dear diary.

I drove down to Missoula for the weekend. I had an amazing ass kicking mountain bike ride in the heat with Brittles and John. it was awesome to do my sports to the degree I like doing them. the next day we backpacked into the bitterroots, fought off mosquitoes, carried pepper spray and swam in a pristine mountain lake. it was a beautiful weekend!

sunday night I drove off into the woods to have a look at a rusting out old scout that someone is asking way too much money for. this is what lead me to find myself on a 10 mph single lane dirt road en route to garnet ghost town. one wrong turn and, BAM!, you’re in the heart of the damn ghost town. it’s hard to see little signs in the dark. in my book garnet has always been the freakiest ghost town I’ve ever seen. complete with the fact that it’s hard to get to, hard to get out of, and it wasn’t until recently that the last year round resident finally moved away. garnet was a considerably large town that sprung up in the middle of freaking nowhere, and till this day driving out of it, it’s hard to imagine (or believe) that this town ever came to be. at one point the town had sprung up four stores and four hotels, among many other establishments.

there’s nothing like being creeped out late sunday night just trying to find your way over the hill, out the other end. and hope that in the mean time, you don’t get a flat tire, or break down out on that rutted out awful boulder road. creepy. stay in your car. and what’s creepier, is that you can rent a cabin and stay in this town for the night. would you?