Please say HELLO to this beautiful dog who tried all morning - for at least 10 miles walking - to adopt me. Finally walked by a farm with a man out front with his dog...Oh, yes, it belongs to those folks up on the hill...and my companion stayed with the man as I walked back to SPIA.
Truly, I would have liked to have such a dog. Manners were impeccable...was interested in everything from passing vehicles to herds of cattle to birds...but mostly to me, as he never went more than a few yards away at any time.
I shooed him away constantly. He considered that a great game and charged me, swerving at the last moment, bounding off into the grass and charging again.
Was a good companion while it lasted.
The City Park in the town of Malta, Montana, where we parked last night. Sun was up as I walked West on US 2 for 6.5 hours = 24 miles, returning to SPIA around 11:30am.
We then drove to the town of Dodson, Montana - 17 miles distant, where we parked on the street while I walked for another 4.5 hours = 16 miles.
Had to deduct 6 miles for the shortage of yesterday, but gained 34 miles forward progress from Malta.
Then drove to the town of Harlem, Montana (30 miles from Malta), where we are parked for the night at a Convenience Store. In the morning, will walk BACK East on US 2 for 14 miles to recover those miles; then, will walk West on US 2 - around noon - toward the town of Zurich, Montana.
An old bridge over the Milk River next to last night's parking spot.
As an historical note; the Milk River channel is the pre-ice age channel of the Missouri River, which changed its course way back when to it's current channel.
We are in rolling hill country...lots of rattlesnakes, I am told. Did see a squished one beside the road today...the first rattler I have seen since beginning walking. I have been assured I will meet up with some live ones before leaving Montana...yeah, sure...other folks in other States have said the same thing...beginning to think rattlesnakes are a myth.
Click click...about the Sundance Kid, etc.
Residential street of the town of Dodson, where SPIA parked during my second walking leg.
Much of northern Montana is given over to Indian Reservations.
Swallows from under the bridge I am standing on over the Milk River.
They perform quite a flying exhibition when disturbed by folks like me walking over their bridge.
The white line painted on the pavement designates the location - and direction of installation - of a water pipe under the roadway...the dry canal in the background flows into that pipe.
The Milk River is quickly drying up. Folks are urging the sky to fall in the form of rain. Last year this region had plenty of precipitation - snow and rain -...this Winter, nearly nothing.
Today was, weather wise, the most perfect day for walking since leaving OBX March 01.