portland. where they still put fresh flowers on the table in coffee shops. the gift shops and chick sports stores are filled with just the cutest darn things. I never notice how many things I have learned to live without in the back roads, dirt roads of montana. here I am over whelmed by the sheer quantity of choice. and the number of people, where you can park, camp and let your dog run around. I haven’t even made it to portland yet. I am lingering on the outskirts.

moose and I slept in the canopy for the first time. wish I had a paco pad, but damn I slept good. didn’t get up until around ten. the sun was up, the river was roaring and I enjoyed living this life again.

I took the long way here. wasn’t in any hurry. took the long way to missoula, through Virginia City and pipestone pass. kissing my good byes all the way out of the amazing state of montana. I may have cried a little when fan mountain and lone peak disappeared from the rearview mirror. spent a night with friends in missoula. wallowed in Wallace, ID, took a side road that led me to some radical abandoned mills, eery as fuck. what a strange place Wallace is. wanted to stop at the Old Mission Church, thought about praying, but blew by. made it to Hood River for dinner at the brewery.

here I am, in Oregon. I so don’t want to be, I am missing montana. I miss the peace and quiet of my home town. the cotton woods, gravel bar and gravel roads. I wanna go fishing.