When Montana Calls

Last week was long and a scorcher, so by the weekend the family and I were itching to take the motorhome on a day trip. The beast on wheels had been neglected for some time and whenever Joe hasn’t driven it for a while, he gets a bit antsy. Saturday morning we woke up early (albeit, not early enough for Joe, ha!), loaded up the two kids, three dogs, bottled water, and a few snacks, and hit the open road.

Our first stop was pre-planned (as in, planned about 9 o’clock the evening prior). Some friends of ours have property near Spokane, we knew they were headed to it, and what better way to social distance than in the quiet woods? The drive was pretty and Joe expertly filled the role of both driver and DJ; keeping us safe on the winding roads while finding all the good tunes. And the kids … well, someone filled them in that Trump was trying to take away Tik Tok, so they spent the four-hour trek to the property binge-watching videos with a vengeance.

When we reached the property, the driveway was a bit rough, but we made it without getting stuck (an improvement from our previous voyage). The motorhome did receive a few more scratches from the overgrown pine trees, but I figure scratches are like badges of honor; they demonstrate the RV is getting used.

We visited for an hour or so. We had a really great time, but good gravy it was hot! In my head I figured the tree cover would keep us cool. Instead, it seemed to trap in all the heat and we were smothered in a blanket of humidity. Let’s just say, if I didn’t like these friends of ours, I probably would have only lasted twenty minutes. But, since they’re some of our besties, their company was almost enough to make me forget the heat. Almost. The kids on the other hand didn’t seem to notice the humid conditions. They tromped through woods with the dogs in tow, their precious Tik Tok videos forgotten, at least temporarily.

While we enjoyed our brief time, eventually heat and hunger prevailed, so we all drove to a nearby town to get pizza at our favorite spot. The pizza had to be “to go” of course, so we picked it up, then drove to a nearby park to eat it. The park was a bit … I’ll just say, sketch, so we had to keep an eagle eye on the kids while we ate. Our kids were clueless about their surroundings, which was both sweet and alarming. After consuming all the soda and WAY too much pizza, us adults turned to casual conversation while the kids ran off to play. They must have misheard us when we told them NOT to play on the playground equipment on the other side of the park (surely they wouldn’t have deliberately disobeyed us, right?), because we looked up and there they were, spinning happily on the rickety old merry-go-round, directly in front of the van that appeared to be serving as someone’s temporary home. Now us four adults had a dilemma. We were all tired from the drive (aka suffering from an overindulgence of pop and pizza) but somebody needed to run over and save the kids. Thus ensued a few moments of a parental game of chicken where us four adults sort of stared at each other and wondered which one of us was going to step up as a parent and go rescue our oblivious children. Confession … the other mom ran over there first. I was getting up, to be sure… she was just faster. 😉 #parentfail

Crisis avoided and kids wrangled back into the vehicles, we said goodbye to our friends and believed we were headed home. We hadn’t really packed to spend the night and we were all a bit exhausted from the heat. As we pulled away from the decrepit park, Joe cranked up the air conditioning and the tunes and the kids were sucked back into their phones.

Only minutes later, refreshed by the AC, Joe and I decided to take an alternate, more scenic route home. As I stared out the window, I was taken in by the thick trees and rolling hills. I snapped several photos from the window of the moving RV, daydreaming about future trips. Finally, I said aloud, “You know, I’ve never been to Montana. One of our next trips, we should go.”

Joe looked down at the map on the GPS and said, “You know, it’s actually not that far. We could go today and still be back home tomorrow.”

He was half kidding, of course. But I looked over at him, our eyes locked, and we both grinned. Then, we fist bumped in unspoken agreement, Joe changed our destination in the GPS, and we were off. Kids were, again, clueless. About an hour down the road, Joe said, “So, we’re really doing this? We’re going to Montana?”

I nodded, yes.

“We’re going to Montana?” my eldest piped up from the back seat.

To which I responded, “Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner.”

The drive through Idaho was also gorgeous. Luscious greenery, the sun setting over Lake Coeur d’Alene. Several times we yelled for the kids to look out the window at the impressive views. They humored us, but they didn’t have the same appreciation. Surprise, surprise; I took more pictures with my phone. As we were nearing the border to Montana, I thought I had my phone ready but alas the border snuck up on me and I missed taking a picture of the state’s welcome sign. In my defense, it was sort of a small sign.

So now it’s getting late, we’ve made it to Montana – but now what? In a few short miles our questions were answered when we saw a large billboard for free RV parking. FREE! So we drove another few miles to check out the seems too good to be true offer. Well, to our pleasant surprise, just sixteen miles into the great state of Montana, in a little town called Haugan, is something called the 50,000 Silver Dollar. There’s a sizeable souvenir and gift shop, a café, a casino, an Inn, and yes, a large place to park RVs for free. We pulled in, confirmed with one of the other RVers that we could indeed just park anywhere in that lot – free of charge and no check-in necessary. It was fantastic. We picked a spot, parked, then Joe and my eldest set off on foot to check out the café. It was open late and they ordered hot sandwiches and chicken baskets to go. And I get that we were all half-starved, but like the free parking, the food was also fantastic.

The next morning we roused the kids from sleep with promises of more food from the café. This time we went in to enjoy a hot breakfast. Masks were required until seated, of course, but it was lovely to experience a meal that was both prepared and served. Things almost felt normal again. The restaurant owners did a nice job of spacing out the guests, so not only was everyone well over 6’ apart, but we didn’t have to hear anyone else’s conversations. My kiddos giggled the entire meal as they recapped their favorite Tik Tok videos. Admittedly, many are funny and clever. But some of them … ugh … I guess I’m too old to get the lingo.

While telling us about one such video, my eldest was laughing so hard tears were streaming down her face as she told us, “He was speaking in cursive.”

I’m like, “I have no idea what that means.”

When the food arrived (and arrived quickly), it did not disappoint. Huckleberry hot cakes, mouthwatering French toast, plump sausage links, crispy bacon; oh my word, we were all in heaven. And good gracious, did we ever put away the food!

After breakfast, bellies uncomfortably full but well-satisfied, we surveyed the gift shop and picked up several trinkets. Just like in the restaurant, the staff at the store were very friendly. I see why the owner would want RVers to stay for free. Once you’re there, the place sucks you in. We loved it – and will definitely be back.

Not wanting to get home too late, with both of us needing to work the next day, we did only a minor amount of sightseeing and picture taking in Montana. Half the dream was just getting there. But for the little bit we did venture through, I was gushing and grinning. I was a bit surprised when I felt legit tears slide down my cheeks (I’m afraid I take after my mother). I’m not sure why Montana has been so high on my list for so many years, but finally getting to realize that dream was a bit overwhelming. On our brief tour, I found a 20-acre stretch of property for sale, complete with a cabin and a pond. Joe pulled to the side of the road and I jumped out of the RV so I could snap photos of the property and the ‘For Sale’ sign with the phone number. You know, in case we had won the lottery and just didn’t know it yet; then we could purchase that beautiful property as a second home (goals!).

After leaving Montana and venturing back into Idaho, we stopped to take photos of a beautiful, historical mission as well as a snapshot of the sign for the town of Wallace. This town holds a special, humorous memory because once upon a time my mother convinced our family to tour a museum that had once been a brothel. And when I say our family, I’m talking, my siblings, our spouses, and any children we had at the time. “It’s history,” she’d told us. We were all wide-eyed and educated after that tour. And no, we’ve never let her live it down. I sent a group family text of the sign for a good laugh.

Okay, so we’re continuing on our drive through Idaho, headed back towards home… Now, days before the trip, and several times during our drive the previous day, my eldest daughter kept mentioning this grandiose house she’d found for sale in Post Falls. She let us know in no uncertain terms that, once she moved out and became a doctor, she was buying that 5-acre, $3.7 million lakefront home (I guess she takes after me – thus, the property for sale that I photographed in Montana). When my daughter realized we were heading back towards Post Falls, she asked if we could drive by the house. By the way, in the meantime she’d researched the surrounding neighborhood and local schools (since she’d be raising her children there, obviously). A bit charmed by how serious she was that she would indeed purchase this place some day (we may have told her the skies the limit for you a few too many times), we agreed to find the place. We punched the address into the GPS. With all the artificial intelligence built into those GPS apps these days, I’m surprised the voice prompt didn’t call us out on how wishy-washy we’d been with our destinations, but alas, it did not.

When we reached the monster-sized/monster-priced house, my eldest and I scrambled out of the RV to take pictures. She even took a video and sent it to her friends. Joe and I were laughing at how serious she continued to be about this future purchase. After doing the math on how many years she had until she completed high school, undergraduate school, medical school, then her residency (before she started to make some real money, in her opinion) our daughter was a bit shocked, albeit, still not deterred. I playfully suggested that if my book sales took off some day, perhaps I could purchase the home for her until she was ready. She turned me down, flat. She would be buying it, she let me know.

Montana checked off my list of things to see, and viewing that over-the-top mansion checked off my eldest’s list, we officially headed home (no more detours). Dogs and kids piled on the motorhome couch and slept the remainder of the way. Joe and I chatted and listened to music. I sang along while being thankful that Joe is a bit deaf because if I had to listen to myself singing for hours on end from just one seat away, I’d probably push me right out the passenger side door. We dumped and parked the RV, I gave it a thorough scrubbing, and it now sits in our driveway, ready for our next adventure.

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