Snap Your Fingers Missoula

On Saturday night outside the door I found a suspicious package. My first instinct was to dispose of it as far away as I could in a metal container. My second instinct was "if you see something, say something" fucking MTA. I didn't listen to common sense, and I didn't listen government scare tactics. I opened it. Inside were a series of cards. "To Compliment the unique location and heighten your experience, PITCH kindly requests that you: SNAP YOUR FINGERS! rather than clap your hands" along with a photo of a boy running, his hat blown from his head. I checked around to see if there was more, if this was part of something more significant. Not a thing. After shaking off the feeling that I was about to uncover something from CSI: MONTANA I snapped this photograph. I was supposed to make a stop in Kellogg, Idaho tomorrow night. But I'm gonna investigate a little in Missoula, stick around and see if anything else pops up. If you see something let me know.

Those Darn Clerics

Last night after the meeting, I went to this place I'm told is the quintessential Missoula experience. It's called the Union Club. This band called Tom Catmull and the Clerics were playing. Wow, that drummer was sweet. He was rockin his shit. Couple beers later I was feelin like a... I think they say "Missoulian." Goodness, I'm already startin to talk a little bit like one. There was this one song about a dude who hit and killed a couple girls with his truck on their way to a party. Apparently some lawyers are pissed because the jurors in the case have heard the song and they say it's destroying their objectivity in the case. Damn straight it is! And it ought to be. Reminds me why I have to keep working. Have to keep rocking. Shit doesn't change on its own damn will.

Good Morning Butte

I spent last night in Butte. Woke up this morning to the most amazing snow. It's beautiful with the blue sky mixed with the snow now. I'd always wanted to see the Berkeley copper pit out here. It's simultaneously horrendous and amazing. Thinking of the history in it. The work. The tragedy. It's good to be on the road after a little reprieve in Cody the last couple days. I think I got sick from the party in Silt. Now the Montana kick. It's an enormous state, but luckily there's only about two towns I need to hit on this stretch. This afternoon I'm driving to Missoula. I've always wanted to see Missoula. I hear Hemingway kicked it there for a while. I've already gotten tips on the road of which bars to frequent, and which ones to steer clear. Also, everyone keeps blabbering on about this Rattlesnake wilderness area. If it's not too snowy I guess I'll check that out. Shit. Life gets dull when you're not blowing shit up. It's like the other 97% is spent picking out what to eat for breakfast and then not finishing it when it comes. I hope Butte has better breakfasts than Cody. I guess I'll find out when this waiter finally stops by the table. Today, just eggs.

Rawhide Coffee!

I'm home in Cody, Wyoming for a night before heading off into Montana. Enjoyed Colorado, but honestly, glad to have moved on. That state is a bit intense, even for me. It feels wonderful enjoying a fresh latte at Rawhide Coffee. If you've never been it's an absolute must. It's over on Sheridan Ave, and boy do they love their moose heads. As nice as it is to be home for a visit, it doesn't feel like home anymore. It hasn't for a while. It's almost like it betrayed me. If a place can do that. I don't know that I've ever entirely trusted a person, but I almost unknowingly invested a blind trust in Cody, and it turned its back on me. I don't know where I'll go. I suppose I'll figure that out once I'm off the road. For now, it's just a stop. Another leg of the journey that just so happened to have the best damn coffee joint I ever dreamed of. As the road trip nears a conclusion I can't help but imagine what tomorrow might be like, and the next day. It's inspiring and horrifying in alternating visions - the idea of walking into the unknown. Yeah, each stop is new, but so long as I'm on this journey, it seems okay. Maybe I'll just stay on the road. If you never stop, you never have to wonder what's next. Just keep trucking.

Bombs and Booze

Boy were we having a party last night! The hosts had some beer for our meeting in their old detached garage, and folks had a good time. I would usually say be careful when you mix your beer and liquor, and never mix your beer with explosives. But having had a little hint of it, so long as you don't light the explosives, and drink responsibly, I don't see why the combination can't be brilliant bloody idea. We sure were rockin and rollin all night long. I wind up getting dragged to a bunch of church services on the road (a.k.a. this morning!), and let me tell you, the churches in Colorado take the cake. Especially this morning in Silt. The spirit most definitely moves them. I think the church is onto something. That spirit can get you stoked on just about anything I bet. I think I'll play around with some sermons and see if they don't make badass intros for a meeting or two next week. I recorded the sermon at services this morning on my handy recorder, so maybe I can rework it over the next few days. I think I'm gonna take it easy. The whole trip has exhausted me. I don't think I felt it until yesterday. All the wear and tear just sort of snuck up... and boom! I think another beer or two tonight might be what the doctor ordered. Thank you Silt!

Still Driving

I was scheduled to stop in Taos, New Mexico today, but I just can't seem to get off the road. I can't take having to stare at those faces. Not today. I think the driving will do me good. I'll pass through the San Juan National Forrest, and then tomorrow I'll stop in Montrose, Colorado. I hope things will be better. I tell myself it's just seasonal affective disorder. It probably is. I heard they covered it in the newspaper up in Montana today. It could become an issue if too many people find out, but I heard it was tucked away in a column on page three. Nobody reads a column on page three, so we should be okay. Kind of amazing when you think about it. Something that can be right in front of your nose, right in front of everybody's nose, but not loud enough against all the noise to catch a single person's attention. Sometimes the best hiding place is in broad daylight. Every stretch of highway is starting to look exactly the same.

They Sing Sometimes

It's been a long weekend, and I've been pretty rural so it's been challenging to hook up to the web and journal. But nonetheless, I have an exciting, if strange, revelation to share. It's wild, but some of these groups have songs they sing together. Sometimes informally like a jam, and sometimes they seem more collected - more polished. It's amazing how it seems to bring them together. I guess that shouldn't be a surprise, what with the way rock stars create these virtually singular realities in a concert. Regardless, it seems to make them reach beyond smaller differences, and to find common ground toward larger aims. Neat shit. I arrived in Odessa, Texas this afternoon. I have a good feeling about this place. We're meeting in someone's laundry room... of all places. But they say it's a big one. Nowhere but Texas, right? I pulled up at the motel a few minute ago, and I'm on my way out to enjoy the pool! Score one for Odessa!

The Garage in Pine Bluff

You ever notice how's the a kinetic feeling in a garage. Something magnetic like it's a holding cell for the brute force of horsepower. Last night we had to shake a group that got tipped off that we might be meeting in a basement just out side of downtown in Pine Bluff, Arkansas. We were stranded outside, and we saw an empty garage, so we just went inside, shut the mechanical door, and felt shielded by this odd sensation power in this little cube. The meeting was phenomenal. Somehow the unity of finding that garage and the security it had built up around us and we were off like a speeding bullet. I'll miss it there. The whole ordeal meant I had to find somewhere else to sleep, and I was so thankful I had my camping hammock. Found a couple trees off the road, hidden away a couple feet, and slept straight through the night. I felt the sun peaking out early this morning, and now I'm back on the road. Tomorrow: Texas.

The Biggest Strawberry Ever

You ever notice how the best part of making something is taking it apart? You cook a wonderful dinner, and the satisfaction is in devouring it bit by bit. You make a Lego tower (you're never too old!), and the most satisfying moment is when you deliver that crushing blow that sends the tower to pieces. I've always had this idea that one day I could find some abandoned house that was ready to be torn down, and take a baseball bat to it. Just rip straight through the walls, the windows, the floor. I think it's a natural instinct. I think it has something to do with the growth cycle of farms and even forests. The wildfires are necessary for the new trees to not be overcrowded and have room to grow. It's like the first step to building is tearing down.

I'm in Loxley, Alabama today, home of the Baldwin County Strawberry Festival. Check out this huge strawberry. Again, the food was awesome here. I have to saw, I'm enjoying the house meetings. The  dinners are a whole step up from restaurants. Nothing like some authentic home cooked comfort food.