Paradise Found, Lost, and Found Again
Here’s the part where all the bad hotels and breakfasts were worth it. As we drove toward our final destination for the trip, with not much hope left, we couldn’t believe the views. I think we pulled the car over ten times to stop and stare in awe of this beautiful place.
Unlike the previous day, the more we drove, the more we fell in love. And then, heaven on earth – we found a patch of 20 acre parcels for sale. Could it be?? We rolled into town and contacted the realtor who was listed on the sign. No answer at the phone or the door. So, we drove around to check out the town and have some lunch. Another great thing about this town, THEY CAN DO BREAKFAST (Regis)! And, pizza. And they brew the really tasty beer. I love it already.
We figured we couldn’t just sit around and wait for the realtor to call us back; we had one day left in Montana and we needed to take action. We strolled into Century 21. To this day, I am thankful we were there at that time and that place, because that’s when Harry Hollman came into our lives. Everyone in Red Lodge knows Harry. He knows every joke known to man. We have yet to start one that he can’t finish. He’s one of those few people who seem like they’ve never had a bad day, ever. Or rather, someone who has had bad days, but sucks ‘em up, learns from ‘em, and imparts the wisdom he gained to the rest of us in a funny anecdote. Harry fills up a room with his personality, and we love him. I always wonder what he thought of us that day.
Anyway, we were dead set on that patch of land, nothing else would do. However, Harry delivered the bad news that it was already under contract. We looked at other properties for sale, but nothing could match what we had set our hearts upon. So, dejected, we headed home to Atlanta with no land, but a lot of memories, and a promise from Harry to keep looking for us. Low and behold, a few weeks later, Harry called to say the deal on “our” land fell through! And that’s how we began the process of buying vacant land and learning about noxious weeds. Finally, it’s ours and every summer we go to Montana, spread out a tarp, and commune with The Land for a week.
It will come to you, this love of the land. There’s no gettin’ away from it if you’re Irish.
And that, folks, is how it happened!
The End (or rather, The Beginning)!