Lincoln

I never cease to be amazed at the raw beauty that can be found in Montana’s landscapes. I drove to Lincoln through the Flesher Pass on Highway 279. The roads were dry (thankfully) but the trees and mountains had lingering snow from the last storm front. With the sun breaking through intermittently, it was a picturesque moment.
Lincoln is a quiet mountain town made famous for an infamous resident. However, the town reflects nothing of the sort. The school is made to look more like a mountain lodge on the outside than an ordinary school.
The PTSA sponsored my visit and the students (especially the younger grades) were excited to have me there.
It’s funny that one question is ALWAYS asked at each school and this was no exception: “How old are you?” My response usually involves a lesson of good manners (“it is not usually proper to ask someone their age”)…but I tell them anyway.