Lewis and Clark Caverns SP

We came from Yellowstone to I-90 and the demands of necessities. It had been a glorious few days of freedom from wifi and phone, but now I checked in and also needed to post some stuff for the grammar class. We came upon a McDonalds and, yes, bought some of their horrible but scarily compelling food, only to find out their wifi was down. This really ticked me off since the big sign on the door was advertising their free wifi.

Why I Am a Democratic Socialist
So, what to do? We decided we would hunt up something in Bozeman, which was on the way. I was going to drag my McDonalds cup in to the next McD's and demand wifi, but lo and behold, we drove by the absolutely gorgeous Bozeman library. Big parking lot too! It was closed, of course, on Sunday night, but on the front porch were plugs and picnic tables. When I tested the wifi, it was for the City of Bozeman as well as the library. While I sat and worked, Scott took T-Lou off to the park. If you have to work, this is the way to go.

Seriously, libraries are amazing, wonderful places. I personally support them through all the late fines I pay for DVDs. I never resent paying these, though I feel kind of dumb.

Bug Haven
We pulled up to the park after driving for miles south of I-90 through the incredible valleys of Montana. It was feeding frenzy time at the grassy little campground. But the trailer set up was quick, and we yanked T-Lou in ASAP (he was cabled outside and biting himself all over). I almost bit myself too.

We hit the beds, both just trashed. Great sleep!

Caverns!
I have been nattering about caverns this whole trip, with my old and brief spelunking days rising up. At college, I joined the Spelunking Club and ran around in caves and old lead mines by the Mississipi. I was a lot skinnier and loved squeezing through a mudhole into a cave or running around bent over (with hard hat and head lamp).

On our last trip, I had convinced Scott to go to this cave in Wyoming that was a small affair, and it was great. The guide was from Seattle and we had to climb these funky ladders. He told us a great story about how they had put a little fish down there and told the tourists it was a cave fish. Somehow, word of this got back to Jacque Cousteau's son, who wanted to come and investigate it. They guys who ran the cave freaked and somehow got him off the scent.

The cave here was a different affair, much more organized and all that, but it was still small enough not to be some big obnoxious affair like Luray Caverns or something, which I visited with my brother years back. (And even then I loved that cave!) I had seen ads for Mammoth Cave near Nashville, a boat tour through a cave, and I had read about all those caves in Missouri. Now, at last, we were going to go in a cave.

It was insanely hot. Thankfully, they had kennels for people's dogs. We left T-Lou (he's going to need a doggy psychiatrist after this trip) and signed up. We had to wait a little while, but there was all sorts of neat stuff to look at, including a big stuffed cougar. That is an animal I never want to meet.

In a group of about 20 other people, we walked a loooong way up Cave Mountain to the entrance. A Mennonite family caught my attention. The older women had long skirts and little hair things that barely showed, and they huffed and puffed. The young men looked like young men you would see anywhere, but the teenage girl had a cool little hat and a utilikilt as her skirt. You could tell she was about the hippest Mennonite around.

Inside the cave, it was wonderfully refreshing.It's smart of the park to have you do the hard work first and then go down stairs and such in the cave and amble out. All kinds of wonderful formations with guide patter, but folksy silliness that somehow didn't drive me mad. Stalactites, stalagmites, limestone fountains, a place we had to slide through on our butts. It was cool in every way.

We rescued the dog (who had some other companions, so I think he wasn't quite as freaked), and were on our way. We drove through country that had me singing the Bonanza theme song and remembering my crush on Little Joe. How oh how could he turn into Pa in Little House on the Prairie? That was so WRONG!

50 miles or so east of Missoula: "World Famous Bullshippers"

Exit 154: "Philipsburg" with one "l"!

Milepost 140: An add for the Testicle Festival

Construction, more construction. Roads are being worked on all over this country, let me tell you!

Another Wonderful Library
We were aiming for the Lochsa river and envisioned lounging around on its sandy beaches we had fallen in love with years ago. To have that kind of freedom, I needed to engage in a major grading session, so we headed to Missoula's Public Library, which is open till 9 p.m. How great is that?

But first, we got an oil change (ugh, they found a beautiful messed up butterfly in our air filter--it shouldn't have gotten in and maybe we have rats!), bought groceries, and then, as usual, Scott and the dog hung out and found a park where everyone was inner tubing along the river, while I slaved away in an air conditioned, beautifully set up library. Got everyone graded, and we were off, for Lolo Pass!