We've been cruising at a mean pace across the nation and soaked up (literally, it's rained every day) all we can. I'm posting now from the funky and beautiful Missoula, Montana; think Northampton, MA on steroids - or maybe something a little more psychedelic.
It's a liberal bastion here and from the semi-crazy sweatpants wearing man telling Jordan and I tales of his rock n' roll days while we sipped PBRs outside a burrito shop, to a pair of free spirited dancers grooving along to live music at Out to Lunch (basically a Taste of Missoula that we were lucky to find), to all the summer-dress wearing, puppy toting ex-hippies and college students, this city has some intense and funky vibes.
Okay, we need to get back on the road, but first here's a quick look at some of what we've seen so far (in reverse order):
It wouldn't be Yellowstone without a Bison Backup.
God may have stopped by Missoula to pick up some happy pills before he created the absolute masterpiece that is the Grand Tetons.
It rained contantly and the bears, elk and moose did not show themselves, but the backcountry of Yellowstone proved a beautiful and calming area on an otherwise rapid race to the Pacific Ocean.
President Horwitz?
The Badlands have no mountains to inspire - they do not need them.
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