The good folks at Starbucks managed a miracle! They were open right at 6 a.m. like the lady said they would be. Somebody pulled an all-nighter to get that job done.

I have mixed feelings today. We’re headed to Choteau, Montana to meet up with my family. I’m excited about seeing my parents, brother, and aunts, uncles, cousins, and Grandma (many of whom I haven’t seen in 20 years) …. but the reunion will be a sad one.

I also have nostalgic feelings for Montana. We’re going to pass through Billings this morning, where I spent my last two years of college and graduated from Rocky Mountain College. I didn’t live here long enough for it to feel like home, but it is certainly full of some great memories from a really happy time in my life.

We just happened to pass by the Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument, the site of Custer’s Last Stand early this morning. This is the battle he lost to Chief Sitting Bull, and as Holden exclaimed when he heard Custer’s name, “Oh I know him! That’s the guy who’s more famous for the battle he lost than for any that he won.” Exactly true.

The kids on Last Stand hill, right where the final fall of Custer took place.

They really want you to stay on the paths.

Gravestones marking where the US soldiers fell. The bodies are buried at the base of the monument.

New monument erected in honor of the Native Americans who lost their lives. Two sides fought, after all.

In Billings, we took a short detour to Rocky, to show the kids where I went to school and for me to reminisce. My old dorm, Anderson Hall, just happened to be open for summertime renovations, so we were able to go inside and walk around.

My room, #223, was locked, but the one next door was open and I was able to show the kids an identical room to the one I spent two years living in. Isabella wasn’t impressed with the looks of college dorm life (sharing rooms, bathroom down the hall) and has decided she’ll start saving up now for off-campus apartment rent.

Me, pointing out my old dorm room window to the kids.

The campus looks quite a bit different now than it did in 1994. They have spiffed up the grounds and added some outdoor artwork. It looks really nice, although a lot smaller than I remember it. I said that to Adam and he remarked, “Everyone says that.” Important or significant things loom so large in our memories. They seem to gain physical size, I guess to match the emotional impact they had on our lives.

Lovely new renovated campus.

I feel that I am cursed with a terrible memory. It would have been fun to do today’s visit with Charlie, Kari, and Claire. I’m sure they have clearer memories of the great times we spent at Rocky and listening to them would jog my own memories.

My introduction to facebook several years ago was what made me realize just how deficient my memory is. I was able to reconnect with so many people from my Alaska days (elementary through high school) and I was shocked –and somewhat dismayed– by the things they can remember. Their recall is so vast, and in such great detail.

For example, my friend Bill told me I won the 6th grade science fair. I vaguely remember the project — I collected various poops from our animals and mixed them with water in empty milk jugs, then attached plastic bags to the openings in order to discover which type of animal manure produced the most gas. It was really, really gross. I do remember keeping those disgusting poop jugs in our furnace room for several weeks (warmest room of the house) and the horrible odor that permeated our pantry, but I’ll have to take Bill’s word for it that I won the science fair. I have no recollection of that at all.

That’s when I decided to keeps blogs like this one; if I don’t write stuff down, I’m doomed to forget most of it. Everything fades into generalities and so much of the detail is lost.

Just when I think this country can’t get any emptier, it does. The road between Billings and Great Falls is a 200+ mile stretch that doesn’t even have so much as a McDonald’s. It’s lunchtime and we can’t find anyplace to buy food.

This is a first on our trip. Generally speaking, food is something easy to come by in the United States. We did a quick inventory of whatever edibles we could scrounge up in our car: three old bananas, half a sleeve of crackers and a 1.5 oz bottle of maple syrup pilfered from a past visit to The Cracker Barrel. It’s not much, but we’re glad to have it. The kids can’t believe their eyes: we’ll pass a lonely little house sitting out here all by itself and they’ll ask “Where do these people buy food? What about school? Where do they find friends?”

It makes me think about how inhospitable this land must have felt to early settlers. There is so much endless space, and so many dangerous conditions and animals. Obtaining enough food was always a concern, and the dangers posed by other humans … but just think of the other perils they had to deal with: wild buffalo, horses, stampeding cattle, rattlesnakes, bears, moose, blizzards, heat stroke, dehydration, rock slides, tornadoes, brutal winters. No communication, no way to call for help. It’s a wonder anyone survived at all.

Later …

We checked into our hotel and met up with my brother, Brian, and his girlfriend, Phuong.  They drove from Salinas, California to Choteau, Montana in one long marathon session:  1,300 miles.  They legitimately earned the Iron Butt title we’ve been abusing all this time.    Hats off to them!  (Also, glad it wasn’t us.)

Brian, Phuong and some wonderfully inappropriate video on his iPhone that Brian is anxious to share with his nieces.