Bozeman
Bozeman
I hadn’t made any plans for after my arrival in Bozeman. I was set to arrive at 11:30 in the morning on Monday, but since I volunteered my seat on that flight, I didn’t end up arriving until 8:30 that evening. It was a long trip, and I was very exhausted. In Chicago O’Hare, I bought a wifi subscription so I was able to get online and try to contact Couchsurfing hosts. Luckily enough, a man named Brad, age 55, had sent me an invitation to surf on his couch a few days earlier. I sent him a message, really hoping he might check his CS page that morning. He did! And he was happy to accommodate me.
I arrived at the Bozeman airport at 8:30, and was amazed at how small it was. At 8:30, every shop was closed and there were no employees anywhere to be found. I panicked a bit, realizing that my bag, which took the 11:30 a.m. flight, would not be on the belt with the others that just arrived, and I would have to find someone to locate it. Just as I was pondering how to find someone, Brad approached with a sign, ANOUSH. I was relieved that he had parked and come in, because he could help me find my bag.
We found my backpack 30 minutes later, because it took that long for a United worker to appear. Brad was a really nice guy, who had been all around the U.S. doing various things, and before he moved to Bozeman, he and his wife lived in Plymouth, MA. While we drove away from the airport, talking about Cape Cod, Montana, etc., the full moon was hanging low in the sky. The sun was still out, and had it not been for the moon, I could have mistaken it for 4 in the afternoon. Behind us, the sun began to set in the mountains. Clear sky, dry air, and beautiful mountains. I was amazed.
We got to Brad’s house just outside of Downtown Bozeman, and he showed me my room and introduced me to his children. Parker is a junior in high school, and Katie just graduated high school. They seemed not too interested in me, so Brad and I went out on the deck and drank some local brew while we waited for his wife Betsy to come home from class. She is working on her doctorate in education at the University in Bozeman.
When she came home, we all sat in the kitchen and talked for hours. They were a really lovely couple. Betsy told me about her adventures when she was my age, bicycling across the country from NJ to CA, and Brad talked about his work for an environmental non-profit here in town. Brad had worked for many years with at-risk youth in wilderness programs, and he told me a story of how the boxer Mike Tyson came to his program when he was 16. He was so muscly, he said, that he could barely bend over to tie his shoes. But whenever they were hiking and there was a salamander in the trail, Mike would get down on his knees to pick it up and move it so no one would step on it. Besides those gentle gestures, he said Mike was really aggressive. One of his coworkers at the program was a boxer, and introduced him to boxing. The rest is history.
Betsy showed me pictures of their oldest daughter, Sarah, who seems to be just about my age, and who is working in a little private school in Southeastern India for the year. They were both so visibly proud of her and they gave me her information so I might be able to contact her when I’m out there next year.
As 11:00 approached, I was fading fast. I had been awake since 4 in the morning, and 11 p.m.Mountain time meant 1 a.m. Eastern time. We said goodnight and I went up to my room. It was such a gorgeous night. The cool breeze came through the window, and I breathed in the air thinking about how dry it was compared to Cape Cod. I love this little town! I drifted off to sleep peacefully, albeit lonely.
The next morning, I woke up at 5, realizing I didn’t know what time I needed to be at the bust station. Brad had offered to drive me there, but I wasn’t sure when he would be awake. I checked my email and it said I needed to be there at 7. Shit. I got in the shower, hoping to passively wake them up. It was a good thing I did, because they said they usually don’t get up until 7. They fixed me some breakfast (blueberries, yogurt, and toast with home-mixed jalapeno and salmon cream cheese) and coffee, and we chatted briefly before packing up. I was so grateful for their hospitality and help getting around. They were just lovely people and so willing to help. And I definitely needed it. I don’t know how I would’ve gotten around otherwise, given my level of fatigue.
Brad dropped me at the bus station at 7 am on the dot, and minutes later, the Xanterra van pulled up. I was on my way to Wyoming.
