mood music for beer and scooters

The route our trucker friend plotted out for us down to Red Lodge was fantastic. No major mountain passes, diverse terrain, and lovely spots to stop and picnic. At about supper time, the only town close enough was a small town in Central Montana called Ovando. If you have never heard of it, don’t be surprised if you never do again. There is not much to it. And after driving all the way through town, the only watering hole/restaurant in the place was Trixie’s Saloon and Family Dining. This is what they call a ‘Full Service Establishment’ with good downhome eating, VLTs, pool table, animal heads on the wall, and high chairs and crayons for the kids. The burgers were good, and the waitress was friendly, which is about the only way a place like that is bearable.

On our way out, we bumped into a fellow from Anacortes, WA. He was on some cross-country tour for a non-profit organization (he didn’t volunteer more information, and I didn’t press...but it makes you wonder) and he had with him a tiny old Honda Spree or something, that was barely recognizable under new masking tape deco-job. He had a six pack of beer on the floorboards of the scoot, and he looked like he was eager to get one of them open. After a few minutes of chit-chat I bid him ‘adieux’ and watched as he buzzed off into the distance. Finn chased after him shouting ‘sGo, sGo. Brrrrrrr brrrrrrrr’ and holding his hands in handlebar formation. The kid is a born scooterist.