Broke

Location: Great Falls, Montana
Internet: Free and good
Satisfaction level with location: two thumbs down

Yesterday morning I asked my dad to take a picture of me with my bike.

"It says turn off and back on again," he said after I handed him my camera. Weird, I thought. I waited for him to reboot the thing and continued posing.

"It still says it. Is that as far as the lens comes out?"

I put my bike down and went over to examine the digital device. Something was wrong. We tried turning it off and on again, but the lens wouldn't come out the full way. Then we noticed a piece of rubber sticking out from one of the rims.

"I don't think that's supposed to be doing that," Dad said. No, I very much do not think it is supposed to be doing that either. I was crestfallen. That was the camera my parents gave me for my birthday just six months ago. Perhaps it would be taken care of on warranty, or perhaps the warranty would be void since I dropped it at the Ex two weeks ago and cracked the casing on the bottom. Big fat boo. I would be using my mom's little pocket camera for the rest of the trip, I guessed.

We got on the road at 8:30 and bumped along until we had to stop for gas at a tiny little town called Roy. It had one gas station, no traffic lights, and probably a population of 12. The woman at the gas station was chatty, and commented to Dad that she was getting used to living in "Bum F*&$ Montana". We made haste to leave after making some road-side sandwiches.

As we started to climb in elevation, the motorhome developed a dangerous fever. My dad was ready to pull in to the next town with a campground and call it a day. Seeing that the next few places on the map were roughly the size of Roy, and that our original goal for the day was to make it to Great Falls, population 60,000 (read: big enough for a shopping centre) I said a little prayer for us to make it to our original destination.

So we limped into Great Falls last night around 7:00 pm. My mom and I hit the grocery/booze store for dinner and refreshments and we pulled into camp. We would be overnighting in an R.V. park, which are never much to look at but often have plenty of ammenties.

This morning my dad decided to call a repair shop to look at the radiator. His voice over IP program was not dialing in so he was just about ready to break down and pay the extreme cost of using his Canadian cell phone when I remembered I had a Google phone number. In fact, Google had been sending me polite nudges to let me know that if I didn't use my Google phone account in the next few days they would close my account. Luckily, my Google Voice worked and he was able to make a few calls to different mechanics until he found one who would take us in.

The new plan for the day then was to pay for another night in the RV park and get the motorhome fixed. I used the extra time in town to explore the bike path for a bit before meeting up with my mom to do some shopping.

After a great ride to nearly the end of the trail, I found my way to the mechanic's shop. Mom and I got a lift to the mall to spend the afternoon browsing.

The population is large enough to warrant the usual shops and a Starbucks on every other corner, but instead they've got casinos at every turn. They do have a J.C. Penny, a Victoria's Secret and Bath and Bodyworks, but no Macy's, no T.J. Maxx/Marshall's, Gap, or even a Super Target. And the stores that they do have are pretty small and limited in their offerings. Based on what I saw, I don't know where you shop after the age of 19 and before the age of 55 in this town. I would guess they do a lot of Internet shopping.

by 4:00 I was hungry and exhausted of the place. I put hope in my heart that we would meet up with my dad and he would tell us that the foo-foo regulator or whatever was fixed and we would be on our way to Missoula, Montana, which promised much better camping and shopping.

It was not to be. A part had to be ordered and the diagnosis of the issue was not entirely certain. Worst of all, it is looking like we will be spending ANOTHER night in this place. This place being known now as Cranky Town. I don't want to be here, and for different reasons, my dad does not either.

I am trying to tell myself there is some grand reason for us being stuck here.

1. It could have been Roy, MT
2. Perhaps a very large shipment of totally awesome shoes and cool clothes has also been delayed in its arrival to Missoula
3. The American money I purchased at 2:30 AM last Friday will not actually burn a hole in my pocket, and will still be good to purchase the copious amounts of booze needed to endure this place for as long as we need to be held here.

Excuse me, I have to get out of here now. My father is adopting the local lifestyle and has tuned into Ice Road Truckers on the TV. The only place to hide in here though when you need to shut the world out is the bathroom. Perhaps I will spend the rest of my stay here washing my hair and watching my leg hair grow.