“What a silly name”, we thought approaching the rural town called “Ritzville”.
The sun was setting on the Montana prairie and we needed a place to sleep. There were no campgrounds in this tidy town of 2000.
We stopped at the Cedar Inn and asked the manager if we could camp in his parking lot. “Sure”, he said, “and for $15 you’ll get a hot shower, Wi-fi, and a
heated pool”. It sounded like a deal. We parked and enjoyed the sky fading over an
endless fields of wheat.
Later the manager
told us we had just missed local blues festival. Tiny towns putting on major music events amazes us. If we were to stick around for a few more days, and drive a hundred miles north
we could hear Jimmy Vaughn and Booker T.
We’ve only got a half-hour for Ritzville so we tour its outdoor Farm Machinery Museum, Pretty Good Grocery Store, and enjoy the surprisingly plentiful public sculptures.
People seem happy in Ritzville. We were happy to be driving again, pointing our prairie schooner towards the Pacific Northwest.
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