Ask anyone in Montana and they will tell you, “Montana is a small town with really long streets.” After driving across half of what is a very large state and being here now for two days I think I can tell you Montana is more like a long street with really small towns.

No “street” in Montana is longer than U.S. Highway 2.  It runs the entire length of the Big Sky State for 664 miles and it is never more than 60 miles from the Canadian border. The locals call U.S. Highway 2 and the area bordering it “Hi-Line.” It gets its name from the railroad that runs parallel to U.S. Highway 2. It is part of the Great Northern Railway and it is America’s northern most east-west rail line.

Havre is the center of Hi-Line; an oasis of sorts in an otherwise desolate and wild frontier. It has a population less than 10,000. The next largest city is Great Falls, which is 2-1/2 hours away. There are more deer here than people.

Everyone here is so friendly. I have been approached by several strangers on the street who just wanted to say “hi.” Today, while waiting at one of the few stop lights in Havre, a truck pulled up alongside me and the older gentleman inside rolled down his window (literally).

“Where ‘ya from, boy?”

“Madison, Wisconsin.” I yelled, trying to cut through the sound of our idling trucks. I said Madison because he probably never heard of New Glarus. Hell, there are people in Wisconsin who have never heard of New Glarus, Wisconsin.

“My wife is from La Crosse,” he said.

The light then turned green. As we both pulled away slowly from the light he continued to talk to me through his window as we both drove parallel down Main Street in Havre.

“Well, welcome to Havre! Hope you enjoy your stay,” he said.

“I’m sure I will. I’m sure I will.”

A different man approached me in the middle of the night as I was moving in my very large wooden chest. He asked if I could use some help.

“Probably, but I think I will try to manage on my own if it is all the same to you. Thank you very much for asking, though.” I answered back; almost out of breath.

He is a young chiropractor who moved to Havre last year from Michigan to open his practice. He lives next door and invited me over for a beer. I told him I would be happy to join him after I was all settled in.

“I look forward to it,” he said.

I have been approached by complete strangers in the grocery store, at the post office, and while walking down the street. All they wanted to do was say “hi.” I was also invited into another person’s house for a cup of coffee. I don’t drink coffee, but for some reason I obliged. I don’t know; maybe I look like I don’t belong here…and they know it.

Then again, maybe this is how they  treat each other here. I’m beginning to think it’s the later.

I have all of my belongings moved into the house and will spend much of the weekend arranging Tranquility Base. My computer system is up and running, which is good because I plan my first photo excursion tomorrow and will need it to edit my photos. I will head south into the Bear Paws Mountains at first light. I then plan to explore Havre.

A few more people are sure to come up to say “hi.”