August, for me at least, hasn’t meant fair time in, well, too long.  It’s fair time in Montucky, which engages that type of person in those certain parts of the nation to those sorts of activities.  I turned down Warrant at the Dawson County Fair last night in order to take in what may have been one of the coolest times I’ve had myself in a long time.

I began the day with what will prolly go down as on of the most majestic hikes I have ever been on: Warren Pass in the the Pintlar Wilderness.  I got a good dose of girl time with one of my closest buds, Heidi, and her pooch, Chloe, for ten miles of hike, four glacier lakes, and a near miss at getting pretty lost, at nearly 9,000ft.  One moose, no bears (I think we were chattering too loudly).  I blasted out of her house to meet my guy friends at THE WESTERN MONTANA FAIR.

Bickell had set me up with VIP parking and tickets to the DEMOLITION DERBY.  All I could say to him, CFO of Missoula County (also unknowing participant in my migration back up North and good friend for over ten years), was: “Fuckin’ A”.  I found my testoteroned up posse (I go both ways: having male and female personality traits, as anyone I’ve dated will atest, blessed and cursed), and was beaming.  I HAVE NEVER CLENCHED MY PBR AND COORS LIGHT, one in each hand, SO TIGHT!  It was amazing.  Before I knew what hit me, we were placing bets and passing dollars around the VIP section. I use this term, VIP loosely, as I think that everyone there was there only because they could potentially do something to shut this opertation down.  Ian, the 10 year-old from Pennsylvania, even got in on the betting after we got his father’s permission.  It was fantastic and felt SOOOOOO GOOOD to be a bad citizen for a night.  As the sun set through the wildfire smoke and burning oil and tire smoke (thank God for the Smoke cuz the sunset was AMAZING!), I could only wish J-Dub and Hamblin were there for a moment before I placed all my singles on #29 cuz he was a total hotdog and a bully (reminded of hotdog as I envied my friend’s hotdog).  We conspired to come up with a car sponsored by the ONE LESS CAR CAMPAIGN (bike mounted on top) while I smashed my cans and threw them on the ground below me for someone else to clean up.  I told Fred, “I’m sure they have kids doing community service out here tomorrow”.  We thought out our pit crew for next year, as we watched car after car burst into flames, only to rise up and start again, and I reminisced with my lack of voice from screaming at this point about how I had two CHEVY CHEVETTES in highschool because my dad made me buy an identical one to match the one I drove for parts due to my horrible track record.  Mark my words, I wanna be THE female driver in the Derby next year.

Amazing day.  Cars and Wilderness.  Girls and Boys. Beers and Wine.  Two for One deep-fried Meat-On-Sticks at the Norwegian Booth and organic green beans. No Bike Racing.  Still haven’t showered.

That’s a great Sunday.

BB

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