What are friends for?

Jon gets his wallet back.
Tom J. photo! (Now he wants credit.)

To give: JON'S MDA DRIVE


We rode from Augusta toward Great Falls, and, about 7 miles out, a car wheeled to a stop in front of us, and it was Terri, the manager of The Bunkhouse in Augusta, where we'd stayed the night before. She waved something in front of me -- my wallet! I hadn't even known it was missing! Thanks goodness she'd found it! And been kind enough to drive it out to us! Thank you, thank you Terri. I've been petrified of losing things on this trip, and still have lost things -- but the wallet! It's kind of important.

We rode about 40 miles to Vaughn, outside of Great Falls, and had half a mind to push on to the city until a pickup-driving youth carrying motorcycles stopped and told us a big storm was brewing and we'd better seek cover. We could see it -- an angry black cloud lingering over a mountain in the northwest, and we rode back to a three-room motel connected to a bar -- The Office Bar & Motel, where apparently they do paperwork while drinking and renting rooms. We had negotiated with this establishment on the phone about getting a place, and it was hard to make out whether they really had a room or not.

They did, and it was fine. Not the Marriott, but fine.

I went to the bar and met Jerome, who said it was their monthly "birthday" night, where everybody eats free. Maybe it was a potluck. A bluegrass trio was playing, and Jerome got up and led me through the buffet tables. Fried chicken, taco salad, beans and hamburger, even whipped cream and fruit. It was all great. And the bartender even gave me a free coke. They were all local people, regulars -- guys in cowboy hats and big belts, women poking fun at them, and the woman bartender trying to find the piece of chicken that fell off her plate. No telling what goes on in the bars of America, but this felt like family.

This morning we had breakfast at Lippi's in Great Falls -- Tom a pork chop and eggs, me the Big Mess breakfast -- and arrived at the Marriott. That's right, the SpringHill Suites Marriott in Great Falls. A benefactor who asked to remain nameless had set this up. There was a big storm outside, rain so hard the streets flooded, but we were warm and cozy.

Sarah comes tonight to stay a night and pick up Tom, and I will be sorry to lose him. He built a fire when we were freezing, he zipped up my jacket when my fingers wouldn't function, he set the pace on the bike, and overcame significant pain. Not everybody does that, even for a friend.

Waffle Wednesday at Mel's Diner in Augusta.

Shannon, of the staff of the SpringHill Suites, where we got to stay.

A couple of grizzled old fogies.