I’m afraid to say that this route was not the most exciting trip we have ever taken – like if it wasn’t for the wind, would there be anything to talk about?
Montana was the same old – same old until we found a pull-off on the road just before the huge metropolis of Moore, Montana (population approximately 200).
The Montana Bale Trail
The Montana Bale Trail is the route from Hobson to Utica to Windham, Montana. The premier event is the WHAT THE HAY contest: a display of whimsical, cleverly decorated and sculpted hay along the 22 mile route. http://www.montanabaletrail.com/
The fields are filled with cattle and most of them are black. What ever happened the the brown and white Herefords? We were told that there is no such thing as Black Angus cattle – it is merely a product name - any black cow is considered a Black Angus.
We wandered back and forth between fall and winter – green fields and just harvested hay bales to fields prepared for the impending winter onslaught.
It's Tuesday, we must be in Wyoming
Wyoming - a place that makes you want to get on a horse and ride to the end of the world: Vast yellow-grey-beige fields with a single black cow eating in the middle of the nowhere field; cliffs that hide ancient dwellings carved into the timeless rock.
It was a beautiful day: sunshine and unending blue skies. We travelled on the top of the world – nothing but blue skies above us.
Wooden snow fences stripe the endless rolling fields getting reading for the invasion of snow, wind and cold (long narrow straight boards leaning at 45 degree angles and propped up by rows of triangular supports)
The streaked clouds stretched across the sky forewarning us of the winds to come. At almost 6500 ft elevation the winds started and the big overhead signs spelled out severe wind warnings.
It looked like we were driving into a dust storm – no it was not a dust storm but a huge grass fire extending miles off to the west. The winds were so high that the police stopped traffic from going any further and we found the nearest Rest Stop and rode the wind waves all night waiting for the calm.
We blew into New Mexico on an almost hurricane force wind at 7500 feet elevation.
Santa Fe and a sheltered place to park was most inviting.