What's yer sport?

Watching all the wonderful tennis this weekend (yes, I've become a convert -- I used to think it was the equivalent of watching a game of 'pong' with its hypnotic blips) has made me wish I were more of an athlete. But like they say, if wishes were horses, etc.

About the closest activity I can claim as a kind of sport is my twice-weekly sessions of deep water running at my local pool. The photo above holds a rack of flotation belts for participants in the class. Only, I'm the odd one out who doesn't choose to wear one.

I'm not sure whether it's the 'built-in flotation belt' I seem to wear around my middle, whether I'm in the water or out, or whether I'm just more buoyant than many people are. Whatever the reason, I don't choose to wear a belt. And since the activity is one that I enjoy, I manage to remain fairly faithful, year-round.

Maybe in my next life, I'll do something requiring more training and skill. But for now, I'll just keep runnin'...

Camping, with all the trimmings

Once we turned back towards home, we took some time for relaxing and stopped in a town that had caught our attention on the outbound trip, Deer Lodge, Montana. This was my morning view from bed, out the back window of The Rattler. Kind of made me want to stick around...

It's just a little bit of a town, but they've kept so much of their history, there's plenty to see and do.

You can visit the Old Montana Prison which has been converted into a museum.

The gift shop there is lots of fun, even for a non-shopper like me. Who knows, you might want to buy yourself a pair of the traditional striped prison garb. Despite their sad history, they look as though they'd make excellent pyjamas.

There's also an auto museum and a free-to-explore outdoor collection of classic rail cars.

But maybe my favourite attraction in town was the Olympic size swimming pool where I spent a vigorous half-hour (before they closed for the day) making up for some of the time I've spent sitting in the front seat of the RV as we sailed down the highways. And lucky me, aside from the lifeguard reading her book beside the pool, I was the only one there. Twelve feet deep and over 80 degrees Fahrenheit. Might be reason enough to go back.

For now, I reckon I'm satisfied to get onto the road back home.