Nope. We really don't normally do this. This is an exception. We left Waterton at 9:30 AM and drove all danged day. We pulled into Camp Fortunate at 6:30 PM. If my math is right, that's a 9 hour driving day and danged close to 400 miles. Nope, We really don't do this.
But it happened. Somehow we thought we were going to camp at Eureka Reservoir near Choteau (pronounced “SHOW-dough”). Well, we blew into Show-Dough for lunch. So we proceeded on, as Meriwether Lewis was once often wont to say. Then we thought we might camp at Holter Lake (which is actually The Missouri River masquerading as a reservoir between Helena & Great Falls). Well, we blew right on past Holter and were blowing through Helena on I-15 at 2:30 PM.
And then we dived deep down into the nitty, dirty, gritty of Montana's current dense fire smoke, turning off I-15 at Boulder. Boulder, Montana, is about as far as you can get from anything resembling Boulder, Colorado. But maybe they could be Sister Cities...or something...together. Boulder, Colorado, would probably consider Boulder, Montana, the way people do their crazy uncle at Family Reunions. But we digress.
Anyway, we headed south on The Jefferson River of Lewis & Clark Fame toward Twin Bridges where L&C made a fortunate decision to follow what's now known as The Beaverhead River to what's now known as Matt Dillon, Montana. No, it's not Matt Dillon but I couldn't help myself. Forgive me.
Anyway, we reached the Forks Of The Jefferson where The Big Hole and The Beaverhead come together and give their blessing to the creation of The Jefferson. That's when I Hit-The-Wall. I simply couldn't even imagine driving another mile trying to keep our rig betweeen the fog lines. We were stopped at a small town-owned rest area right in the middle of Twin Bridges, Montana. Right across the road, the Madison County Fair began today and much hub-bub, swirling dust and scurrying children were taking place over there.
We asked The Woman Who Cleans Toilets at the rest area if it was OK to spend the night there and she said, “Sure, I don't think anyone will mind.” Well, we hung around pondering her statement and after about 20 minutes, we were revived and headed on down to the Bureau of Reclamation Clark Canyon Recreation Area about 20 miles south of Matt Dillon, Montana. Wait, wait, I meant Dillon.
We got here just after a huge storm cell had hit. The skies were clearing from the west and we drove up the hill to one of THE Most Sacred sites of the entire L&C Epic Journey. Camp Fortunate is Karma personified. There's simply nothing else like it in the epic annals of that epic trip. If you had to pick one single spot to visit to begin to appreciate the epicness of their journey, it would be Camp Fortunate.
Well, it sure is Camp Fortunate for us, too, today because I swear I could not have driven ONE MORE MILE.
We don't normally do this. Honestly, we don't.
And now we're only 125 miles from our Idahome and we'll be there before lunch. Maybe we should pull in for some fish tacos at Mi Pueblo? What do you think, Sweetie Susun?
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