Don’t shoot!

Today’s post brought to you by: Doe, a deer, a female deer; ray, a drop of golden sun; me, a name I call myself; far, a long long way to run.

Grateful for: staying upright

Trying hard to accept: despite sucking up to receptionist and getting a late check-out tomorrow, my heavy bags and I have to kill 4 hours (in theory; 7 hours in Amtrak time) tomorrow. Won’t have to look far for a gun.

I’m pretty damn proud of myself.

Now this may not seem like a big deal to you but this morning I walked in the snow, down a big hill, on footpaths hidden under shagpiles of white, alongside a four-lane highway for over an hour to get downtown.

And then back again in the falling snow and setting sun.

Only skated on thin ice once.

My biggest fear, aside from jeans refusing to stretch any further, is going for a skate, ending up flat on my back and starting another email with the words: “Hi, I need to claim on my travel insurance.”

The only open places in town were bars, casinos (lots), pawn shops (lots), supermarket, fast food joints (lots) and movie theatre.

Not that I’m missing much judging by my 8-minute trudge through the snow to look round the fine selection of retail outfits.

What you can buy in Leon’s: power tools (think ‘Fargo’), 6,286 computer games, 8,243 DVDs, the complete range of Native American beaded everything, moccasins, blankets, $350 diamond ring (must tell Bill), saddles, chaps and more guns in one shop than in the whole of NZ. Every size, type, price, age gun you can imagine. Which begs the question: if those are just the ones in a pawn shop, how many exactly are out there in people’s bedrooms, vehicles, socks and toilets?

Guess who didn’t consider that Sunday in winter would be the worst possible time to visit.

Got the fright of my life in this place. Clearly the lack of daylight doesn’t affect sight because the second I snapped this shot a booming voice rang out. What he said: “Can I help you find anything?” What he meant: “Take any more shots, lady, and you’ll know the true meaning of the word.” I left without buying any overpriced tacky fringed clothing. Some of dem boots were pretty damn cool though.

But I struck gold at Gary and Leo’s Fresh Foods IGA supermarket. Pretty damned impressed.

It was cheaper than anywhere else I’ve shopped (keeping in mind this is the Wild West and it takes 4 days to get anything here), had clean bathrooms and a cosy cafe where I quaffed $1 coffee, sneakily ate my lunch and listened to Christmas carols next to a faux open fire and surprisingly tasteful and cute selection of Christmas decorations.

All along the way into town were these tracks going from the highway to the residential areas. Too big for squirrel or wolf. Too small for moose, bison or runaway prisoner. Am thinking coyote. Or rabbit in snow shoes.

On the way home I zipped (figuratively; chance’d be a fine thing on these icy roads) into the strangely named ‘Holiday Village Mall’ across the road from the hotel.

I tell you, it was all happening there on a Sunday afternoon.

The only place (a) still in business and (b) worth going into was Dollar Tree where everything was $1. Everything. Finally got my French’s French Fried Onions.

If you want to see a cross-section of Havre, go to the Dollar Tree.

Trolleys overloaded with Christmas tat and jumbo bags of TGI Friday’s cheese and bacon potato skins.

I could smell the cigarettes (probably $1) on everyone as they squeezed past me.

It was actually pretty depressing. One father was doing a rare feat for a man and multi-tasking.

“No! You’re not getting that. Put it back. I don’t have money for anything this month” while arguing on phone to ex-wife about what time he was bringing the kids back.

Liesl’s singing “I am 16 going on 17” to Rolf as I write this. First time I’ve ever watched ‘Sound of Music’ from beginning to end. Gee, anyone would think I was in Montana on a Sunday night in winter without a car.

Super 8 better have soundproof walls because I’m about to belt out “Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings, these are a few of my favourite things. Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes, snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes …”

Ok, ready for it? No, not my angelic voice.

Thanks to my photographic food memory, here’s the complete list of choices at Super 8’s (FREE) breakfast.

As much as you can scoff of:

• 3 types of caffeinated coffee
• 1 type of decaffeinated coffee
• 1 type of tea
• 2 types of hot chocolate
• Every type of creamer ever invented
• Frosty Flakes
• Raisin Bran
• Fallen asleep yet?
• Maple and brown sugar oatmeal
• Raisin and cinnamon oatmeal
• Granny Smith apples
• Hard boiled eggs
• 2 types of yoghurt
• Biscuits
• Sausage gravy
• Biscuits
• Sausage gravy
• Ok, move on Gail
• English muffins
• Boring bread
• Bagels
• Blueberry muffins
• Why does every yummy crap food start with B?
• Danish pastries
• Apple and cinnamon iced pastries
• Cream cheese, my best mate peanut butter and 4 types of sugar-laden spreads
• And the one thing I said last night I would not go near but was first in line because when am I ever going to get another chance – the waffle maker.

This was so cool. Actually it was scalding hot. You dispense a cup of ‘Today’s flavour’ or ‘Original’ batter into a cup, step two paces to the right, pour it in a rotating iron waffle pan, wile away the 2-minute waiting time by talking to all the blokes coming in for a big feed before heading outside to work, remove piping hot perfectly cooked waffle and slather it in cherry jam, maple syrup and stewed apples. And peanut butter. Because peanut butter is good on anything. (Sorry Jim).

I chucked pepper on the biscuits and gravy to try and make them look like real food.

In a rare moment of self-control (read as: I’m fat, I have zits, my clothes hate me) I sampled most of it, but only a couple of bites. Even I have my limits.

Yeah yeah I know completely wasteful. But, in my feeble defence, it’s a one-off. Well two-off if you count tomorrow morning.

Americans seem to have this fascination with Montana — well judging by my source of all information on American life — HGTV’s ‘Big Sky Country’.

I can see why. It’s like nowhere else. And it feels a million miles away from anywhere else. There’s something special about it.

There’s something special about the people too. Don’t think many Nobel Prize winners come outta these parts.

There’s a real distinctive Montana accent. Kinda like Minnesota on speed.

Everyone looks like they’ve just stepped off a western film set. If you don’t have a beard, wear a baseball cap and drive a truck you got no business in this town.

And that includes the women.