My Migration Day 2: Dear Missoula

      Woke up to a gray, snow covered world, and it was still falling straight down when I made it to my car. Poor Judy Blue Eyes looked like a giant snow cube. Not the best omen for another day on the road. But then again, I had snow boots, ice scrapers (more than one is the only way to go), plenty of warm clothes, and some hot tea, so I wasn't unprepared. My short frame cleared off my RaV4's not so short frame fairly successfully and off we went.
       Getting back on to I90 was a harrowing experience. The roads were covered in brown, thick slush waiting to pull unsuspecting cars off the road, like the car right behind me. At first glance I thought they were making a very illegal U-turn until they nosedived into the ditch. I debated more than acceptable before I called 911, and after a few minutes of providing information I hung up, left with hope that they were okay, while I kept driving into the stormy western horizon. Originally, Helena, MT was on my detour list, but with this snow I didn't want to risk leaving the interstate, so I drove right on by the exit with a pang of regret, but wearing a cloak of sensibility.
      Montana is gorgeous. Beautiful, expansive, diverse, and plenty of awe-inspiring vistas made up the stretch of interstate I kept to. There were behemoth mountains playing peek-a-boo behind not-unimpressive hills. Not once while I've been driving have I felt alone. I've felt small and I've felt empowered, but never lonely. There are sleeping giants, elegant herons, distracted, winding rivers to keep me company. So often, feeling small is regarded as a negative emotion, but my height is my strength and feeling little equates being humbled, at least in this circumstance. And, if you know me, you know I could use some humility. Another good place to be humbled is brand new driving environments. Cue Missoula!
      First of all, have you driven through there? And secondly, sorry about that rough transition, but I found it absolutely terrifying trying to find the college and then escape town when that venture nearly caused a few mishaps. Being from a small rural town and having never driven in a bike-friendly town, there was a lot of confusion. Are all the roundabout thingies really necessary? However, now that I've semi-formally lodged my complaints in a public forum, I must admit that Missoula is a gorgeous city. All of the trees and flowers were in bloom, the houses are quaint, and there looked like a lot to do, plus the mountains, river, and general beauty of the area were easy to love. All in all, I'd say Montana is a new favorite, but I've still got aways to go.