Montana Roadtrip

The idea was too good to pass up. My friend Steve offered me his '88 Dodge Ram pickup for $200 if I would take him to Montana to the headwaters of the Missouri River. The problem was, I had just started a new job and could not possibly ask for time off yet. The only logical solution was to drive 1200 miles to Montana to drop Steve off during the weekend and be back for work Monday morning. Sounds like fun!

Steve drove up from Monterey on Thursday afternoon and got into Reno about 6 PM. He was supposed to arrive earlier but it was snowing as he was coming over Donner Pass, so he was delayed. My boss Chet was kind enough to loan us some tire chains in case we ran into more snow along the way. Did I mention that the truck is 2WD? Snow ahead? Hmm... maybe this isn't such a good idea. Too late now, Steve is here and ready to go. The whole premise of the trip was to take Steve to the Missouri River, where he would canoe to the Mississippi River and then continue on New Orleans... by canoe... by himself. Suddenly the driving portion of the trip doesn't seem so crazy.

We left Reno about 7 PM and arrived in Elko around midnight. We had hoped to make it to Wells, Nevada, but fell 50 miles short. The truck was running great though. After a night of tossing and turning in the Elko Super 8 we awoke to snow. This had us both a little concerned as we were heading further north and east into the Rockies. Fortunately the storm cleared and we made good progress. Steve and I admired the geology of Idaho and swapped theories about the origins and compositions of the many roadcuts we passed. The trip was rather uneventful until we arrived in Twin Falls, Idaho. Twin Falls looks like any other Midwestern town, but it hangs upon the side of a cliff overlooking the Snake River. The gorge down into the river is hundreds of feet deep, it was breathtaking! Beyond Twin Falls, the only items worth noting about Idaho were the number of LARGE tractors on the highway and the proliferation of earthen huts. My original theory about the huts was that these were some sort of secret chamber that was camoflagued so that it would not be seen from survallence planes, but the locals informed me that they were nothing so sinister, they just store potatoes.

After passing through Pocatello and Idaho Falls we entered into Montana and stopped for dinner in Butte. Butte was... not a very pretty town. I almost went to Montana Tech and upon seeing Butte and its HUGE open pit mine, I am glad that I did not spend four years there. We drove on through the mountains to Helena (which was quite pretty) and then to Great Falls, where we met up with the Missouri River. Thinking my obligations were complete I started to say my goodbyes before Steve notified me that he planned on starting his journey a little further down river, beyond Fort Peck Reservoir. We kept driving along, now out of the Rockies and into the plains of the Midwest. As we drove along the meandering Missouri I could see the anticipation in Steve's eyes. He told about how he planned to sleep on sandy islands in the middle of the river, his own private piece of the world. When he arrived in Havre it was only 10 PM and we were still wide awake so we pressed on. Unfortunately Zurich and Harlem, Montana do not offer much in the way of accommodations so we continued to Malta for the night, 980 miles from where we started the day.

Saturday morning we got off to another early start and departed for Fort Peck, where Steve and I would go our seperate ways. We must have seen a dozen ring necked pheasant and as many sage grouse in the 120 miles between Malta and Glasgow, where we ate breakfast. We also encountered a stranded motorist along the way and gave him a ride back to Glasgow. The gentleman was useful to me because I could use the good roadside karma before the long drive home and Steve pumped him for information about the river and obstacles that lie ahead of him. After a leisurely breakfast in Glasgow we finally arrived below the Fort Peck dam around 11 AM. I helped Steve unload the canoe and his provisions and assisted him as well as I could in prepping his craft. Once that was done we said our goodbyes and I turned back west. I must say that is was a little unsettling to leave a good friend in the middle of nowhere with nothing more than a canoe!

On my return trip I took a different route, heading south to Bozeman and skirting along the edge of Yellowstone before meeting up with Interstate 15 in Idaho Falls. The first part of the trip was definitely the hardest, as I had to contend with the loss of Steve's company, the stark Montana countryside, and the complete lack of radio stations (no CD player or cassette deck in the ol' Dodge). Things got better as I continued south though and entered Bozeman. What a beautiful town! Bozeman has a cute downtown district, hip restaurants, great views, and is teeming with young people. I stopped here for dinner but did not linger as I wanted to view Yellowstone while there was still daylight. I was not disappointed by what I saw, which included bison, antelope, and spectacular views of jagged cliffs and snow fed streams. I continued on to Pocatello, Idaho for the night, having driven 784 miles during the day.

Sunday morning I woke up for the home stretch. I was on the road by 6 AM and only had to cover 600 miles. I followed the same route that Steve and I had taken to Montana, passing through Twin Falls, Wells, Elko, Winnemucca, and then back to Reno. I stopped in Twin Falls to take pictures of the Snake River, otherwise I only stopped twice for gas during the day. I was back in Reno by 2 PM, early enough to hide Easter eggs with my nieces and nephews and enjoy Easter dinner. The trip went without a hitch; no mechanical problems and beautiful weather.

I apologize for the blurry and bug splattered pictures. Nearly all of the pictures were taken out of a moving vehicle, often while I was driving. I do not advocate this practice for others, take care when driving!