We stopped at rest stops along the way. Folks, there is some desolate country once you get into Montana. Traffic on the Interstate is thin, and the dessert-like conditions and lack of trees make some areas look forbidding and forsaken. Sagebrush is the dominant pasture plant. The landscape was like that you see in the old cowboy movies... gulches, ravines, and dessert. So I called it "Cowboy Country".
|Signs like this are common throughout Montana|
You know about my fascination with Indians, right?
Of course we stopped.
|The Indian memorial|
This was worth the time spent, at least to me. We went through Billings, a huge, sprawling town spread out for miles in the valley as we left it behind. When we left Billings, we also left our last chance at any choice of a motel, for we headed up highway 3. Just tiny towns, population 500 perhaps, with one gas station and two taverns in each town.
Oh, but we did have Internet there!
From South Dakota on, our cell phone coverage was not reliable and our Sirius radio stopped receiving. We later found out it was our car radio that wasn't receiving, so Cliff thinks he bumped a wire or something in the trunk and disconnected the antenna. He hasn't had time to mess with it yet. If the car radio doesn't work, neither will the Sirius radio.
There are huge fields of wheat in Montana, and large herds of cattle, mostly Angus. The pastures don't look as though they could support livestock, but the cows and calves appeared healthy enough, although not as fat as the ones around home. The wheat straw had been rolled up into big bales, and Cliff kept wondering what anybody could possibly do with that much straw: It isn't good for feeding to livestock (no nutrition in it); it makes good bedding, but nobody could put that much straw to use as bedding. I Googled our question later on when we had Internet, and learned that paper can be made from straw. Perhaps that's where it was all going.