28 Miles to Sleeping Buffalo Resort / 19 Miles to Malta
Alright, you know it’s gonna be a weird day when there’s a stray cow in the road. Neither of us wanted to dismount to snap a better shot of the hornless bull, Britt just did so on her bike as we passed by. We arrived at the midway point of our daily travels in Hinsdale, Montana before noon. Stoughie’s Bar and Grill was the best bar food we’ve had yet! I chatted with a local named Bruce who was just as curious about city life as I was about the wide open west. After hearing about our plans to end our cross country journey due to physical aches and pains, Bruce offered to drive us the rest of the way to the Hot Springs. Don’t worry, Britt texted her brother in law of the situation along with our whereabouts and Bruce’s license plate number… you know, just in case! We didn’t feel threatened by him, and I pride myself in being a good judge of character. The only off putting thing Bruce said was an ignorant remark about Native Americans. I asked if the Assiniboine and Sioux tribes get along. He explained that the two have been fighting long before the settlers came. Britt wittily chimed in, “How nice of our government to put them together on the same reservation.” Bruce – “Well, we gotta thin them out somehow!” Ugh.
Bruce gave us his number if we needed another ride. Britt and I thanked him and entered the Sleeping Buffalo Resort. What a disappointment! Never trust pictures on websites, especially if their website is on BLOGSPOT – I should’ve figured. This place was a dump! What a shame, too, the hot spring pool felt nice, but the natural hot tub was infested with mosquitoes and reeked of rotten eggs. Maybe it was natural sulfuric acid? I’m no geologist, but I was not feeling it. After our refreshing swim in warm mineral water, we showered – once again in rusty mineral water… Britt and I decided to have an early dinner at the Poolside Cafe. We sat in a booth next to dead mosquitoes and gnats. Mmm, that made me even more hungry! I remember my high school cafeteria serving better food than this place. The jumpy little woman serving us had a black eye, and the guy cooking had a temper. What a cute couple.
Returning to our room I exclaimed that I cannot stay here another night. The previous day, I made reservations to stay two nights because I thought the website/blog page was legit. Never again. Britt talked to manager, who refunded us for the second night. Her and Britt talked about sites to see in Havre, Swamp People, alligator meat, and then they got on the topic of how Britt and I wanted to try bison burgers. Lo and behold, the manager had two frozen patties of buffalo burgers – GTFO! Britt returned to our room with them, and said we could go to the cafe to have them cooked.
Well, the temperamental man had a conniption! He ranted about how the manager steals from him and that the fat bitch gives food to all of the tenants to keep them from eating here. Still, he grilled our burgers claiming they were beef and if we wanted a real good meal to come here, he uses whopper sized burger patties on his Philly Cheesesteak. I’m not from Philadelphia, so I’m no expert, but I’m pretty sure Philly Cheesesteaks aren’t made with ground beef. I neglected to tell him that, as well as remind him that we already ate his shitty food because I couldn’t stop looking at his lady’s black eye. My smart ass remained silent, as he continued to rave like a lunatic. We went back to our room and had one bite of the bison (maybe not) beef, and threw the rest out. It may have been the ever present smell of rotten eggs, the slew of insects crawling around, the sticky carpet, and the overall gross factor of the dump we were staying in that made me lose my appetite for the day.
When Britt dropped off the key the next morning, she claimed that they were arguing about the burger incident. Perfect time to get the hell out! The ride to Malta was short and buggy. The past two days would have been ideal riding if not for all these little pests. I don’t know how Africans do it. Even if I did believe that they were good luck, I still couldn’t stand it. (It’s said that flies on your face mean good luck in parts of Africa).
Malta was less than 20 miles away, but the next town with a motel was about 88 miles from Sleeping Buffalo Resort. Britt and I have yet to camp in Montana. But once again, the weather forecast is calling for hail, and Britt is not one to take risks. Hey, even though I’m paying for it, I don’t mind wi-fi and bad television. I think a new Swamp People is on tonight, too! Cheers!
PS – We didn’t go to the famous Dinosaur museum in Malta, but let’s be serious, the Field Museum is practically in my backyard! And I’m not about to drop some green to see FAKE dinosaur bones. Here are some sculptures along Highway 2 (in a pasture of cows) that are supposed to get you amped up to go to the museum.