Day 4 -- North Dakota, Montana

Day 4 - A thousand pardons to the State of North Dakota and its people for saying it was nondescript. The western edge starting about 30 miles from Montana is spectacular. There is a painted canyon along I-94 that is Sedona-esk. Unfortunately the weather was very strange -- cold, windy and rainy. As I mentioned yesterday the temp hit 90F while I was driving -- this morning 42F! My worst fear on this trip is that I will hit snow and be stuck because I have high speed performance tires that cannot handle snow at all. I checked the weather in all the places on my itinerary before I left and it seemed fine, but anything can happen. The weather was so crappy that I had to drive at 70 mph for while. By the way, I have not seen a single state trooper in ND or MT. You know that I am the king of speeding tickets, with all respect to my eldest daughter who has surpassed me without looking in her rear view mirror so hope I didn't just jinx myself. I was passed by a Porsche Carerra today -- I resisted the urge to race him.

I haven't done anything stupid today but I did fail to meet or speak to any stranger except waiters, clerks, etc. And boy did I blow the opportunity of a lifetime -- or at least of this trip! I was eating a magnificent bacon cheeseburger (no fries) at the exquisite Forsyth, MT Dairy Queen when Pecos Bill's great uncle walked in. He was about 5'5", lean and weathered, about 70 years old, his hands looked like he had worked with them everyday of his life. He wore filthy jeans held up by leather suspenders, a dirty frayed flannel shirt with patches sown on the sleeves, a neckerchief and a black mountain man hat. He had a full gray beard, glasses, a walking stick and a pronounced limp. And of course he smiled and said hello. Why, oh why didn't I ask him if I could take his picture? And his ride -- an old Ford 150 that had been ridden hard and put away wet. Damn, I wish I would have spoken to him. I gave some thought to achieving my goal of talking to a stranger by asking the guy next to me at the bar at dinner if he lived in Montana, but that would have been the woosy way to make my goal. Once you pass on Pecos Bill's great uncle, you just hang your head and except your failure.

Downtown Billings is sort of like downtown Ft. Wayne except there are less cowboys in Ft. Wayne. In either city you could roll a bowling ball down main street at 7:00pm and never hit anything. They have no nightlife; they have still life.

I still love this trip. No doubt my high spirits are making me feel better and even though I seem to spend most of the day in the car, I am walking more than I do at home -- you know, when I'm bored and lethargic. Today"s step count: 8,200! More than 4 miles. And -- drum roll -- I hiked up a trail at a rest stop that was maybe 1/4 of a mile and fairly steep and I didn't get lightheaded . . . I almost threw up my milkshake but I didn't get lightheaded!