Monday Morning Montana Mope.

Meg saw us put the final polishes on the trip as we pulled into the gravel drive of the Bettman House to summon a possible sleep. We, (the admiral, carns, and myself), Had decided to sprocket out of Missoula when the going got ruff. We left last night at 11:45 and got here this morning at 9: a.m. (without the help of caffeine or other such stimulants). It was a rainy affair, and I remain proud and sad at such an accomplishment, even though I offered virtually no aid in driving. 

Montana itself was the medicine I needed. Though there was lacking enforcement and expectance of all things crew. You can smoke indoors at many cafes, and there are real buffalo heads on many a wall. Grease in spoon is fun but not all the time. I cut out of being vegan for the past while, and I regret it. At this point it has almost become like smoking cigarettes, a constant contrast and battle, but something that is always good to talk/complain about. 

We drank the montana crowd under the table.