Though we made a spectacular sweep over the mountains as we flew in to Bozeman airport, the airport itself was in an enormous flat plain. The drive started dismally, seemingly all trailer parks and dodgy looking casinos, plus several new housing estates with everything looking the same. But things soon improved, as we drove up through a gorge by the Gallatin River, with soaring rocky outcrops reminiscent of mediaeval castles. At our destination some helpful lads in cowboy hats relieved us of our bags. Presumably they've moved on from the days of John Bozeman, the city's founder, who made a living out of fleecing newcomers.
A view from our condo (what Americans call a self-catering holiday flat) the first morning included some interesting icicles.
Not to mention a real Rocky Mountain, almost up to Alps standards. Is this Lone Mountain? If not, I stand corrected.
To be continued.
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