We arrived around 4 o'clock on Friday, brought all our stuff in, and relaxed on the bed. Aaron on his phone, me on my computer. We were headed to the Battle of Little Bighorn that evening so it felt nice to relax for a bit.
About ten minutes went by and then my hubby looks at me with a look of pure disgust and exclaims, "I smell puke". Sure enough, wafting into our noses was the horrible smell of vomit. We jumped off the bed and begin sniffing around, trying to find where the smell was coming from. We sniffed the garbage cans, beside the bed, under the bed, the bathroom, but could not distinguish a set place! It was baffling. We came to the conclusion that maybe it was a one time thing (the person beside us must have fallen ill), and decided to head to TBOLB. The smell would surely be gone by the time we got back.
We arrived back at our hotel a few hours later and it wasn't long before the smell began wafting by us again. "WHERE is that COMING from?!" was exclaimed by us more than a few times that evening. It wasn't a lingering smell - it would come and go.
"Maybe it's your socks," I said as a last resort to Aaron. We were completely stumped. Aaron's socks did indeed smell, but it wasn't the smell we were smelling.
"I feel like I'm sitting in one of those twirly rides at the fair," My hubby mentioned. We had a good chuckle at that, and decided to ignore the smell the best we could.
After three days, we never got to the bottom of it.
But we did have a great trip, otherwise. It's hard to believe it has already been a year since we said "I Do," but I have a feeling the next year will go just as fast.
While in Billings, we hiked about 6 miles or so on top of the Rimrocks which overlooked the city. It was a beautiful, clear, summer day and we could see the snow-capped Beartooth Mountain Range in the distance.
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