As the Montana Folk Festival was ending the rain began. Francesca and I decided to drive north hoping the skies would clear.
Three hours later the rain ended and our search for a campsite began. Another fourteen hours day on the road (four of them dancing) had exhausted us. Three miles down a dirt trail we came upon a fishing camp on the the edge of the Missouri river. Briefly we watched men pulling rainbow trout and five pound walleyes out of the swirling water before we succumbed to sleep. Images of Lewis and Clark expedition along with its guide, Sacajawea, danced through my head. If our Toyota had been parked here 206 years ago we’d have seen them pass by.
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