Blogs from Lewistown, Montana, United States, North America

I'm sitting here in the shade at a concrete picnic table in a Kiwanis-operated free campground on the outskirts of Lewistown, which is the geographical center of Montana. The air is warm and dry, with a nice, cool breeze blowing across me. Behind me sits Empedocles, the Wonder Odyssey, in which Sally is lying down with her friend Shinzen, trying to get rid of a headache. To my left, just across a gravel drive, there's a hole in the ground about three inches in diameter. Every now and then a prairie dog peeks out at me. His name is Paul. He lives here, and he's wondering just what the hell it is I think I'm doing, driving over his home. We spent the night at Lewistown's historic Calvert Hotel, which specializes in fancy decor, failing to ... read more

We left Denali and drove north to Fairbanks, hoping for clear skies so we could see the northern lights. Not – clouds and rain again. I doubt we’ll do this long drive again, but given enough time and resources, I’d like to fly up here in the winter, as Fairbanks is one of the best places to see the aurora borealis. I have a very short bucket list, but seeing them is on it. About Fairbanks: we talked to a waitress who said, “It’s not the 40 below temps; it’s the darkness. We only get 3-4 hours of light each day.” Fairbanks was as far north as we got on this trip, after we eliminated the Dempster Highway from our plan. (Oh, by the way, we checked the weather during the two weeks we were going ... read more

This is our second night in Lewistown, Montana. We find ourselves accompanied friendly English setters, sautéed sharp tailed grouse, and lots of dust. Our two protagonists, also known as “the athletes,” have ridden 180 miles since Great Falls. And as befits the purpose of this Corps, they have made significant discoveries. Yesterday I rode with the athletes. Fred rides lead, and I quickly discovered how foolish it is to attempt to keep up. My father, girt in “hunters orange,” set a more congenial pace. So initially I stuck behind him. But this was hard to do because he was so slow. And why ride your brakes down the hills -- he just sucked all of the fun out the best thing about riding -- the coasting. So I took off, and Dad became an orange spot ... read more