The Fourth of July barricades Montana 83
for a parade that runs through Condon.
Liquid Louie’s starts serving beer at 11.
A menagerie of beasts and vehicles carry
people in from the surrounding mountains.
White and blue streamers cover us in the
back of a 1960 red Buick convertible. For
10 minutes, we throw candy down a mile
long stretch of highway, then turn off the
parade route, waving at the backlog of RVs
with boats, motorcycles, and cars waiting
to get on with their day.
—elbow, elbow, wrist, wrist, wrist—
After the festivities, Len and I jump in
the Jeep and head south to Fir Lane.
A few miles from Condon, we spy a
bald eagle flying overhead carrying
a big ass trout in its talons. The bird
drops the fish on the grassy shoulder
of Montana 83. We stop to pick up
dinner on the way home.
God Bless America!