Adventure 14: Dillon, Montana

Wet Snow, Twenty-Six Degrees

Thank the Lord for traveling mercies. We extended our stay in Kalispell in order to miss the snow storm that blanketed much of the middle west. It is good that we decided to bypass the Black Hills. Rapid City recorded seventeen inches with more promised. Our travel day was sky blue beautiful. Traffic was light and roads were dry until we entered the Butte area, where cold gray clouds draped the freshly snow covered mountains.  Our highlights began early in the morning with the mist rising off Flathead Lake, and the view from Polson had more shades of blue than a Billie Holliday song. We weren't sad because as soon as we left the lake we entered the Mission Valley. Few mountain ranges can boast the magnificence of the Missions. The highlight of our day was a visit to the church at St. Ignatius, likely known to some as the Sistine chapel of the west. In my travels I have often wondered why in the world people would settle in a certain place. I have no such concerns about the Mission Valley. If I had been born a Salish Indian, a pioneer, or a Jesuit priest, I certainly could not have chosen a better place. We arrived in Dillon around 2 P.M. We're hooked up for the night in a cute little RV park called Southside RV. The sites are level, the wifi is strong, and the free showers are hot. We took a walking tour through Dillon, stopped at an obligatory yarn shop where we met one of Jeff Seidensticker's old girl friends. That's not quite true. She said she did know Jeff and Patti, but that she was behind them a bit in school. It's nice to be famous, even if you've left your home town for big city life. Wet snow and heavy wind had hit Dillon the night before, so everywhere crews were cleaning broken branches from the streets. Under the crisp blue sky, it was hard to believe what nature had provided just one night before. I'm eager to get to points south where the sun is warm, but having said that, I'm happy to be right where I am. We're bound to miss some things on this adventure, and today we missed the Amish food store in St. Ignatius. We followed two horse drawn buggies through town, but in our eagerness to find the church, we missed the cue. Who really needs fresh cured meats and home made cheeses anyway? On a winning note, I managed to win the deciding game of the Kalispell cribbage tournament, though I was tempted to buy a firearm (quite easily done in Montana) in order to shoot the fingers off of my opponent's hand because even though she's not too skilled, she tries to cheat on a regular basis just like I taught her. And of course, she relishes a life that is good, especially today.

 Built in 1894, the church must rank as one of the most opulent statements in the Jesuit West.

 I felt the mysteries of faith as soon as I entered the sanctuary 

 My camera couldn't capture the magnificence. Come see for yourself.

 Jesuit fathers lived in the left cabin and Sisters of the Providence in the right.

 Most amazing to me is that the church was wide open to visitors even on a Friday morning.

 A glimpse of the Mission Mountains: God's sanctuary.

 No riding today. We're a bit squeamish in thirty-seven degree weather.

 Last night the warning sirens were blaring, but today all was quiet.

Even the spruce trees have frozen fingers.

 Wheel art: markings left from crossing the great divide.

 Has anyone seen Judy?