
Okay, so here's the story about milkshakes for breakfast. I was going to share this story with Caley, but decided it might be fun to share this story with everyone else. When I was a kid, we used to go camping at Hebgan Lake every summer for two weeks. For those of you not familiar with Hebgan Lake, it is near West Yellowstone, and was the epicenter for the 1959 earthquake. Anybody wanting more info should Google it. We vacationed there every summer for two weeks for many years. Many of us have fond memories of these vacations. Between the first and second week, we used to go into West Yellowstone to the laundromat to do laundry and take showers. I don't ever remember going to the grocery store to load up on provisions. I am stating this fact so that the reader will know how loaded down our camper and boat were. We had enough food and provisions for the full two weeks.
The particular year in question of the Milkshake Incident, we lived in Missoula. I don't know how far it is from Missoula to Hebgan, but it took hours--maybe 8-10? to get there. Once we got to the lake, it was about another hour's drive to the campsite. We used to go to Spring Creek Campground which is on the South side of the lake. At that time, that side of the lake was mostly undeveloped, so the road was this one lane path that wound through the mountains. A lot of times in June, there was still snow on the ground or it had just left, and the road was treacherous with mud. Later on, they built that fancy wide gravel road that went to the Watkins Creek Dude Ranch. Compared to the old road, it was like a super highway! Another reason we only went into town once--it was hard to get there. Anyway, we left Missoula very early in the morning, all loaded down. After starting, out, it became very clear that there was something wrong with the pickup. It would go a little ways, and then die...go a little ways and die. Any of you familiar with the Missoula area, going east and a little south on I-90, will know that there aren't too many towns along the way. After about two hours, we made it to Drummond, which is about 60 miles from Missoula. Since we used to leave at the butt crack of dawn, it was possible that it was only 8 AM when we arrived in Drummond. While waiting for the local mechanic to open up his shop, we went to the Drummond Cafe for breakfast. As kids we didn't realize it, but you can imagine how exasperated and frustrated my parents must have been. I was probably in Junior High, so my sister would have been about three or four years old. Maybe I was in HS and she would have been about Kindergarten age. Anyway, we stopped for breakfast, and while waiting to order, my sister got it into her head that she wanted a milkshake for breakfast. She asked my mom if she could have one, and my mom said, "No. Not for breakfast." But my sister, being a very persistent and stubborn youngster, kept it up, asking about milkshakes and questioning why she couldn't have one. For those of you who have ever had young children, you will know what I am talking about! After several minutes of this (and I have told you how frustrated my parents were already!), my mother finally blurted out the famous words we will remember forever: "FINE! We'll ALL have milkshakes for breakfast!!!!" And we did. Turns out there was an electrical connection problem with the pickup which was easily fixed and after breakfast, we continued on our way down the road.