Meet Me In Montana

By -





I imagine that the Motel 6 Corporation has a special working group, probably staffed by retired prison goveners, whose job it is to specify how their rooms should be furnished and equipped  at the lowest possible cost. Just getting those little slivers of soap so they vanish after the 2nd armpit is a work of brilliance.

But first:  our overnight stop last night was an idyllic location with simple rustic cabins in a clearing in the forest.  There was a central lodge with bar, restaurant and serving girls in shorts and none of those are things to complain about.  This time we avoided any mad women and had an enjoyable meal with a beer or three on a terrace overlooking the pine covered hills and an industrious colony of gophers.

Today started out positively chilly but we soon warmed up as we climbed to the Lolo pass and the Montana border.  Our 3rd state.  The rest of the day was spent gently cruising down the Bitteroot valley at speeds of about 20mph, occasionally turning the pedals for form's sake.

We are now in Missoula, home of the Adventure Cycling Association, and we popped in to claim our 'free' ice-cream.  I say 'free' because most of us ended up buying an $85 cycling jersey. 

And yes, we are staying in a Motel 6.  We have 2 beds, a sliver of soap and.....err.....did I mention the soap?

Tomorrow we start heading southeast towards Yellowstone and spirits are high!

PS

Marie Osmond in her post 'Paper Woses' days.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Now That's What I Call Music Vol II

By -
Image
Real Gone Kid Having arrived a little late at the start, Nick made up for it by leaving a day early.  There was a tear in my eye as I waved him off...then I realised I could take his bedroom.  This was particularly welcome since Plum's snoring was so bad last night I ended up sleeping on the sofa. Not Fair The Spanish do not appear to have any concept of 'weights and measures'.  In Blighty we have rules about such things and people to enforce them.  If you buy a pint it will contain 20 fluid ounces....or if it doesn't you are required, by law, to make a sarcastic comment to the barman.  Something like "could you fit a scotch in there?" is traditional.  Because Malaga is an area with many Brits, every bar offers a beer size called a "pinta".  If you are very VERY lucky this may indeed be a pint but usually it is just the biggest glass they have, which could be anything from about 40cl upwards.  You won't ...
Read more

Ruby Tuesday

By -
Image
Last night we have found a cunning loophole in the Spanish 'no dinner until midnight' laws.  Our apartment is close to a shopping mall which seems to have some sort of exemption from the normal rules of Spain.  On the upper floor is a food court where we found restaurants open and happy to serve us food at 6:30.  We had pizza.... not very Spanish but did I mention it was open at 6:30? Nick rocked up at about 9pm.  Lorraine, we now discover, is pushing 74 and looked like she had wafted here from Luton Care Home rather than paradise. So we are now at gang of four until David joins us on Saturday. Today we went for a ride.  It was a simple 'there and back' ride along the coast with a loop up into the hills which, on paper, looked like a piece of cake.  Getting out of Malaga requires 5 fairly poor miles, with the same on the return.  The other 40 were nice BUT there was a bit of a hill.  It was 5 miles long and mostly bottom gear...not...
Read more

Escape (the Pina Colada song)

By -
Image
We went to the Brazilian and it was magnificent. There were hot dead animals of every kind and we ate lots of them.   Our new arrival, David, is not entirely aligned with corporate policy vis a vis drinks.  We all ordered a large beer but David went for a Pina Colada.....yes, I know!  I will take him on one side tomorrow and explain that this sort of nonsense just isn't acceptable, even if he does like making love at midnight in the dunes of the cape. Today we did a 60 mile ride with clear blue skies and highs in the low 20s....which was nice.  Slightly less nice was the ruddy great hill we had to climb right out of the door.  Distance, grade and total climb are numbers that won't convey the true horror of this bastard so let's describe it in simpler language....2 hours in bottom gear at walking pace.  David redeemed himself after his big drinks faux pa by being slower than me.  Cresting a hill in anything other than last place is an exp...
Read more