Tonight I write to you from the lounge at the Comfort Inn in Bismarck, North Dakota. This place is actually pretty busy, which speaks volumes about the amount of stuff there is, or isn’t, to do around here. There was actually a birthday party up in here last night. At the Comfort Inn. It’s never a good sign when the Comfort Inn hotel bar is busy. So far I’ve only been to two places where the trashy hotel bar was actually a destination for people other than the patrons of the hotel themselves: Cross Lanes, WV, and now Bismarck, ND. That’s not exactly select company. I get the impression about the only things people do for fun around here are work an oil rig, drink, and watch the North Dakota Fightin’ Sioux play hockey (while drinking of course).
So far I’ve been pretty impressed by the amount of nothing around here. And coming from a dude who spends a fair amount of time in the mountains, and West Texas for that matter, that’s saying something. The plant is a touch over an hour from the hotel in a little town called Stanton, which in and of itself speaks to the nothingness, we couldn’t even find a hotel within 50 miles of the plant and that’s hard to do. Or not do I guess. Whatever, you get the point.
The drive is kinda pretty in its own way; all the nothing made for a pretty sunset this evening. But that’s about where the charm ends. It was an unseasonably balmy 50 degrees today, but by the end of the week we’re due to get some more appropriate January in damn-near-Canada weather. We’re looking at highs around 20 by the end of the trip, which from what I hear isn’t even close to bad for this place, but even for a Colorado boy, that’s just too damn cold.
I suppose this is about what I expected. I didn’t harbor any delusions of grandeur for this trip. So I’ll do me some work, earn me some OT, and try to steer clear of the drunken rough-necks in the lounge and with any luck I’ll make it home sans-frostbite and without being stuffed into a wood-chipper.
Wish me luck.