Wednesday, July 12
Move camp day!
Before leaving Quartz Flat Campground and boarding Interstate 90 West, I position the Best Little Trailer at the dump station.
The tanks don’t need dumping, but since the dump fee is included in the price of camping, it makes sense to empty tanks.
There’s also a hose for drinking water which I use to fill the fresh water tank.
If you happen to pass this way, between Missoula and Superior, Montana, you can stop at Quartz Flat for a quick dump and also a fresh water fill. Dump stations are located on both sides of the interstate.
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Another item is erased from my “To Do” list!
In one of several conversations with Cliff, the friendly and helpful camp host, I mentioned the post on the BLT’s tongue jack being bent. (It was bent when the coupler jumped off the hitch ball, pitching the jack post into the ground).
Because the bottom of the post is out of shape, it no longer fits in the cone. I really like that cone. Setting our house on blocks of lumber not only looks tacky, but seems less than secure. I have visions of the post sliding off the pile of wood. I know, silly.
Well, wouldn’t ya’ know . . .
I’m dumping tanks when Cliff hurries over carrying an ax and a big ol’ hammer!
He holds the ax head behind the jack post with one hand and commences to hammer away at the post with the other. He tests to see if the post will fit in the cone.
The post is crimped at the bottom so it won’t return entirely to its normal shape by hammering.
I don’t care about the post looking perfect. I only need it to fit into the depression at the top of the cone.
“Hold on a minute,” Cliff says. “Let me go get my grinder.”
Cliff grinds off the little bit that wouldn’t hammer in and . . .
The cone fits!
I thank Cliff (and ask him to relay my thanks to his wife) for making our stay at their campground a peaceful and enjoyable time. It’s apparent that this retired couple, who leave their home in Florida to camp host here each summer, care about the campground and the people who come their way.
I pull out of the campground a very happy camper.
Wow! The jack is fixed! I don’t need to replace it as suggested at the RV service place!
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Our next camp isn’t very far.
If you look at your Montana map and see how short the drive is, well, don’t laugh!
(We go less than twenty miles.)
At the bottom of the exit ramp a small sign points the way.
Now, I don’t need that little blue sign to tell me which way to go. I can read a map. But it’s nice, when traveling in unfamiliar areas, to come across these signs. It’s kinda’ like having someone hold your hand.
Soon we cross Clark Fork River. I stop on the bridge, bring the window down, and take the next photo of Roger.
I love this photo!
We go 3.2 miles along the north bank of Clark Fork River. This is the bluest I’ve ever seen Clark Fork. I usually see it when it’s dark, almost black.
I wonder if these people are summer visitors to Montana or year-round residents.
The railroad tracks are on the other side of the river.
Like three strands in a braid, Clark Fork River, Interstate 90, and the railroad tracks cross back and forth.
“Here it is!” I announce to the crew.
I turn into Slowey, another Lolo National Forest campground with the low camping fee of $5 for seniors with a discount pass or $10 regular.
Even though I camped here previously with the original canine crew, I drive the loops twice checking out the campsites. I want to make sure I choose the best campsite for us — one with lots of shade.
By the time I back the BLT into the site I’ve chosen, Roger and Reggie are wanting OUT!
“Here ya’ go, dumplins. We’re home!”
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