. I too chose to get a room. I got all of my gear scattered out in the room and cranked up the heat for it to work its magic. Life is so much sweeter when there is a soft bed waiting to take you in after a cold, wet, hard day. I was warm and sleeping in no time.