At 12:30, no parts in sight, we went for a drive in Andy's Valiant through the more destitute neighborhoods in Butte. We headed out a long dirt road with a view of Butte's newest pit, Berkeley East, looking for a mine-disaster memorial which we never found. On our way back to town we passed a colorful guy on a Harley who we though might be Evel Knievel, Butte's most famous export, and coming closer we saw that it actually was Evel Knievel. And though everyone in town swears that he's a jerk, we got all fired up. Tim crawled out the window and tried to crawl onto the back of Evel's hog, but Evel stood on his seat -- no hands -- and deflected him with a flying roundhouse kick in the ribs. Tim hopped backed into the car, satisfied. We were all fired up. Andy took the Valiant up to 70 on a dirt road around the pit. Tim shouted "let's go to Chicago!" and we all quickly agreed.

Touring in Andy's '68 Valiant may not be so bad. This first drive -- 26 hours or so from Butte to Chicago, assuming no more misfortune befalls us -- will certainly be the worst of it. We bought a roof rack at Wall Mart. Dianogah has offered to let us use their gear and to haul some of our luggage.

For quite a while I've felt that our years of touring in squalor were over. Perhaps since this will be our last tour for some time to come, the Gods have smiled upone us and have given us a real rock 'n roll experience. If nothing else it will give me something to write about.