My dad, Michael, and I have a tradition of attempting to do a road trip together every fall, whenever we can both spare the time. This series follows our most recent journey through Montana, Idaho, Wyoming, and a little bit of South Dakota (by mistake) as told in a series of messages sent to a close friend. They have been modified somewhat to remove some non-trip related personal remarks, for general copy editing, and to preserve some of the road’s secrets to keep among those who travel it.
Monday, September 12, 2016
Awoke at 5:30 in preparation for our 8:30AM departure to Minneapolis and from there, on to Kalispell, Montana. We checked our bags and I was groped at the TSA checkpoint. Our first flight was uneventful and in the second, my father and I sat next to each other. We had the woman in the window seat laughing as I apologized to her in advance for all of our bickering. As we descended near Kalispell, the plane broke the clouds and we were greeted with the sight of farmers’ fields and ranchers’ pastures forming the texture of the valley plain against the Rocky Mountains.
We found our rental car and set off to Cabela’s and “Walton Outfitters.” With only our carry on and a single checked bag apiece, we arrived light and planned on purchasing most of our equipment and consumables once we had our car. After pricing out the cost of a pair of extremely cheap Wal-Mart tents (which would be a source of amusement to me later) and some wonderful air mattresses with a pump, our loadout felt downright luxurious in comparison to previous trips.
We went off south on Route 93 and settled into a campsite in a state park along the shore of Flathead Lake. After we arranged our tents and I marveled at how cheaply made some of our Wal-Mart gear really was, we hopped back into the car for a bit more exploring. We ventured south along Route 82 and crossed the boundary to the Flathead Indian Reservation.
We were immediately greeted with a change in landscape, as the sparse coniferous forest gave way to rolling plains wrapped around the hills around a lake stretching toward the horizon with the reds and oranges of the last evening light cast upon it. We stopped to take pictures.
[And much to my embarrassment later on, I can’t find the SD card those pictures are on!]
