I continue south on Highway 93 in Montana, then make a left on Highway 43, which is another cool looking road. There’s a cool breeze on my face, my clothes are comfy, and the Beast is purring like an enormous, contented cat. The road easily weaves this way and that and the mountains, valleys, and trees are postcard worthy.

 

Along the way is a small settlement called Wisdom where I stop for lunch at a diner called The Crossing. No cell phone service but the patty melt and chicken noodle soup are killer. More than what I needed, better than what I deserved. After the meal, I walk up to the waitress, a sweet Montana country gal.

 

      Me: Say! I’m gonna sit outside and enjoy the rest of my coffee.

      Sweet Montana Country Waitress: Okay.

      Me: But don’t worry, I won’t leave without paying.

      Sweet Montana Country Waitress: (Smiling) No worries, darling, I can run faster than you.

      Me: No doubt. Probably beat me up, too.

 

Gotta love Montana folk.