Montana Jones

Montana n: A state of the northwest United States bordering on Canada. Admitted as the 41st state in 1889. The fourth largest state in the union, it includes vast prairies and numerous majestic mountain ranges.
Syn: Treasure State, Big Sky Country, Last Best Place.

Jones n: slang. An addiction or very deep craving.

Friday, December 14, 2007

Leaky head gaskets

He:
So you are going to _ for the holiday?
Me:
Maybe, I might be changing my plans.
He:
Oh?
Me:
I have leaky head gaskets.
He:
That's not so good. I've never heard of a Subaru having that problem.
Me:
Well, according to my guy at the shop, it's actually a pretty common problem for this car.
He:
Really?
Me:
It's even covered under factory warranty up to 100 thousand miles.
He:
That's good.
Me:
Not really, I'm at 112.
He:
That's not good.
Me:
I'm told that it will probably be a $3,000 repair.
He:
Ouch.
Me:
The dealership quoted me a 1500 estimate. I think I have more homework to do.
He:
Well, that's better.
Me:
Yeah, makes it sound downright decent by comparison.

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Saturday, September 29, 2007

Road trip summary

Hours spent in the vehicle: 63

Average speed: 61.5 MPH

Total miles: 5349

Nights spent in hotel rooms: 13

Longest day: 640 miles. West Montana to East Montana.

Hours spent in a ninth grade classroom: ¾.

Old friends I got to meet for lunch: 1

Most state lines crossed in one day: 6. (Virginia, Maryland, West Virginia, Pensylvania, West Virginia, Ohio.)

Best truck stop breakfast: Cafe on exit 307 of interstate 94 through North Dakota.

Most humbling moment: Nephew kicking my ass seven times in a row at Star Wars Battlefront on the Xbox.

Coolest thing I saw: The Wright brothers airplane.

Most interesting social encounter: Flirting with the girl at the bar in Ohio.

Best beer: Moose Drool, waiting right here for me in good ol' Montana just as soon as I got back in the state.

Flattest most boring landscape: Illinois.

Best mountains (east of the Mississippi): West Virginia.

Best mountains (west of the Mississippi): Montana!

Bumpiest roads: North Dakota.

Best home cooked meal: The M_'s farm in Ohio. Fresh milk from the cow, homemade butter, a pot roast that melts in your mouth and a slice of homegrown tomato so thick and meaty I had to cut it with a knife.

Worst city traffic: Washington D.C. (Honorable mention: Minneapolis.)

Best city traffic: Fargo.

Cutest waitresses: North Dakota.

Dad's best one liner: "If the toilet paper was any thinner it would only have one side."

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Saturday, September 15, 2007

Caterpillar

I instinctively stepped toward the side of the road when the truck rounded the corner but she did not. I looked at her and she was calmly standing in the road staring down the oncoming vehicle. I watched as the driver just as calmly drifted his truck aside and missed us all by a good margin. She was pretty serious about protecting small and helpless things. She didn't even flinch.

I had been watching the caterpillar for a while now. About an inch long, fuzzy, orange in the middle and black on both ends with white spiky hairs sticking out. It was squirming it's way onto the asphalt. I was distracted as it crawled into the first lane of traffic, but when I looked for it again after a couple of cars had passed it had luckily survived all the way to the double yellow line. I pointed it out to her and how lucky it had been getting halfway across. She walked out into the road and admired its white spikes and fuzzy stripes. "I've been known to help helpless little things out." She said. She stationed herself in the middle of the far lane and stood vigil over the little bug.

The first vehicle made me flinch, but not her. The caterpillar continued its slow crawl. I stood with her more resolutely as the second vehicle dodged us. By the time the third vehicle swerved around us the little bugger had pretty much cleared the road.

"There you go little guy, now go do great things." She said. I was just glad to get out of traffic.

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