My First Trip Across I-90 — Part 3
“If that giant was still around he never showed his face in the truck stop when I was there. And yes, I was glad.”
Yet another adventure from the daze of my youth.
In Part 2, I learned the true definition of fear when I narrowly escaped death by a giant. I’m linking all the parts together, so if you missed the beginning you can catch up by clicking on Part 1.
“If you want to hang out, you’ve gotta take her out, cocaine If you want to get down, get down on the ground, cocaine She don’t lie, she don’t lie, she don’t lie, cocaine” From Cocaine by JJ Cale
I can’t listen to the song, Cocaine, without thinking of Billings, Montana.
We were snowed in for a couple of days in that little truck stop near the Idaho state line, but not once did I venture back to the bar next door. If that giant was still around he never showed his face in the truck stop when I was there. And yes, I was glad.
Once the snow was plowed the interstate reopened and the drive to Billings was mostly uneventful, though much slower than in Summer. Everything that wasn’t plowed was white as far as the eye can see. Which is a long way in Big Sky Country.
Billings is the biggest town in Montana with a population roughly equivalent to High Point, North Carolina. As a matter of fact, the population of the entire state of Montana is only twice that of Guilford County, North Carolina. While Billings is the county seat of Yellowstone County it isn’t the state capitol. That honor goes to the gold mining town of Helena.
I arrived in Billings just before nightfall and as more snow was expected I decided to shut down for the night. When I awoke the next morning the interstates were closed again.
Everyone I spoke with there was surprised by my Southern accent and wanted to know where I was from. When one of the waitresses found out I was from Greensboro, North Carolina she immediately wanted to know if I knew Billy “Crash” Craddock.
It always amazed me that while so few here in Greensboro, North Carolina seemed to take Crash seriously, in places like Billings, Montana, all over the American West, and in Australia, Billy “Crash” Craddock was a god. Now I can’t say that I know Billy, but I had met him and his younger sister.
Of course, you’re wondering why I lead with a JJ Cale song that Eric Clapton made famous instead of:
“Rub it in, rub it in I feel the tingle begin You’re gettin’ under my skin Rub it in, rub it in…” From Rub It In by Layng Martine Jr.
More on that later.
One of Crash’s biggest fans was the sweet, dark haired cowgirl that was taken by the fact that I had met Billy “Crash” Craddock who just happens to live in the same city I live in, just a few years before.
A single mother, she wanted out of Billings, a warmer climate, and the possibility that she might someday meet Billy. (Not me, the other Billy) And despite the fact that her bosses forbid her from having flings with the truckers who were obviously just passing through, she arranged to pick me up about a block away from the truck stop that night, took me out for a night on the town, and took me home with her.
I would go on to see her a couple more times in the next few months only to walk in one day to discover some other man had swept her away to what I hope were greener pastures.
So why did I begin with the lyrics to Cocaine? That was the last song the cover band played at the dance hall that night before she handed me her keys, and asked me to drive her home. Yep, they covered Billy “Crash” Craddock too but it was Eric Clapton and Cocaine that really did it for her.
The daze of my youth continue in How to Cook Snapping Turtle.
