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.
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.
How wonderful that it was still there. I'm sure you got photos!
ReplyDeleteOh, 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 ...
ReplyDeleteblack raspberry does sound exotic
ReplyDeleteWonderful memories simmer in mysterious places.
ReplyDeleteTypical me, so distracted by the milkshake that I overlooked the geography!
ReplyDeleteI hereby declare "wanderful memories" to be a new and official phrase.
ReplyDeleteapproving the declaration...*S*
ReplyDelete