My friend, Montana Dan (as I now call him), and I hopped in the D-Mobile and aimed for Red Lodge late Saturday morning, adventure in our eyes. Red Lodge, MT is a cute little one-horse town about an hour southwest of Billings. After a cheap meal at the Red Lodge Cafe (where everyone stared at us when we walked in - including a cowboy with a giant feather in his hat), we spent the rest of the day wandering in and out of the shops. One of our favorites was a metal works place owned by a young married couple. Loved their stuff, Could have done way more damage then I did, but ended up with a cool iron moroccan patterned piece for the wall and commissioned them to make a tree wall key-rack. D. walked away with a rough metal bird magnet. We then ran into Norrine the Outlaw Queen, whose silver whiskers suggested I might want to make an electrolysis appointment when I get home. But she owns her stache and she's a local celebrity, so just you shut up about the facial hair. If you are the Outlaw Queen, then you can roll any way you want. I was sorry she was playing a private gig that night and we couldn't sit in, but maybe someday. I did find this, however.
By the time late afternoon rolled around, we were ready to check into the Irish Rose Bed and Breakfast, where we were greeted by the proprietor Gordon, a friendly, grandfatherly-type, and his quiet lady love, Leah. D. promptly dubbed them Walter and Merle, which we agreed suited them better. Our room was in the front of the old, quaint charmer of a house. Kitschy and cute and surprisingly un-western-themed, with its Irish embellishments here and there. Walter and Merle have never been to Ireland, we were surprised to learn. But we were thankful for the Irish leprechaun hat in our room that coaxed a little jig out of Dan:
After a delicious din-din at the Bridge Creek Restaurant with a roaring fire at our backs, we returned to our little inn on the edge of town (with deer grazing on the lawn of the house across the street) and called it a night and retired to our room to watch Before Sunset. Holy cow, that movie defies everything by just filming two people talking for an hour and a half. It was magnificent, as was its predecessor Before Sunrise made nine years earlier. Looking forward to the next installment in another three years or so. The two characters are exactly my age and I can so relate to their conversations. I've had the same ones time and time again.
Merle made a delicious breakfast this morning of oven-baked pecan and apple french toast with bacon, fresh pears, juice, yogurt and granola. I can count on one hand how many times I've eaten a strip of bacon in my lifetime, but since D. doesn't eat meat, I had to prove to Merle that I was grateful for her bacon makin', so I went all out and ate four of the six strips. Yeah. I can see why most men are obsessed with bacon. That stuff is tasty. Now D. and I are just lounging in the sitting room listening to Walter and Merle's musical selection, which includes Susan's Boyle's CD. Somehow, it's the most fitting choice. We don't want to leave, but it's also too pretty of a day to waste inside, so out we go.
Today we're hoping to rent ATVs or horses instead of hiking because D. is afraid of happening upon a bear. And although I keep teasing him, he's right. This am bear country, pure and simple. This morning I read in the newspaper about a local hiker missing and that there was evidence of bears in the area where he was hiking. Alone. Me and D., well, we've decided that being torn apart by a wild animal is not the way to go. A nice, strong stroke that takes you out or merely dying of natural causes while sleeping sounds way cheerier, thank you very much.
By the time late afternoon rolled around, we were ready to check into the Irish Rose Bed and Breakfast, where we were greeted by the proprietor Gordon, a friendly, grandfatherly-type, and his quiet lady love, Leah. D. promptly dubbed them Walter and Merle, which we agreed suited them better. Our room was in the front of the old, quaint charmer of a house. Kitschy and cute and surprisingly un-western-themed, with its Irish embellishments here and there. Walter and Merle have never been to Ireland, we were surprised to learn. But we were thankful for the Irish leprechaun hat in our room that coaxed a little jig out of Dan:
After a delicious din-din at the Bridge Creek Restaurant with a roaring fire at our backs, we returned to our little inn on the edge of town (with deer grazing on the lawn of the house across the street) and called it a night and retired to our room to watch Before Sunset. Holy cow, that movie defies everything by just filming two people talking for an hour and a half. It was magnificent, as was its predecessor Before Sunrise made nine years earlier. Looking forward to the next installment in another three years or so. The two characters are exactly my age and I can so relate to their conversations. I've had the same ones time and time again.Merle made a delicious breakfast this morning of oven-baked pecan and apple french toast with bacon, fresh pears, juice, yogurt and granola. I can count on one hand how many times I've eaten a strip of bacon in my lifetime, but since D. doesn't eat meat, I had to prove to Merle that I was grateful for her bacon makin', so I went all out and ate four of the six strips. Yeah. I can see why most men are obsessed with bacon. That stuff is tasty. Now D. and I are just lounging in the sitting room listening to Walter and Merle's musical selection, which includes Susan's Boyle's CD. Somehow, it's the most fitting choice. We don't want to leave, but it's also too pretty of a day to waste inside, so out we go.
Today we're hoping to rent ATVs or horses instead of hiking because D. is afraid of happening upon a bear. And although I keep teasing him, he's right. This am bear country, pure and simple. This morning I read in the newspaper about a local hiker missing and that there was evidence of bears in the area where he was hiking. Alone. Me and D., well, we've decided that being torn apart by a wild animal is not the way to go. A nice, strong stroke that takes you out or merely dying of natural causes while sleeping sounds way cheerier, thank you very much.
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