Here I am in one of the most beautiful places in the world—the Bitterroot Valley—and I just want to come home.

*These driving days seem to be getting longer—road work season is upon us/the gas stations all have the same junk food/there are no Starbucks between Sioux Falls and Missoula [and no…there is no good coffee on the road…do not believe for a moment that truckers drink anything resembling coffee] .

*The motel (that got good reviews on line) sucks—the screen is broken where previous occupants climbed in when they locked themselves out of the room [so the story goes]/it smells like someone ate something greasily unhealthy in here sometime/the hall is dirty/it’s attached to a less-than elegant casino and a few sleazy-looking characters are lurking about—but all the salt-of-the-earth-appearing ranchers serve as a positive counterbalance.

*My exhausted Mazda is exceedingly grungy. She has about 2500 more miles to travel. She is sad.

*I must wash things in the sink or see if the convenience store next door sells underwear.

*I’m having wheat thins and a green machine drink for dinner. Could have gone next door to Taco Bell but you know—too much of a good thing…

Let’s see what else? That’s enough. I always do this on long trips don’t I?

Photos:

BUTTE, MONTANA IS INTERESTING, HISTORIC AND MAYBE A LITTLE DEPRESSING.