Midnight at the Oasis

Adventures! So Saturday morning we left Bozeman, none too soon because it was oddly pretentious, and the attitude we were getting from some of the residents was giving me the rage. We stopped in Columbus, MT for lunch. Columbus was on fire. Not all of it, but there was a huge wild fire going to town on a parched mountain off the highway. The pine trees looked petrified. (ha ha). Columbus is a teeny tiny town, population of like, fifty, four of whom were in the "steak house" we stopped at. There was a Father and Daughter at one table across from us, and behind them were two men. They all knew each other, and were chatting, and Lizzie and I eavesdropped as we nommed our delicious burgers. When Dad (who was about 75) went to go to the bathroom, we learned from Daughter that she was upset because her Dad had taken up with the local ho, Modine. Apparently Modine was having Dad drive her around, and even drove Dad's truck without a license! Shame on you, Modine! Daughter is trying to get Dad to leave his apartment and move to assisted living to get away from that tramp. God speed, daughter. On another important note, the young man acting as manager of the "steak house" had a giantic belt buckle on that said "Git R Done", which was magical.

We escaped Columbus (and that ho, Modine) and made it to Wyoming. We drove into Cody, which is an adorable little western town named after, of course, Buffalo Bill Cody. Here you could buy a pair of cowboy boots for the low, low price of $3500, try on some chaps, and drink your iced coffee so fast you get a stomach ache. Guess which one of the three Lizzie and I did? After Cody we made our way to Meeteetse, as an author Lizzie fancies (Craig Johnson) was giving a reading.

Meeteetse is another teeny little town, population 350, on the Greybull river. It boasts two motels, the one we stayed at being the above pictured "Oasis" (the other was "Vision Quest". Yikes). Also within its one-block downtown is a couple of restaurants, and an oddly out of place fancy chocolate/coffee shop, called "The Chocolatier", where the reading was.

The Chocolatier is apparently a big deal, and is run by a rather fetching cowboy looking chap, though he seemed a little too into his own big-fish-in-little-pond status. The reading was fun, the author a good story teller, and very charming. We met his wife, who is, oddly, from Connecticut, and who went to Wellesley College. One of the characters in Craig Johnson's books is a woman who swears like a sailor, and that particular trait is based on his wife. Us New Englanders like to cuss.

After the reading, we went to the gas station/convenience store to pick some stuff up, and the clerk asked us if we were staying at one of the ranches. We said no, and she said "Apparently two English girls took a puppy from around the corner" and we were bemused that she thought us English. Then we were like "Who takes a puppy?" Anyway, there wasn't time to dwell, as the Cowboy Bar/Restaurant across the street was calling us. It requires its own post...