Great Falls is a placid, peaceful place in the hot, high plains sun of a fair summer day. The dams have slowed the river, as the decades old loss of the copper smelter slowed the town. There are the tourists headed for the mountains and the breaks, but the town doesn't feel of them. Rather, it rests on the slow growing wheat waving in the wind, and its favorite son - charlie - still telling whoppers of the old west to green horns. Ex. The Holdup, on museum display. The old Mint saloon is gone, replaced by the ubiquitous gambling halls and, I suppose, soldiers on weekend base leave.
Chew and I took our evening walk from a bare bones motel room in east glacier. under the tracks, past the dominating lodge and the adjacent wooded rv park for workers, down a gravel road, stream crossing and back through the Amtrak station and over the BNSF RR.
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