Montana Monster

Back in the 1960s US Highway 93 could take you from Mexico to Canada. In the South it crossed Hoover Dam and up North it went past Glacier Park in Montana and on up to Eureka. There were a lot of accidents on that popular 2-lane, spawning the bumper sticker, "I drive Highway 93...Pray for me."

In the summer of my 13th year I traveled to Ronan, MT with my older brother to see my grandma. He owned a 1967 Pontiac Bonneville convertible with bucket seats and a 400 cubic inch engine. I could go on about that car for several pages. We had our visit and were on our way home when Gale pulled over on the shoulder and asked me if I wanted to drive. I WAS THIRTEEN, of course I wanted to drive. He grabbed some toilet paper out of the glove box (it was Montana in 1968) went up and disappeared behind this big rock. I slid into the driver's seat, grabbed that steering wheel and imagined myself going a hundred miles an hour down that beautiful road.

Reality slapped me in the face when I heard this agonizing scream. I snapped my head toward the rock expecting to find a grizzly eating my brother. Instead I saw a sight that stunned me beyond imagination. Running toward me, naked from the waist down he came, carrying his pants in his left hand and a streaming roll of paper in his right, "GO! GO! GO!" He flew through the air and landed in the back seat just as I slammed it in gear and hit the gas.

I was terrified, my brother was what you call a man's man, nothing scared him, it might have been Sasquatch himself behind that rock. I didn't know for sure what was after us but it wasn't until he got his pants on, crawled over the seat, sat down, and told me to back off that I backed off. We were doing a hundred and seventeen miles an hour (it was Montana in 1968, good days) "What was it? What was back there?" He looked at me then, his face mirroring the panic I felt, "A bee!"

Did I tell you about the part where I, when at my Grandma's house, caught a bee in some tissue and stuffed it in the center of this toilet paper roll so it wouldn't sting anybody? I put that roll back in my brother's glove box and forgot about it till just then.

I was thirteen, I drove a Pontiac Bonneville convertible a hundred miles an hour. I saw my brother running terrified and naked through the woods. I sure hope he never finds out where that buzzing monster came from but I'm sure glad I caught it. From then on I always had a private thought whenever I saw one of those stickers. I drive Highway 93...Pray for me...that I don't get bit where my big-bad brother got bit by a bee.

Driving Tip: I read once that some people plan their drive by meal stops: If we leave at this time we can eat lunch here, dinner over here, and stop for the night when we get to here. Other people just get in the car and go. I think all people need to do a little pre-trip planning. You need to realize that if you leave at a specific time, you will be driving through Chicago at 5:00 local time.... A bad idea. Leave earlier or later, or maybe find something exciting to do just before you get to a big city at rush hour. Something that will kill a couple hours and be much more enjoyable than sitting in traffic. That roll of toilet paper in the glove box is pretty useless in a traffic jam. If a bee gets out, it will just make things worse.