Uncle Ron, we're coming!

Monday, 25 October 2010 08:06

And on a beautiful morning, here we are! Today we are crossing the border. After having spent nearly 4 months (112 days, to be precise) in Canada, we felt like some changes. Actually everything seems to be the same (language, landscape, dollars, cow boys and First Nations), but we are happy to move to the next country. Perhaps by going slightly southward, we expected more friendly weather conditions?

Any way, we got next to the frontier post around 12. Before crossing, we had lunch with all our leftover "fresh” products since imports of vegetables, fruits, and wood, among other things, are prohibited. We still carry remains of crude carrots, we’ll see, maybe it'll lead to US-Canadian genetically-modified carrots!

“Anything to declare?” “Hum, no”. "Alright, come in and fill in the forms”.

About an hour later, we eventually get to the other side of the border with a visa valid until 31th December. We don’t undergo any body search (thanks Yves for the drug prescriptions!). We just have a trash bag hanging loosely behind my bike trailer, which nobody pays attention to. At least we’ll have something to eat tonight.

Further on, we enter the Blackfeet Indian territory. We planned getting to St Mary but it proved to be too far, the wind started blowing. We stop at Babb, a one-street village with crumbling building facades, a gas pump and a general store/motel still open, where we seek asylum. The lady owner offers us one of the huts located behind her motel. There is no need for mounting the tent and we can get some food from the store. The owners seem to be the only non-Natives. Some Natives stagger in the store, with banged up cars. We get installed in the hut, it’s more reassuring.

As we are leaving, the shop owners, just like many others before them, tell us not to sleepover in Browning, in the Indian Reservation, claiming it's too dangerous. Is that advice an expression of antipathy towards the Natives or a reality due to their situation, living on welfare? In any case, we can’t cross the entire reservation in one day, it’s too hard for us, lots of ups and downs, we go trough a 1900m pass and the villages are almost abandoned. Halfway we find an abandoned camping site, with dogs and horses being the only company. We then stop only to buy some things. The town is not beautiful, the sky is grey and a storm is brewing. A few drunken Natives come to us, we don’t understand much of what they say. Except one, who asks the head of the family for permission to bless our trip. After some incantations, we head towards the south.

We’re reaching the end of the reservation, just before a storm we can’t avoid: hail, wind and cold rain, just before the ranch entry. Matt and Stacy give us a huge hangar to sleep in, a 4-star hangar with hot showers and a kitchen. We don’t see anyone, they must be too busy. The following day, before leaving, we witness mass-production practices, with cowboys taking cows one by one to a jaw-like machine in order to give them injections. We didn’t really understand what they were doing but the kids were quite impressed. We then set off again, under a cold rain, surrounded by this landscape of yellow and uninhabited hills decorated with cows.

We stop at another ranch to spend the night in, smaller than the previous one, where Brian allow us to pitch the tents next to the hangar –later on, he would come and talk to us for a while.

The following day, we finally get to a bigger town, with bars, cinnamon rolls and a library. We took a stroll around for a while, which was all the more pleasurable as the sun was shining. We even had an interview with the local version of the Sun Times, which can be accessed here: http://www.fairfieldsuntimes.com/articles/2010/10/12/news/doc4cb4e4a430f5c592347145.txt

Further on, on the way, Janice and Dale, a retired couple, allow us to pitch our tents and offer us their bathroom. The following morning, we are even offered an authentic American breakfast in front of a bay-window, with the amazing colors of a sunset over the lake.

We want to get to Great Falls tonight since at the bar in Fairfield, we were told that snow was expected. We really need to go more southwards, but before that, we want to go the Yellowstone national park.

The road is flatter but we get the wind from the front and therefore we won’t be able to make it to Great Falls today. We knock a door of a house which differs from the others. We like it pretty much, the people who live in must be nice people. The house is round, surrounded by larches and plenty of small colorful birdhouses. Gary explains to us where we can mount our tents and comes back right afterwards to invite us for dinner. When we get in the house, Marian is cooking bread for ‘special guests’, she says. Gary show us around the house which he built on his own, Marian being in charge of the birdhouse construction. During the evening, Gary introduces us to his friends who just came up to surprise us. We attend a private concert of Barber shop harmony, a style of acapella music. Their band, of which Gary is a member, is called the 14th street quartet. And the surprises were not over yet! Our host was very interested in our trip and studied the map in detail with us. He proposed us a lift to West Yellowstone to allow us visit the park before it snows. No sooner said than done, he goes to prepare the recreational vehicle and the trail in order to carry the equipment.

The following morning, here we go, let’s go for a RV-ride! We easily drive up to 2000 meter-high. An engine makes it much easier!We’ll remember this amazing stop!

We are now at the West Yellowstone campground asking for tent site. We are strongly recommended not to sleep in a tent as a male grizzly bear is hanging around the campground. Whether it be true or not, we don’t insist further and sleep in a hut for two nights. At least we avoid feeling cold and get protected the evening’s wind and snowy rain. We have to admit that sleeping under a roof is pretty pleasant. And the much talked about bear finally came the following day, starving, to dismount the trash cans while we were sleeping like the blessed, in safety in our hut…

Have fun

MC

Translated from French by Samuel and Jacques