Tuesday, September 13, 2016
I woke up before my father, packed up my tent, and went for a short hike around the state park’s trails. When he rejoined the conscious, he sent me off in the car to fetch coffee. I drove back to a roadside combination café/casino (really a diner on the side of the road with slot machines) and made our purchase. Talking to the woman at the counter, I learned she was from Oregon and had a college roommate from Massachusetts. She playfully called me a “Mass ass,” but I corrected her, noting that the proper slur is “Masshole.”
Upon my return, we set off driving south again, entering the Flathead Indian Reservation again and enjoyed a drive through the country along the lakes the hills surrounding it. We took some detours to drive a few of the long dirt roads providing access to and marking the boundaries between the cattle ranches in the area. Eventually we arrived in a town along the lake and stopped at a diner called Betty’s Café – where they serve all-day breakfast! A delicious helping of scrambled eggs with sausage and the diner’s choice of potato innovations was happily enjoyed.
Moving on, we saw signs for the “Miracle of America Museum.” Anticipating some minor attraction, perhaps a cabinet of curiosities in a shack, consistent with roadside America’s reputation, we pulled off onto Memory Lane in Polson, Montana. Stepping inside, we were awed. Our six dollars for admission gave us access to an incredible collection of vintage motorcycles, carriages, and knickknacks.
My jaw dropped at one of the firearms displays where incredibly rare specimens of revolving rifles and German WWII-era military weapons were casually zip tied to the wall. My father stared at a room full of motorcycles representing every era from when they were essentially motorized bicycles to modern day Indians that could be taken home from the showroom today. And this was just the first few rooms! The outdoor collection in the lot behind the building encompassed whole aircraft, vintage automobiles, and even… barns, banks, general stores, and school houses.
Yes, the museum’s inventory includes entire buildings brought to the site. Granted most of these structures were the size of a large outdoor storage shed, but… still! There were also eccentric displays, such as one featuring an alien autopsy scene.
Speaking to the owner, Dad learned it was all one man’s collection. He had begun amassing these things some forty years ago and credits the “Miracle of America” theme to when he was in Germany and “realized how great America was.” Well, I appreciated the grand form of his argument.
Leaving Polson southward, our view was flanked with the Rocky Mountains over our left shoulders and the Bitterroot Range (which I think is really a spur of the Rockies) over our right, with miles and miles of farmland and ranches in the valley between these stone walls, punctuated by the occasional town.
