The return to Highway 2

Saturday morning I bade farewell to Diane, the kind and considerate host (I'm assuming owner? I never think to ask these things until it's too late) of the Cabinet Gorge RV Park. It was a really nice place to take a break, clean and quiet, with showers and a laundromat. It is beautiful, and there are enough trees and bushes to give it more of a campgroundy feel than an RV parky vibe. For anyone who would like to visit, it is located about one third of a mile down a dirt road from the junction of 200 and 56 near Noxon, MT. (www.cabinetgorgervpark.com, email cgrvp@blackfoot.net)

56 is gorgeous. It follows a river, skirting some mountains and cutting through the Kootenai National Forest. There isn't much of a shoulder here, either, but it seems like a little more than on 200, and there is less traffic. The vehicles also seem to drive a bit more slowly and carefully, since this road is twistier and has more wildlife. I keep expecting to see the senile/sadistic biker drive by, pointing and laughing at me for taking his advice, but so far this hasn't happened.

I scared up a deer, who bounded alongside the road just ahead of me for a bit, before crossing over and running into the woods. I kept thinking, "If you're trying to get away from me, you should run in a different direction. But if you're trying to give me a good look at your pretty white tail, well done!"

Many hiking trails, campgrounds and recreation areas beckon to me on 56. It's tempting to pull off the road for a hike and then camp for the night, but 56 is only 36 miles long from 200 back to 2, and my plan is to get back on 2 today. If you don't stick with the plan, you get burned. Friday, for example: I was sunbathing when Anna called me. The sun felt so nice and relaxing, and it was such a good chat, I stayed in the sun for one full rotation longer than I planned to. And I got burned. Not too bad, just a bit pinker than I should be. But still.

I've seen a lot of Ron Paul for president signs out here. In fact, I can't recall seeing a single one for any other candidate. If Montana ran the country, there would be some serious changes all up in here!

I stop off at the rest stop at the junction of 2 and 56, and fill up my water. Now I am flexible about where I camp. I swear this is only the second rest stop I've seen on this trip. Can that be right?

Onward to 2, with it's huge, smooth shoulders. Vin Diesel has nothing on this highway. I ride a little ways, then stop to wander around at Kootenai Falls. I'm kinda hoping I can camp here, but there's a sign that says "No overnight camping." I cansider hanging out until it's closer to sunset, then just putting up a tent in the woods, because who will notice? And if they do, who would kick me out? But I have a hard time breaking posted rules, and I feel refreshed after the walk, so I move on.

The next town, Libby, is at least another ten miles, maybe a little more, and it is a bigger town, so I don't really want to stay there. I'm running out of both steam and daylight, and don't really want to push myself that far then ask about camping and be told to go even further. I check out a few roadside spots, but they are all either not flat enough or too exposed to the road and train tracks. Finally I see a hiking/mountain biking trail, so I push my bike up that a little ways and camp on a wide spot beside the trail. I'm sure I broke some sort of hiker rule, but I'm tired. I'll have to admit, I'm a little freaked out by the thought of bears. I tied my food and scented toiletry products up in a tree, but I *am* delicious. I think I'll look for a less wildernessy place to camp tomorrow.

Sunday: I barely slept last night. I mostly just listened to trains and every other noise while clutching my ASP and trying to doze. For some reason, each train that passes by this spot honks exactly four times, twice before and twice after they pass me. It's interesting, to my sleep deprived brain, to hear the Doppler effect of how the horn sounds coming and going.

I get out of there as early as I can, with just a snack, because I'm craving eggs and want breakfast in Libby. As I ride into town, I'm kinda glad I didn't come in last night, to sleep in an RV park in the suburbs. Although I might have actually slept. Oh well, there's always tonight. I'm starving and cold (it's raining) when I see the magical words: "Sunday breakfast buffet." Heck, yeah! I load up on fruit and eggs without even stopping in the bathroom to wash my hands. I feel like Dirty Larry. I haven't had eggs since May 14. Yum. I can't resist taking a sliver of ham, too.

Cell reception on 2 is spottier than I had hoped it would be. Maybe it's better on the flat side of the state... Anywho, the posting will be kinda random for awhile. I'll try to keep up the story as I go along, and then post when I hit a large population center with reception.

(the CIA isn't necessary, seattlenaturelover has revealed his identity to me. But thanks!)