Two Tales

I had two things happen that I think are interesting stories. I keep thinking about them anyway. They both happened in Red Lodge, Montana.
The first one happened when we stopped at a laundromat to do some washing. We had just put our clothes in the washing machine and were sitting down to read the paper when a man entered. He was tall, gray haired and wore cowboy jeans and a cowboy hat. He sat down and turned on the TV without putting any clothing in the machines. Then he asked who had the car with the Arizona license plates. When I told him that it was us, he was off. We heard all sorts of interesting stories. He had skied in the area and, I think, was pretty near to being Olympic material. He said he skied with Jean Claud Killy, a famous French skier who won three gold Olympic medals in 1968. He was involved in the making of some skies with Leo Lacroix and he was good friends with a famous skier named Spider iSavitch who was killed by the French ex wife of Andy Williams. We heard all about his skiing and the fact that he attended school in Los Angeles. Because he was so handsome I asked him if he had ever acted. He gave me a surprised look and asked me why in the world I had asked him that. I said just because he had lived in LA and he told me that, indeed, he had been in a small part for a few days in the soap opera, The Young and the Restless, and had been amazed by how handsome in real life David Haselbeck had been. He went on a bit, here and there, about people with money but I had the feeling he had been raised in a wealthy family. He told me that he lived a couple of miles up the road in a cabin. Our clothes were dry by then and we folded them while he still talked on. I had to cut him short and tell him we had to go. Maurice found it interesting that he came to a laundromat just to watch TV. I just found him fascinating.

The second tale is one I overheard while having our breakfast at a hotel in Red Lodge. Two men sat next to each other and one man asked the other if he had the motorcycle across the road, a BMW, which he did. They were off exchanging various routes they had taken and what had happened. One man was taking his motorcycle to Santa Barbara. The other said he had come up over Bear Tooth Pass (which Maurice and I had just gone over) and he stopped because it was so windy. While he was resting, his helmet blew off of his cycle and down a mountain. He ran down to get it and while down the hill, heard a crash and got up the hill to find his cycle blown over. The motorcycle weighed 650 pounds and he couldn’t get it up by himself so he had to wave for help and a nice man stopped and helped him get it back up. This, among many other reasons, is why I won’t let Maurice rent a Harley Davidson.

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All photos are from the home of my room mate from college many years ago. It was fun to be together again and reconnect.

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