Monday, July 29, 2013
Roadside stop: Jordan , Montana . This was the first town we’ve come across
that had any services since we left Lewistown 150 miles ago. Rt. 200 in Montana has many ranches along it but not
much in the way of towns. It was coffee time so we stopped at the café /
gas station / general store. It reminded
me a lot of Stewart’s in Pine Plains, not physically, but the same characters
were there. There was no coffee, but
there were muffins. The local Sheriff
was at the counter talking to the cashier about local stuff. After a minute he noticed I was waiting and
apologizrd saying “Here I was broadcasting when I should be receiving”, to
which the cashier agreed he was good at broadcasting. I asked if there was coffee next door (through
and archway) in the café explaining the machine was empty. The sheriff was nice enough to go and make
another pot for us. While the coffee was
brewing we sat at a table and ate our muffin, getting into a conversation with
a local person that had worked at the atomic plant and Boeing in Washington State .
He came back to Montana because there
wasn’t any good hunting or fishing near Seattle
and the traffic was miserable. Not a
problem around Jordan . There’s plenty of the first two, none of the
third. Another quote Mom heard was two
locals commenting on the weather: “Beautiful day, isn’t it? (reply) Yep, it’s a
good fencing day.” I assume that means
cool, sunny, not too windy. After the
coffee was ready, while paying the Sheriff explained he wanted to put a speed
limit sign in the store window and related a couple of speeding stories – one
about a person that went through town at 60 mph. There was a person crossing the street, the
driver drove behind the person between them and the curb. His favorite story was stopping a Detroit cop who drove through town at 70 (the speed limit
outside of town in Montana . Two lane, four lane, straight, twisty, hilly,
70 mph. Let the driver decide how fast
to go.) When the sheriff asked the Detroit cop if he knew
why he was stopped, his reply was “What town?”
We got the feeling the Detroit
cop did not receive any “Professional courtesy.”
We left Lewistown on the prairie, drove past fields of
wheat, which gave way to grasslands and sagebrush with cattle and horses grazing. This in turn gave way to the hills and
gullies of the badlands of North
Dakota , then grassland again. We stopped for lunch in a little town named
Richey. The town grew up before the
first world war when the railroad reached this point. This became the end of the tracks when the US
entered WW I and efforts were redirected to the war effort. The town park offered a pleasant spot to eat.
We’re camped in the middle of the new oil boom – housing is
hard to find, RV spaces harder. This
campground keeps two spaces for transients, the rest are oilfield workers. This once quiet agricultural town now grows
housing with constant truck traffic on the highway. No picnic tables or grills in this
campground! The manager said we picked
the campground without the meth heads, but we’re going to lock up well
anyway. Sweet dreams! Tomorrow we’ll be back in the countryside.
Jordan is the winner!
Rt. 200 prairie in eastern Montana
Jordan Cafe / store / gas station / gossip stop
This is not a demonstration at some historic park, it's the real thing. Along Rt 200 in Montana
Lunch in the Richey town park
I herd we were entering the grasslands
Old school vs contemporary income sources - farming and cattle vs oil
New crop
Entering North Dakota badlands. They start at the state line
Historic approach to housing
Housing now near Alexander ND in oil country
Views from our campsite - burning off gasses from gassy wells
Another section of the "campground". That's the campground road in the foreground
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