I’m Slowing Down

I’m slowing down. Yes, I am “older” and definitely not as active as I was a few years ago—or even a year ago—but this slowing down is in regard to my hopping around Montana and spending only a single night in most places. Maybe it is the luxury now of not having to hunt and seek places to stay, or maybe that the places I’m passing through have become more appealing to me, regardless, I am slowing down. I plan on spending more time in each spot, if possible, and being more leisurely with my time. I still won’t be staying weeks at-a-time in one place, as I will when my search for a new home begins, but days at-a-time are more likely.

One of the weirdest things to overcome the last couple of months was the feeling that I had to do something different, be someplace special, every day. I don’t think that most of us have that harried kind of rush at home—and Kairos and wherever I am parked are now my home. So, I can spend the day reading, or riding my bike through neighborhoods, or make phone calls and catch up with friends, or chat with folks parked next to me. The point is that life is what we make it and I don’t want mine to be an intense, frenzied effort to do it all. I have lots of resources that I look at to let me know of interesting things nearby, both cultural and natural features, and Yelp for good Mexican food restaurants. Hey! What more could I ask for? Well, good Mexican food restaurants for one.

VERY random observations:

m My first amorous adventures—and I use the term “adventures” loosely—proceeded not because of my piqued ardor or sexually inflamed teenage body. I remember dispassionately just wondering: “what is going to happen next?” The interest, the desire, to go on is still, but with more passion, based on: what is going to happen next?

m I do not meet the standard for folks staying in commercial RV parks. I do not have a dog. A couple, down the way, about my age, has 6 toy poodles in a 30-foot or so 5^th wheel.

m Railroad tracks . . . and trains. I haven’t really put much thought into them, unless I’m staying at my daughter, Jennifer’s, house. But I don’t believe that in the past two months I have ever been more than a few miles from a railroad track—a very used railroad track. And usually that was more like a few blocks—or feet.

m As I determine where and when to move on to this area or that, I have been using this website to help avoid wildfires and stay out of the way of critical assistance:    http://inciweb.nwcg.gov/0/           I highly recommend it for anyone interested in what is happening to our highly fire-vulnerable western lands. Clicking on a listed incident in the far left column will give you all kinds of details.

 m Twice, shortly after having been in a particular spot for a night, I have seen reports of grizzly bears having been there. The first was along the Sun River west of Great Falls; one of those fishing access spots in an out of the way rural, agricultural area (the photo was taken by people that lived a few miles down the river a couple of days after I had been there). The other report was of a sow and two cubs being trapped and removed from Francis Lake south of Cut Bank. This is a city park and even farther away from mountains.

  m If you are considering moving to Montana and wonder what business you could invest in, own, work for; I suggest a tire store. I have seen evidence of the predilection, presumably of teenagers, for weeks now, and only one actual performance. But the signs of this statewide form of entertainment show up on almost every road—some more than others, and some road sections seem to be favored for this “sport”. We used to call it “peeling out”. I don’t know what it is called now, but you begin with your car or truck at a standstill and then gun the engine with the brakes on, release the brakes and leave a trail of rubber behind. It appears that the more swerves and curves that you leave the better.

Isn’t life great! What happens next?