Chapter 3

I have heard it said that the drive from Townsend to Helena is scenic. It’s a lie. 287 is flat, slightly up hill, on the right one can see the lake ... for an instant. After that glimpse it’s boring. The Spokane Hills obscure the view.

On the left is a sandy loess fairly flat northernly plain trending west to low hills rapidly ascending to rocky and sparsely treed low mountains. If one is driving ... behind the wheel and one thinks it’s scenic then one is sure to have an accident ... because one is NOT watching the road.

The lake is where it is because of soil erosion and wind. The dam was built to control flooding and soil loss. Instead of seasonal floods the lake is wet all the time.

However, should one return to US12 and turn off at Sand Hill Road one can travel the length of the lake with nary a sniff of dead fish or gull shit. It is as equally boring and it’s dusty ... and flat ... high plains flat.

And, if it should just happen that one graduated from Montana State, and an adjunct professor of ornithology and her husband had been a supplier of certain illegal substances and became great friends ... almost an Aussie ‘mate’ ... with a certain anthropology/English/MSU alumnus musician ... it might be possible to borrow the good Doctor’s sailboat that was docked at Goose Bay Marina.

If Kathy and Ernie weren’t using it. Make no mistake ... KATHY and Ernie ... never vice versa. Kath always comes first. Heh Heh Heh

And IF they were using it ... it might be possible to call said sailboat on the Goose Bay ship to shore radio and have them pick up that certain anthropology/English/MSU alumnus musician ... and his female companion ... and they would and did. Well ... they were already on the north shore at Kim’s marina so we drove to the Dam Bar and Grill, treated K&E to a prime rib dinner, bought beer and ice at Kim’s and took the boat to the Wednesday Evening races.

Motor boat crew cannot drink alcoholic beverages while under-weigh ... it’s the LAW. Sailboat under sail? The statutes say MOTOR...

Thursday was rough. Redheads tend to have lily white complexions and Montana in the summer is HOT and the lake is reflective ... so ... redhead was now ... red faced, red necked and red legged.

But, wait ... there’s more. Doctor Professor Kathy is artfully arranged, knows it, flaunts it and teases when she is at the helm or tending sail. She loaned the Redhead a couple of postage stamps and a gun cleaning patch to wear with dental floss to keep it all in place...

“Bathing attire,” Kath said. “It’ll distract the other racers.”

It did.

But!

All the skin between face and foot was red too.

Kath was similarly attired and Ernie loaned me a clean too small piece of spandex ... Ernie is ‘fit,’ and HUNG and not a teenicist bit ashamed to distract the female crew of competing racers ... and I guess I distracted, too.

We did not win ... but we finished in time.

All through the last three years of my university experience ... spring, summer, fall, we spent weekends at the boat. I played double bass in the evenings with an easy listening musical conglomeration of locals at the Dam Bar, patrons danced and we were paid a trifling sum. I used my ill gotten gains to buy a set of North racing sails for the boat.

The Wednesday races were after class evenings. Most of the racers and crew were government employees or misguided Californians ... people who could afford a dangerous hobby ... and they worked until 5.

“Well,” I said, addressing K&E, “Are you two going to the concert in Great Falls?”

“Couldn’t get tickets ... sold out.”

“I can get you in.”

“Oh ... that’s right ... I forgot,” said Ernie. “You ... what?”

I shook my head and lightly jerked my head in the redheads direction. Kathy and Red were comparing and sharing. I mouthed, ‘She doesn’t know.’

Ernie grinned.