"We didn't come all the way out here to take the easy way through Glacier Park. We want the harder, more rewarding experience."

My old friend, the Red-Winged Blackbird has noticeably disappeared out west after seemingly following me all the way from New Jersey. Something peculiar I always noted about it was how it would appear to fly with me. After many miles, I realized (to my dismay) that it was only protecting its turf, barking at me all the way until I was off its land. I heard a Killdeer this morning but otherwise, many birds seem to be in hiding. 

The sun was burning its way through my tent this morning at around 9am. Josh cooked up some spaghetti late in the park at around midnight and we stayed up reading. 

The riding went slowly today. No more slower than other days but the landscape tends to creep along in Montana. The Rockies can be seen in the distance now, its grey outline standing omnipotently over the prairies. Glacier National Park is less than 200 miles away and it makes its presence known.

The town of Dodson had a small convenient store where I got a Coca-Cola from an older man with peppered gray hair. He maneuvered his wheelchair up to the cash register and I handed him the cash.

"Yeah, there's a little picnic area around the corner. Mosquitos might be bad though," he said smiling to me. "But hell, you were born outside, weren't ya?"

I laughed, "Oh, I'll take my chances. If they're all bad I'll a come a runnin back."

"Well, you take care now," he gleamed again.

I waved as I went to the picnic area. Several buildings including two old bars were boarded up, smashed windows reflecting the sun in the spider-webbed glass. Another giant train depot sits idle, a testament to the train industry's past and to the worn down present of the town. The only thing looking new was the Post Office, undoubtedly supplied by the Federal government. At least ten cars in the small town of 190 people visited the building to collect mail. 

Two peanut butter jelly sanwiches later, it was on the road again. The mile-markers have become somewhat of a hassle out here. With not much else to gander at, their green reflection always draws my attention. However, I've managed to lie to myself at what mile-marker I started at, so twenty miles later, I've actually convinced myself that I've gone thirty.

Somewhere along the vast heat strip, I found Josh again.

The last twenty or so miles to town weren't bad. Conversation forced things to go faster and we took a road off Route 2 that took longer but completely avoided traffic. It was around there that I began getting dizzy. The heat was getting to me.

We crossed into the Fort Belknap Indian Reservation and got slushies at the gas station. A temperature reading flashed 95*. It all made sense. I was under the impression temperatures were to max out at 80* today so reading that made my body feel better. I can only imagine what all the cells inside are thinking: 45* yesterday morning to more than twice that now.

Everything you hear about the Native Americans and their current struggle is true. Rampant alcoholism and gambling problems were on full display while we sat out front of the gas station. As Josh put it, it's depressing to see such an honorable and storied culture hit such lows. But after all that's been done to them... I don't blame them one bit. I just feel sorry and guilty.

We left the reservation for Harlem, MT, 3 miles away.

Harlem, MT has been my favorite little town so far. If I were to explain all the people I met and how welcome they made me feel, I'd be writing for three more hours... With that said, we met John-Charles, a joyful Native American gentleman, Julie and Ron, two bar owners, and the locals hanging out at the place. Everyone talked to us like we were the center of attention. I couldn't stop smiling and laughing (and no, I didn't have that much to drink). It was absolutely wonderful.

In Harlem, we've stumbled into Matt once again. He helped me film the ALS ice dumping challenge of Josh, which was long overdue. Anyhow, we're set up in the middle of town in the park.

In the words of one Louis Armstrong...

"Annnddd I thhiinnkk to myself...

What a wooonnnddeerrffuuulll woiiirrlldd!"

Truly.

P.s.

We set up all of our tents before we remembered there are sprinklers here. I have two tents; one for rain and one for shine. The shine tent was already up. So... Like it or not, I plan on an early alarm.