Marsha had offered to drive me up to Three Mile, the corner (you guessed it) three miles away, where US-2 splits with US-95 and heads east. I walked 3 miles east and decided to try to hitchhike to the State Line, a bar (at, that's right, the state line) that I had been told to check out. First, two women in a white Taurus stopped but didn't give me a ride because they thought I was someone else. The next vehicule to pull over was a new dark green pickup, and it was driven by Nancy, with passenger/boyfriend Tim. They tucked me into the back of their extended cab and away we went. They were only going as far as Moyie Springs, which couldn't have been more than two miles, and they invited me to have a beer with them at the local bar. I accepted because they were friendly and accompanied them to the little country bar, where the animated bartender had only worked for only an hour, and unfortunately for her, the owner had left her alone without teaching her to use the register or telling her what anything cost. After we'd finished our beers (and Nancy failed in her search for marijuana) they dropped me off back on the highway. I walked a mile out of town, over the Moyie River on a tall, tall bridge. I took some pictures of a distant but pretty waterfall and walked a bit further, until a sign appeared: "Shoulder Drops Off Next 10 Miles." In other words, I'd have to walk 10 miles to get to my next good hitchhiking spot, and it was already about 3:00. I really wanted to get to at least Troy, Montana in time to set my tent up before dark, so I decided to hitchhike where I stood.
I hitched for only 15 minutes or so before my ride came along. He was only going 6 miles, but that was better than nothing and got me more than halfway through my ten miles of bad hitchhiking territory, so I was happy for the ride.
I walked a couple miles east on the highway, surrounded by woods the whole time. I stopped near a rode with a "National Forest Entrance" sign, figuring it be an easy place to find camping if I failed to get a ride. I pulled out the ol' signal thumb and started wavng it at cars that went by. After 45 minutes, I was picked up my a couple mid-20's guys in a huge newish SUV that I figured was impractical ans hugely wasteful as a highway vehicule; those suspicions did not stop me from getting in. These guys cruised down the highway chatting with each other bug playing their music so loud that I couldn't even hear them talking, much kess ask their names. They dropped me off along highway 2 in Troy, Montana.
I stopped next to a gas station to get lunch and refill my water, then I started walking east out of town. Getting through town was about a mile, and in order to find a good hitchhiking spot I had to continue for certain more.
A few miles outside town I got picked up by an older couple in a small pickup with a topper on it. I sat in the back under the topper, and they took me to Libby, where they dropped me off at the Fireman's Memorial Park, which contained a campground that cost only five bucks a night. The price was right for me, so I got set up and went across the street to a "casino" to have a beer.
After nursing a beer and talking to my friend Krista on the phone, I took my exhausted self back across the street and had a nice, uninterrupted night of sleep.
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