Some like it hot. I’m not ‘Some’. While Summer ’26 officially begins on June 21st, it certainly felt like it while I was in Sheridan dealing with the Beast’s engine overheating, and later when I traveled north to Montana, where I stayed the night at the Love’s Travel Center in Hardin. The mercury just escaped triple digits when it hit 98, and didn’t cool down until late into the night.
The next morning, it was cool enough to feel comfortable. After doing the wake-up routine, and squaring away the rig, I attempted to fill the tank before heading west. Before I could pull into one of the pumps, I was flagged down by a fellow RVer, who let me know the gas pumps weren’t working. Sure enough, they had placed those yellow plastic covers on the gas handles. Only diesel was operational, as they seemed to be experiencing computer problems with the gas dispensing software. Lucky for us, there was a competitor across the street, same price, and no issues.
Montana was consistent with the 80 mph speed limit and the roads were generally in great condition, with a few bumps along the way. I decided to pull into the first Rest Area I encountered, which was certainly different than any other I had been to. There wasn’t a general use bathroom for Men and one for Women. Instead, there were separate lockable rooms. Men’s were on one hallway to the left, and women’s down the opposite. Inside the one I found vacant had a sink, a urinal and regular toilet, and what looked like a cot. Strange.
When I went back outside, there was a sign that caught my attention.
I’d seen warning signs about rattlers elsewhere, but just a caution to watch out for them. Maybe it’s just my warped sense of humor, but I wondered if you’d be safe on the sidewalks because cement might be toxic to rattlesnakes.
There was a fenced off ‘Pet Exercise’ area, but Squirty had seen the sign and wasn’t interested in risking it.
The scenery was beautiful to take in while driving, green for the most part, although there was some areas that were not the lush green color that the locals blamed on the ‘drought’ conditions.
Billings was the next place with a Walmart to stop by for a couple of things. The temps were in the lower 70s, and pleasant. The city wasn’t picturesque, lots of rusted tanks dotting the landscape, with storage dumps for what I assumed was oil or gas storage. There was also a number of plants operating in what I assumed was energy related. We made our way out of the city, and pulled off I-90 at Laurel, Just before the exit, There was a Walmart off to the right. Since I had forgotten to check on some things that I thought I might need soon, I parked in their lot.
No signs about overnight parking.
When I asked, I was told that an overnight stay was fine as long as someone was notified that I’d be staying there before they closed at 11pm.
So we did. It gave me a chance to get some work done on the computer. My concentration was interrupted a couple of hours later with the trailer being rocked by the wind.
What had been just a slight breeze, was now bending the tree branches back, and the sky was getting dark. What felt like gale force winds continued for several hours, rocking Lil ‘Red enough to produce an anxious look on Squirty’s face. Or was that mine?
The wind calmed down by 8pm, and I went inside to let them know I’d be parked overnight. They smiled and thanked me, then reminded me they’d be closed at 11, and reopen at 6am. Clearly, they weren’t concerned that I was going to set up a campsite and take over their parking facilities with my fellow band of ‘homeless’ colleagues who were just waiting for a green light to establish a colony.
The weather system that passed through brought with it northerly flow overnight, and those warmer temps were replaced by comparably frigid ones. It was 43 degrees at 4am, prompting me to run the furnace for a bit.
I stayed up since Squirty was insistent on watering the vegetation along the edges of the parking lot, and I needed some coffee.
So, as I get ready to post this and throw a dart at the map of the wall to see where we’re headed next, I thank Lucy for her handling of the meteorological football. as we must always remember to expect the unexpected
