Slept in this morning and reluctantly left my spot along the Bitterroot River. Van camping is efficient. No wrestling a tent into that tiny little bag or rolling up a sleeping bag. Just put the van in drive and go! First I stopped in Missoula and walked around a bit and got a cup of coffee. It was refreshing to spot some hippies and other like minded souls. For the past two days the only stations I could pull in on the radio were Jesus shows, conservative talk radio, and country music. It was time to start heading East. Once again I decided to stay off the interstate and roll on Highway 12. It’s just as lonely as Highway 50 through Nevada. Went through Helena and then into wide open ranch land country. Miles and miles and miles of open space with little teeny towns every now and then to break up the monotony. I stopped in most of them just to stretch the legs and see what’s going on. Lots of cowboy hats, gravel, dust, pick-up trucks and real men in jeans and boots fussing over farm machinery or cattle trailers. The van got a lot of smiles and thumbs-up. Mostly from the women. I was worried about finding a campsite, this being the start of the holiday weekend and all, but I found a great site by the Yellowstone River just east of Forsyth in Rosebud. Best of all it’s free and there is only one other family here.