Big Sky Country

WEST YELLOWSTONE, Montana -- There are only a few of these united states that I have not yet been to. Montana is the first of three that we will be traveling through over the remainder of our trip.

I must say it is spectacular. It has all the forest, lake and mountain grandeur of Colorado, but without all the schmaltzy (but tolerable) western touristy gift shop type stuff. Sure, it has some of that, too, but not in nearly the same quantities. That probably has something to do with there being so few people out here.

Montana is ranked as the fourth largest state (behind Alaska, Texas and California) but with less than one million people calling Montana home, it has the third lowest population density. I'm not sure how the math works out but it seems like one person for every hundred thousand miles or so.

Regardless, there's a lot of room to spare. Taking up much of that room, at least on the western side of the state, are the mountains. If the Rockies are the backbone of the country, Montana is its right shoulder. Apparently there are no fewer than 77 named mountain ranges in Montana jutting out of the Rockies as they climb their way up into Canada.

All this is pretty convenient considering Montana means "mountain" in Spanish. We drove until almost midnight last night those mountains. It was easy and comfortable, much of the time with the road all to ourselves. Not long after nightfall, as the Heart of Gold swayed gently along the highway, a full moon rose over the undulating ridgeline, the mountains rising like gently rolling waves around, making me feel in those moments much more aboard ship than elephant.

Just as I began to feel tired, Lolo National Forest appeared as the next exit with easy docking for our vessel. We were up again with the rising sun with the kids still sleeping as we slipped back into the current this morning, passing through some of the most awesome scenery yet. At one point, I watched a bird of prey, I am almost sure it was a Bald Eagle, rising aloft not far in front of me with a fish in its talons still dripping from the mountain river it was just snapped from.

As we crossed over more of those 77 ranges today we were reminded of our homeward baring, once again crossing over the Continental Divide. We made it to this the western entrance to Yellowstone National Park by around 2 pm. The Marley and the kids are swimming as I write. We will rest and play for the rest of the day, perhaps later going into town in search of some of those elusive schmaltzy gift shops.

Early tomorrow, we hope again with the rising sun (and of course assuming the starter still works), we will begin our foray into Yellowstone and later that afternoon arrive at the fair havens of Scott and Deborah's ranch.