Road trip, Day Three

After our stay in the Grand Union Hotel in Fort Benton, Montana, we awoke and walked to the nearby Wake Cup Coffee House, a Bohemian little enclave with wonderful tea. Don and I sat on stools near the front window while we drank our beverages, and read a local newspaper.

It was while sitting here that we observed a group of cheerful laughing young women walking by.

I’m not certain (correct me if I’m wrong), but I believe they were Hutterites, a communal sect of Plain people whose Sunnybrook Colony is about 30 miles north of Fort Benton.

After checking out of the hotel, we left Fort Benton and traveled east on Hwy 87. At Carter, according to our 20+ year old road map, we had the option to take the Carter Ferry (the map even specified it was free and ran from April through November from 8 am to 5 pm). This would allow us to bypass Great Falls and be a grand adventure too boot, So we got off at Carter and quickly realized the ferry must be closed. Carter was a tiny and sleepy town, but since we saw no signage or any indication the ferry was operating, we got back on the road.

Later I looked it up and realized yes, the ferry still operates. Shucks! What a lost opportunity. I suppose there is one advantage to having smart phones instead of paper maps while traveling – we could have looked it up on the spot. Ah well, the road less traveled and all that.

Back on Hwy 87, we had little option but to skirt the outskirts of Great Falls, despite our valiant attempts to avoid any cities on this trip. However it was our only opportunity to hook up to Hwy 89 south. We metaphorically closed our eyes and held our noses as we got through the interchange as fast as possible, then sped out of town. (No disrespect meant toward Great Falls in particular; we feel this way about all cities.)

Hwy 89 took us through the Little Belt Mountains, a surprisingly scenic and somewhat isolated range. Just before going into the range, we stopped at a wide spot in the road overlooking something called Sluice Boxes Primitive State Park.

This is a long, narrow park following a river canyon. We had no idea this was here and had no plans to visit the park … but my goodness, it looked gorgeous from above.

Far below, we saw a couple following a path.

Because the walls of the canyon are limestone, they’re inclined toward caves. This one was shallow, not much more than a pop-out, but still intriguing. Makes you want to move in and start camping, no?

We left the overlook and started climbing through the mountain range. There was a ski area at top, and we stopped at an overlook where we could view both the ski slopes as well as the valley below us.

The turnout also included signage explaining how early logs were gotten to market in the late 19th century by creating “splash dams.” Astounding.

In White Sulphur Springs, we passed this enterprise, but didn’t stop.

However the sign amused us.

South of White Sulphur Springs, we hooked west on Hwy 12. The land was flat and very agricultural. I liked it very much.

We turned south on Hwy 287 at Townsend. A ways outside of town, something nicked the corner of our gaze, and we turned the car around to see what it was. It turned out to be a rather handsome though mysterious sculpture.

The signage indicated this was to commemorate the successful completion of a major watershed project.

Just another example of the many unsung improvements that happen locally and regionally that one never hears about outside the area. Good for them.

We had to touch base briefly with Hwy 90, even though we were trying to avoid major interstate highways during this trip. However there was no other way to get to our next destination: the headwaters of the Missouri River.

At a junction with a place called Three Forks, we were startled to see some magnificent horse sculptures on a distant hillside. These, as it turns out, are the Bleu Horses. According to Wikipedia, “The Bleu Horses is a set of 39 horse sculptures made primarily of steel and permanently installed on a hillside off Highway 287 just north of Three Forks, Montana.”

The artist, Jim Dolan, gifted his creation to the state of Montana, which I thought was way cool. Each stature is a bit larger than life, with somewhat elongated legs. Dolan noted, “At first sight, I want people to believe they are real horses, just for a second.” It worked. Trust me, it worked.

We arrived at our destination, the Missouri Headwaters State Park.

This sign documented the interesting historical tidbit of Colter’s Run.

An information kiosk had a graphic of how three rivers join together to form the Missouri.

The Madison and Jefferson Rivers join first, then a short distance later the Gallatin River joins as well, forming the mighty Missouri.

Outside the information kiosk, we followed a path leading to … something. However we were stopped by a sign stating: “Beaver activity in area. Caution, trail may be flooded.”

Sure enough…

Well, you can’t argue with beavers, so we turned around. Back in the parking area, we noticed a visitor’s center and another pathway across the street, so we headed that way. There was a lot more information on the Lewis and Clark Expedition.

Here’s a clearer schematic of the arrangement of the rivers:

We followed an indicated path for about half a mile until we came to the confluence of the Madison and Jefferson Rivers. Signage warned about undercut embankments.

To our left was the Madison River.

Across the way was the Jefferson. You can see a riffle in the water where the two rivers join.

Then, to our right, is the Missouri (later joined by the Gallatin). How cool is that?

Pleased with this stop, we continued on our way. We stayed on Hwy 90 just long enough to hook south on Hwy 55 toward Dillon.

In the tiny hamlet of Silver Star, we came across this intriguing spot: Granny’s Country Store.

“Granny” wasn’t in, but the adult son (whose name we regrettably missed) was there. He was getting ready to attend a “primitive survival”-type show and was packing things up for that purpose.

The business was a mix of post office, basic grocery staples, some clothing, post cards, and an absolutely fabulous selection of book related to homesteading, preparedness, wilderness skills, nature guides, etc. We purchased two books, outstanding resources for our home library.

The proprietor said normally the shelves would be much fuller, but he had already packed up a significant portion of the inventory to take to the show.

After a pleasant chat, we hit the road again, tickled to death to find something this intriguing in as tiny a place as Silver Star (with a population, no kidding, of 46 as of the 2020 census). A hidden gem, y’know?

We proceeded south. At Twin Bridges (aptly named), we hooked southwest on Hwy 41. The air started to get smokier, but the land was very pretty: flat, but agricultural.

We finally fetched up to the town of Dillon, our home for the night. We had thought to book ourselves into another history hotel, but this one classified itself as a “boutique” hotel, with prices to match. We didn’t feel like shelling out $350 for overnight accommodations, so we settled on a Super 8 instead.

We had spotted an all-you-can-eat Chinese restaurant not far away and decided to go there for dinner. And here’s the thing: We were the only customers. The only customers. The very friendly husband and wife who ran it had tons of steaming hot and delicious food prepped for diners … and no one was there.

There was no taped music being played on speakers to break the quiet. In the absence of any other customers, Don and I ate in awkward silence, feeling eyes upon us, hearing the over-loud clink of our cutlery on our plates. We didn’t go back for second helpings of anything, despite that privilege being part of the price, and soon enough found ourselves back on the sidewalk outside in the warm evening air.

It was rather sad. The food was wonderful and the couple who ran the restaurant were very friendly. I sincerely hope our experience was just an outlier and that they are normally packed with diners. Otherwise I don’t see how they can possibly stay in business.

Afterwards, we strolled the downtown area. Most businesses were closed since it was after hours, but the downtown was very pretty, if a touch past its prime.

We saw what we thought was a church, and walked closer to see the denomination. It turned out not to be a church, but a Carnegie library. Score!

For those who didn’t grow up in small towns, Carnegie libraries were a series of libraries built in the late 1800s and early 1900s across America by the wealthy industrialist Andrew Carnegie as part of a philanthropic effort to bring culture to isolated communities. The buildings are invariably stunning.

Some towns have outgrown their charming Carnegie libraries and transitioned to larger buildings, leaving the original structure to be used for other purposes. But in small towns like Dillon, it was still a library, which was wonderful to see.

It was still open, so we stepped inside and gaped at the beauty.

A friendly young librarian asked if we needed any help, and we explained that we were just passing through but stopped to admire the building. She explained something about the library’s history and the building’s layout, and we left feeling very satisfied indeed that Carnegie’s gift was still giving to the community.

We continued our stroll around the downtown. We happened to pass this business (closed) called The Daily Yarn…

…and were amused to see a dog in the window, clearly the store mascot. We thought he was part of the window display until he lifted his head to look at us.

So that was our third day on the road in Montana.Tomorrow we had plans to stay in Philipsburg, a gorgeous little town we stumbled across on our previous trip and were so enchanted we wanted to come back and stay overnight.

Source: http://www.rural-revolution.com/2024/10/road-trip-day-three.html