Getting to the Missoula KOA

With the address of our campsite punched into the GPS on my phone, I was rolling out the entrance to the airport, exhilarated.  So many sights to take in- mountains and open space.  This is not a Connecticut landscape, not even close.  Plus the blast of heat- it was 96 degrees and I’ve packed a winter coat…. The GPS says I go for a little over a mile, turn right and I think then I had 4 miles to go.  I’ve got this.

But now I’ve gone a ways, maybe even more than the 4 miles and the GPS isn’t telling me when to turn.  Time to pull over and investigate…. Thanks iPhone for letting me know that you’re nearly hot enough to fry an egg on from sitting in my map case and have to cool off before you can work. No big deal, I tell myself, just ask someone. 

I see the first girl up at the next night.  “Excuse me, can you tell me where the KOA campground is?” “Oh, um, I’m not sure, I heard it was on the south side of town.”  “Thanks” is what I say to her while thinking I better ask someone else.  I keep going straight and see someone else in another cross walk, headed to the gas station that’s also a casino. (Odd, but my observations lead me to believe that’s normal here.)

Victim number two: “Excuse me sir, can you tell me where the KOA Campground is?”  “No I can’t.”  “Ok, thanks anyway.”

A little bit of angst is setting in.  But there’s a kid blowing up some inner tubes at the gas station, I’ll ask him.

Victim number three: “Hey, do you know how to get to the KOA?” 

“Uh, yeah.”  

(long pause) “Can you tell me?”  

“Uh yeah, you have to go back to the bus station and make a left.”  

“Where’s the bus station?”  

“Up the road, you can’t miss it.”  

“Any idea how far it is, or what the name of the street is?”

“Uh, I think the road is Mullan, but you want to get on Reserve.”

“Ok, thanks.”

So I went up the road, not with 100% confidence, but it was better than my still too hot phone.  I saw Mullan, I made the left and then I got to N Reserve.  I’m going down the road and finally see an REI, which is supposed to be really close.  At the light I ask the person with their window rolled down, “Excuse me, can you tell me where the KOA is?”  Conveniently the light turns green and he tells me, go over the bridge and it’s on your left.”  When I do that, I land myself in a parking lot.  But have no fear, Missoula has more people to ask directions from!  

There's the girl with her dog in the old pick up with her window rolled down.  “Excuse me, can you tell me how to get to the KOA?”  “Yeah, of course.  Go over the bridge and make a right, it’s behind the buildings.” 

“Are you sure, because someone just sent me over the bridge to this side.”

“They don’t know what they’re talking about.  I lived there.” 

“Awesome, thanks!”

So back over the bridge I go, but this time into the REI parking lot.  I need chamois butter to replace the tube I gifted TSA with and they better know how to get me to the KOA.

Thankfully, they did!  Well, one sales associate tried to send me to the back of the building by going around the left and one sale associate tried to send me via the right.  But over to the KOA I went to meet my new friends for the next 3 weeks.

Pulling up to the campsite on my bike someone says, “Woah!  You look like a professional, riding in here like that!”

“Well, that makes me the best looking con artist you’ve seen today!”

I made it!  There’s an expression up in Maine, “You can’t get there from here.”  We’ll see if maybe the residents of Montana should take up the same philosophy.