When I was a kid, I'd ride in my grandparents' old Jeep on the long drive up to their summer cabin in the mountains.

When I was a kid, I'd ride in my grandparents' old Jeep on the long drive up to their summer cabin in the mountains. We'd always stop for ice cream at a little place in Evanston, Wyoming called the Dew Drop Inn. I always asked for a Black Raspberry milkshake, because the flavor sounded so exotic ... and they tasted wonderful.

This afternoon I finished up a long, hot day of fieldwork outside of Red Lodge, Montana, and I decided to celebrate with a milkshake at the little drive inn there. They had black raspberry, and it was almost as good as I remembered.

Comments

  1. How wonderful that it was still there. I'm sure you got photos!

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  2. Oh, yesterday's drive-inn is a totally different place, hundreds of miles from the one I stopped at as a kid. (That place is long gone.) Only the exotic black raspberry flavor still remains ...

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  3. Wonderful memories simmer in mysterious places.

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  4. Typical me, so distracted by the milkshake that I overlooked the geography!

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  5. I hereby declare "wanderful memories" to be a new and official phrase.

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