Anyways, my body still thinks 6:30am MST is 7:30am CST, so I was up and about and trying to explore Bozeman before anything was open. Bust. So I got second breakfast at Nova (first one was free/included courtesy of hostel). I'll get all the seafood in Seattle. Being patient for Asian/Mexican in SF. And trying to loose some of that Wisconsin weight by avoiding winter comfort foods. So I'm in the great mountainous northwest for the bison. Bison chorizo omelette with Spanish rice, green onions, and pepper jack cheese to start. Which looked great. That bright orange oil. Eggs were as fluffy as they looked. Rice was undercooked. Bison chorizo was kinda grainy.. or is that how bison meat is? But I was an instant sucker for the merch. The eggs and bacon skull and cross bones thing. And I impulsively bought an $18 dish towel because.. I'm on vacation.
I thought I wanted to meander back through downtown Bozeman after the shops had opened... but I decided to head to Missoula a little earlier than planned. Not before snapping a pic of this coffee shop board that knows my meetcute fantasies.
On the playlist today - a selection from my elementary school CD collection i.e. BSB, NSYNC, Britney Spears circa Baby One More Time, and "Let's Get Loud". And I saw the cutest brown cow with the curliest hair, and it was just by the fence rocking its head back and forth like a automated stuffed animal. Gahhhhh. Also I think my cheeks are lightly sunburnt. Also, pretty sure I almost got rear-ended by someone to accelerates better than Sunny after a highway work zone. Considering taping a sign to my bumper that says something like "acceleration uphill is not a strength and I'm packed full of shit" because that was probably the scariest moment of my roadtrip so far.
When I read about the Garden of 1000 Buddhas outside of Missoula, I knew I had to go. Because how random and unexpected. Or so it seemed. Open space + mountains + peace and quiet + fresh and cold air = memories of the time my dad took me to Tibet... or somewhere close to there. And suddenly it seemed to make sense. No plaques or pamphlets to edumacate myself so I just wandered around taking pictures and wishing I was zen enough to meditate.
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| Love a restaurant with great artwork |
I thought I wanted to meander back through downtown Bozeman after the shops had opened... but I decided to head to Missoula a little earlier than planned. Not before snapping a pic of this coffee shop board that knows my meetcute fantasies.
On the playlist today - a selection from my elementary school CD collection i.e. BSB, NSYNC, Britney Spears circa Baby One More Time, and "Let's Get Loud". And I saw the cutest brown cow with the curliest hair, and it was just by the fence rocking its head back and forth like a automated stuffed animal. Gahhhhh. Also I think my cheeks are lightly sunburnt. Also, pretty sure I almost got rear-ended by someone to accelerates better than Sunny after a highway work zone. Considering taping a sign to my bumper that says something like "acceleration uphill is not a strength and I'm packed full of shit" because that was probably the scariest moment of my roadtrip so far.
When I read about the Garden of 1000 Buddhas outside of Missoula, I knew I had to go. Because how random and unexpected. Or so it seemed. Open space + mountains + peace and quiet + fresh and cold air = memories of the time my dad took me to Tibet... or somewhere close to there. And suddenly it seemed to make sense. No plaques or pamphlets to edumacate myself so I just wandered around taking pictures and wishing I was zen enough to meditate.
Does it surprise anyone that the University of Montana is basically equally as peaceful and quiet? For a solid Tuesday afternoon.. in between classes? What a refreshing change from the times I'd be flailing and gasping for air as I got swept up by a see of undergrads when I dared to venture outside of Babcock to go to UHS or something. It was also pretty cool that the campus was half enveloped by mountains (mountains on mountains in mt). And my tourist was definitely showing when I stopped to stare at and photograph a winding path up to this giant white M. Is this how Montan-ites work out?
Finally got my hands on a bison burger (before realizing one of my fave Madison burgers was actually bison...) at James Bar. I wonder how many people thought I was stood up as I awkwardly lingered by the hostess stand on my phone until some young man told me to just seat myself. But back to the food. Green chili bison burger - with a wonderfully sturdy slab of roasted green chili.. not mushed/sauced chilies - and chips... with a side of slider (beef, overdone quail egg, thick piece of bacon, pickle for balance, hot pepper cheese because duh, fried onion for crunch, mayo and mustard)... and water because I'm trying to eat healthy.
Halfway through, I started really wondering about bison vs cow. Like really wondering. Because it's not gamey, which is sort of the default assumption for any non-typical non-farm non-slaughterhouse piece of meat. Definitely a taste difference though I couldn't exactly pinpoint what. Like it was more tasteless. But not in a bad way. And the burger was juicier. But can you really compare a burger with a slider for juiciness?
To be more informatively determined tomorrow when I have the alertness and concentration to read the bison vs beef tabs I have open. I will leave you with this though... bison does not equal buffalo. Bye son.
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