Since the last week of June, I’ve been to Clear Lake, S.D., back home, to Park Rapids, Minn., for July 1-3, then drove 900 miles overnight to Choteau, Mont., for a one-performance rodeo on the Fourth.
I knew I was going to be rolling in just after the performance started, so I put on my makeup while driving. I made it just in time to unload the fire truck, get it ready and rolled into the arena. After the firetruck act, I did some walking-and-talking humor to finish the rodeo performance. Then I loaded up, collected my check and laid out in the pick up to nap for a bit. I stayed a couple of days at a friends place in nearby Great Falls, Mont.
After that, I rolled across the border into Canada. I was north of Calgary about two and a half hours in a little village of Benalto, which may be as large as Mt. Vernon, S.D. Benalto is rural, and people stayed in campers and tents to make it a week end out of it. It seemed to be primarily an older generation camping.
The committee people are down to earth, friendly and helpful. The announcer wasn’t real seasoned but did fair. I’ll take that over an arrogant one any day.
The weather is in the high 70s during the heat of the day. The committee put me up in a rented RV. There were no linens or towels, etc. I found a light blanket in the clown trailer and put it to use. It wasn’t plugged in last night, and I woke up shivering. I found the gas was hooked up and on, so I lit the stove for heat for a while. That’s roughing it, I guess.
It has been a while since I’ve been awaken by the loud speakers announcing something. In Benalto, it was a kid rodeo. Oh, well; it is what it is. I believe life is what we make it, and I’ll make it a good time.