My friends Belle and Ray shared the recipe for a mason jar margarita with me a few weeks before I left. I’ve been fantasizing about sitting in my campsites thinking of them with a berry margarita in hand ever since.

When I arrived in St Regis, I stopped at a berry stand and a little grocery store to pick up the ingredients for my friend-conjuring-cocktail and some stuff for dinner. The grocer was friendly and on a whim I asked if she had any recommendations for local knowledge camping. She did! This is one of my favorite parts of traveling. I like meeting people who live in the little towns I visit, and asking them where to go and what to do.

She sent me to a dispersed camping site along a river a few miles from town. It was perfect and I arrived early enough to set up all of my things and cook on my little stove.

Things got pretty interesting just as it was getting dark.

Two men brought the oldest most inebriated cowboy, his old Malinois Jake, and his camper and dropped them off. They were going to park him right next to me, but I expressed concerns about our dogs fighting, so they kindly moved him down the road to the next site. They said if he or his dog wandered down to please just return them to their site!

A short time later two ladies walked down the road with rifles slung over their shoulders. I reminded myself I was in Montana now, and bravely attached my bear spray to my jeans.

Just as the stars came out, and I was slowly spinning to see all their sparkly brilliance, country music began to croon. . . Very loudly. And not just any country music, but a concert rendition, complete with loud recorded cheering after each song.

I settled into my camp chair and watched the stars, and saw a beautiful meteor streak across the sky to the tune of “you and me going fishing in the dark”.

It’s safe to say I had the true local experience that night!