Lander, WY - My Montana Moments Begin

Grab a beer, boys and girls, belly up to the bar, and prepare to sit a spell. I have a story, maybe a couple, to tell about some boys who went to Montana.

And it’s about damn time.

Yes, I’m finally crawling out from under the steaming remains of a week of meltdowns – a hard drive gone all chernobyl on me, an AWOL DSL connection, and a visit from the ever delightful virus fairy – the real world, kick-your-physical-ass kind, complete with seventy-two hours of 103-degree fever spikes and energy sapping, sheet soaking cold sweats.

You just gotta love air travel.

But enough with the whining. It's time to get going again and I have much to tell. So pull up a stool and let's get started.

Perhaps the only personal technology that didn't fail me out west was The Girl, my Garmin nüvi GPS. As Sanders and I headed northward out of Denver we knew only that we would chase down our buddy Russ in Lander, Wyoming. Into the GPS went "Lander", but, when asked for an address, we had no clue and randomly selected a non-descript, center-of-town-looking address - 101 1st Street - figuring that once we got into the heart of the place Russ couldn't be far away. We had no idea how true that was to be.

Six hours of jaw-dropping Colorado and Wyoming scenery later, amazing to this southern boy, The Girl turned us directly into the parking lot of the Lander Bar. We called Russ to find out where he might be and he said simply "Come on in". He was, of course, inside, chillin' over a quiet lunch and a cold PBR. We joined him, with Sanders taking note that he simply must have one of these fine buddy-and-bar-finding devices.

So, kind barkeep, another PBR for my friends, and I'll have a mug of that nice lookin' local-brewed hefe there. We've got some fishin' to do this afternoon, but a cool one before we get started just seems right. Sanders impressed the house by correctly guessing the card under his PBR's bottle cap, the five of clubs, and we could only surmise that he'd squandered his luck for the day. We could smell a skunk. Perhaps a second round was in order to set things right once again.

And the rest of you grab a beer, or whatever, too, and settle in. There's finally some Montana moments on the horizon.

Yes, out on that big sky horizon.