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Henrietta Lawson where the roads fade away
- Woke up beneath a shrub in the right of way of the Westbound onramp of I-94 in Miles City. It was a beautiful dawn, and I watched the sun come up over the Badlands with a bright and beutiful Montana sky to fill.
Got up and walked to the gas ...station, got hot water for my instant and then went straight to the ramp. I stood and watched a few small birds out hunting their insect breakfast. As is my habit, I sang Amazing Grace as I watched them - felt like Bob Marley in the three little birds songs, except that my doorstep was the onramp to the West.
Turned about and watched the clouds rolling in from the north. They looked like the surf washing up on the beach - a long straight line of clouds rolling forward, with a few ripples in parallel lines preceeding them. After about an hour, these passed from the northern horizon to overhead, and then the wind began to gust and the line of the sky tide passed the sun - giving the gift of relative shade and cooler winds. I love such things, the birds in the sky returned in the new cold front to catch a second meal on the cheap. cheep-cheep.
Another hour goes by, and the traffic is slow and uninspiring. I began to think about going in for more coffee - and right then a sedan pulls over with Wisconsin plates. I say hello, and put my guitar in on top of his banjo ( in its box ) in the back seat.
As we roll toward his boyhood home in Missoula, he tells me about his life in Wisconsin, studying for his Doctorate in the philosophy of Medical Imaging Physics. Specifically, he works on Ultrasound machines. This gives me an opening on the Midwifery school front, so I describe the intricacies of the MotherFarm concept. We Parse that down to many of the brass tacks as we drive. In each county we pass through, he interjects with peices of trivia about the population, county seat and landmarks. I chime in from time to time with tidbits of my own, especially about the Crazy Mountains, where I'd built a stage for Puppet MC'd talent shows in 99.
I tell him then quite a bit about Rainbow Gatherings, even down to our purpose being in part to Welcome Veterans home. He asks why his discharge hadn't included the invite. Turns out he was a part of the National Gaurd Army Cors of Engineers while in College. He'd joined to pay off his college stuff during peace time, mainly just working building schools in South America and hunter's shelters in National Forrests and state parks. Then the World Trade Center fell in New York, and suddenly he was off to Uzbekistan, and then Afghanistan. He wondered aloud to me f it was stupid of him to join the army to build schools. I didn't have an answer, but thanked him for his service.
When we get to Missoula, we go to a restaurant called the Old Post. Two of his friends are there with their thre young children. We talk happily for awhile, and it turns out the young girl ( about 7 ) is named Ayla - after the heroine of the book Shelters of Stone, which I finnished about a week ago ( in Pennsylvania ). I ask about that, and they tell me her full name, about 7 words long, including the word Wingnut. This perks my attention fully, and the mom smiles, says she used to do the Rainbow thing, and was part of the Chez Wingnut Cafe in the Late 90's. Turns out we were at a couple of the same Gatherings!
My Wisco driver and I finnish our drinks ( he had Beer, I had Black Coffee ) and get back to his car. Then we drive down to the river and pull out our instruments - making a recording of my song 'The Children in Babylon (where the roads fade away). We do it in the key of G, as this is simple for the banjo. It's the first time he's ever played with anyone, and he does quite well. I really hope aninvisiblepirate picked us up well. He then drives me up to the Flathead Resevoir ramp where 93 north seperates from I90. As we part ways, he gives me a five dollar bill and drives on to where his wife and child are with his parents at their house.
This strikes me as part of the hypersymmetrical universe, as Flathead is the term used in the books about Ayla to describe the neanderthals - it is a derogatory term which Ayla spends her life facing. On the ramp I make a quick video of myself and my gear standing, thumb out and all, that I intend to mix into the video for the song made by the river in Missoula.
I stand watching the sun go down and the cars pass by - and glory of glories theri is a sun dog in the sky! A sun dog is the term for a little glimmer patch of rainbow that appears in a sky streaked with clouds. It lasts for about ten minutes - and the whole time I am inspired to sing little bits of this and that - including alll the lyrics to 'Whetstone and Steel' from Tales from Cafe Queequeg's Introduction.
The sun is now all gone over the mountains to the west, but the dusk is still quite bright - so I give it a bit more - and then give up and pck up all my gear.
As I turn to walk up the ramp, an old white station wagon pulls over. Its a 65 Ford, and the driver is a truck driver who has just parked his rig and is headed home to northern Idaho. He drives me to St Regis, telling me along the 80 mile trip about his adventures in Alaska and Viet Nam. In both places he packed a gun - one for hunting elk, the other for hunting Viet Cong. As per my habits, I thank him for his service, and we discuss the lametable state of world affairs that causes the munitions salesmen to be in continually profitable business.
At St. Regis I find a spot to plug in and begin the process of editing the video I'd made today. http://www.youtube.com/user/alohathelion#p/u/6/dMKWc ah15D4
As I'm editing, a Greyhound bus stops for half an hour. I chat with a number of the folks - notably with a Dreadlocked girl from Ohio with a Squatter's rights tattoo on her neck and a big half pit looking dog named Marley. She's on her way to Tacoma to live in a shorty school bus with a friend of hers. She had been hitchin, but was talkied into catching a bus by some cops in Indiana. She tells me that she plays washboard, and we exchange contact info - perhaps we'll jam in the fall.
I catch some sleep neath a pine tree ( big beautiful mountain pines that have no branches lower than 20 feet ). Upon awakening, I go to the gas station and get hot water for instant coffee and spend a 2.07 on a big bean and cheese burrito that I microwave. I go outside and sit on a bench by the air pump, eating and shivering while failing to get the 'complimentary wifi' to actually work for longer than a minute at a time. As I'm trying to upload the video I just made to youtube, this doesn't do the job.
A guy pulls up to inflate a flat tire. He's got Washington plates, so I ask for a ride. He asks If I have any money. I tell him 2 dollars. He asks how much stuff I have. I show him my guitar and two small bags - and away we go. He's a construction worker from Vancouver WA, on his way home from an gas field job in North Dakota. I tell him a bit about my journeys, he asks me several pointed questions about faith and religion - to which I give the clearest answrers I can - which includes alot of defining the limits of my comprehension. Turns out he's Lutheran, doesn't listen to music, and likes hunting. We find common ground in our mutual appreciation of birds. As we drive, I see a sign for rt 41, Post Falls - and remember that the old vet in the 65 Ford Wagon told me that rt 41 will go to the Colville area - where the Gathering is, without the trouble of Spokane's big-city-ness. Sounds ghood to me, so I ask him to drop me.
There's a Starbucks, and the change I have left is just enough for a Bagel. I get it toasted, plug in and connect to the internet.
See MoreAugust 28 at 9:33am ·
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posted by Sojourner Truth @ 25.10.10
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