Grabbed breakfast this morning while waiting for the post office to open at 8:30. This is my first mail drop pickup and everything went well.
A thanks to mom and dad for handling the packages.
It's a good thing I had to pickup a package because when I went to pull out ID for the package I realized I'd left my wallet at the breakfast restaurant.
I would have been Sofa King pissed if I had ridden 100 miles to Whitefish before figuring it out.
Anyway, 110 miles and 3000 feet of vertical between me and the next town (Whitefish). So I'll be splitting this up into 2 days and staying deep in the woods tonight.
So 40 miles in I arrived at the campsite. It was unmanned and initially appeared to be unoccupied. I've been advised by a couple of passing forestry students that this area of Montana has the highest concentration of Grizzlies in the lower 48 and that the forest service uses this area to reintroduce trouble grizzlies from other areas. Very nice.
Fortunately, I found protection in a 60 year old recently divorced and very jaded mountain dude named Britt. He was sleeping in his 1978 Mercedes with his two dogs and his shotgun. Which according to him are the only possessions that bitch didn't get away with.
So after a long night of telling lies with Britt, I called it a night knowing that he, his dogs, and his gun had my back.
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