Our own private Idaho

Drove through Oregon, Washington, Idaho, and part of Montana. Tonight we're in Missoula, Montana. This is one VAST, unpopulated, traffic-less openness. For thousands of years before the white people came, this was a place where many indigenous cultures hunted buffalo and antelope, farmed, fished rivers full of salmon and trout, and gathered wild vegetables.

Then trappers came, brought smallpox and "civilization," dug silver mines, built railroads, and killed off the native people and the buffalo. Now there are beautiful roads; worn-out railroad tracks transporting nuclear waste, coal, and crude oil; some wind turbines; cell phone towers. In the towns, white people, not especially prosperous. Descendents of loggers and miners, perhaps.

There are wide open fields, wide open skies. Space. The light plays beautifully across this space, not judging, not telling any stories, just making color.

Tonight we have wifi. We may not have connectivity after this, so I won't be able to respond to comments and probably no more blips till we've left Yellowstone.