Champing At The Bit

Tuesday, September 28  - Yellowstone to Coeur D'Alene, Idaho

We're like horses that have been turned for home and have caught a whiff of the barn - although in the case of PT it will be the whiff of the paper factory (more on that another time.)

We were originally going to stay in Deer Lodge, Montana tonight, just before the turn off the Interstate for the southern Washington state portion of our trip.  This leg would have taken us through the towns of Walla Walla (which I love saying just as much as the Aussie town of Wagga Wagga) then on to romantic and majestic (and active) Mt. Ranier for the last couple of nights.

Instead, we decided to blow off this whole section and head for home.  We would stop at Missoula, Montana instead, a straight five hour shot on the Interstate.

Montana is as pretty as Wyoming but seems to be a bit more mellow. Not as hell bent on shooting everything, more into raising fat and happy cows under magnificent, endless skies.

Back to the road.  Thanks to an early start

Sunrise over Gardiner, Montana and Yellowstone

we arrived in Butte, Montana, in time for an early lunch at another Road Food guide spot.  Wish I could say Pork Chop John's lived up to its wonderful name - after all, it's pork, it's deep fried, it's served "fully loaded" on a bun.

Sadly, it tasted like a meat patty left too long under the heat lamp.  Equally sad, the recommended western gear place in town ("Tell 'em Pork Chop John sent ya!") didn't have a red suede jacket so we hit the road again.

Outdoor dining area at Pork Chop John's

Missoula's a pretty little university town but we didn't stay because by this time we'd decided to keep going, maybe get to the Idaho border.  Beautiful countryside but who has time for more scenic shots?  We reached the border and decided to keep going to Coeur d'Alene instead, which Karen told us we'd reach by 5 pm.  Sounded reasonable except we'd forgotten about the time zone change which added an extra hour to what turned out to be 10 hours on the road.

We pulled into a lovely, isolated rest stop around 4 for a much needed tea break. Even Dan agrees that it does wonders to perk you up.  I'd just made the pot and broken out the bikkies when we noticed a really nasty smell.  Turns out we had company - not a skunk, but the septic pump man who had chosen this very moment to arrive and clean out the toilet.  It's only now occured to me that I should have taken a photo, but then again, do you need to see that?  Probably not.  The funny part really is that we stayed there, stoically drinking our tea, while he went about his business and the smell just got worse.  We were like the Brits who huddle under massive blankets in gale force winds at the beach because, dammit, they're on a seaside holiday and they'll bloody well enjoy it.  We really needed that tea.

But maybe that smell worked its way into not only our olfactory senses but into our longing to be "home" because by the time we'd arrived at the trailer park (really nice one, too, on the shores of the impressive lake here, but who cares?  Also, this town is where Sarah Palin got her degree in field stripping moose.) we'd discussed the rather daring plan of maybe shooting for Port Townsend  the next day.

It's all a bit complicated with the dropping off of the RV in Tacoma, and the picking up of two new cars, and the possibility of not fitting into the two of them all the stuff we have jammed into this RV for the last stretch to PT.  So, we'll try to drive straight to PT tomorrow and unload it right into our new home.  We'll return it on Saturday, pick up the new cars and maybe pop in to the Pacific Northwest Tea Festival in Seattle.  Whew! And then there's all the added excitement about the building we think we're going to make an offer on which I'm not even going to mention for fear of jinxing it.

Port Townsend or Bust!