Montana's landscape is an almost painfully beautiful geological confluence.
It's the last day of September and we don't know where we're heading, but we're ready to leave hotels behind and be back in camp.
They don't call it Big Sky Country for nothing.
The navigator proposes we get off the interstate on Montana 1 and point it toward Anaconda and Georgetown Lake, where our map shows a cluster of campsites (and speaking of clusters, is the country still funded tonight?).
Tioga outside Yosemite.They'll store the rig near Las Vegas and return next year to do another tour.
Drying out wet Bozeman gear in the late afternoon sun
We're still working the (well-chilled) rotisserie chicken we got back in Missoula. Tonight's dinner: torn chicken breast sauteed with garlic, tomatoes, mushrooms, oregano, spinach, and onion.
With a few shots of fish sauce to liven it up. Have you noticed that one-pan meals are a camper's dream?
Eaten out of steaming bowls next to the campfire, with hot tea and bourbon on the side, a wholly sustaining meal. And then magic: snow flakes float down on us, gathering gently in the folds of our tarp on the picnic table and melting on the hot coals of the fire. This is why we camp.