***Milemarker 333, the Halfway Point on Montana’s Highline***

Greetings, beloved, in the name of God the Father, the Great Spirit (John 4:24) and the Creator of all things, and the Lord Jesus Christ, the only One who can save us to God (Romans 5:1-2) and from God (Hebrews 2:3).

Current Location: Great Falls, Montana
Total Miles Pedaled = 846.3
Number of Near Death Experiences on the Bicycle = 1
Best D-Mart Treasures = Sun-dried Tomato & Basil Cream Cheese and a bunch of Capri-Sun drinks

Since my last update in Malta, I have pedaled another 200+ miles on U.S. Hwy. 2, otherwise known as Montana’s Highline, and we have been busy about the work of the Gospel here in Great Falls, one of the largest cities near our route thus far. Since Wednesday of last week, we have found refuge in the home of the Beierles, a precious couple whom I had never formally met until we arrived. Amazingly, all the way out here in Great Falls, Mrs. Lola heard about Matthew and me getting arrested for handing out Gospel tracts in Hickory, North Carolina last year. A friend from Great Falls, whose sister had seen it on the Charlotte News, passed the word along, and Mrs. Lola, along with many others across this nation, prayed fervently for us. She also sent an encouraging email to me and a strong opinion to the Hickory Police Department. Since, this couple has followed our ministry, and they were very kind to make their home a refuge for us in a place we had wanted to target here in Montana. The fellowship has been sweet as has the work of evangelism here on these streets. I am still amazed at all the good the Lord brought out of that arrest last year. So many we did not know from Adam prayed for us, and as a result of the incident, the Lord has put many faithful and precious believers directly into our path. Truly, we can “glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience; and patience, experience; and experience, hope: And hope maketh not ashamed” (Romans 5:3-5).

Oh, I have gotten ahead of myself. Back in the park in Malta, as Ricky and I huddled in the truck, waiting for the rain to cease, we decided to drive 18 miles back to the Sleeping Buffalo Hot Springs and fork out another $5.00 for a hot soak. That was at least better than sitting in a cold truck. What we quickly discovered was that the Lord was not finished with us in that place. Do you remember our divine appointment with Anthony? Well, we got to follow up with him a great deal. Truly, the Lord was doing something there, and I believe he is close to salvation. Also, we encountered Rose, a tattooed mother who worked at the hot springs “resort” and showed signs of a real difficult life. She was under conviction as I proclaimed the Gospel boldly. Rose spoke about having walked away from God years ago, but tears streamed down her face as we preached Jesus. Ricky and I prayed with her, finished our supper at the little poolside cafe, and then prepared to take a quick soak before returning to the park in Malta for the rainy night. Later, however, Rose returned and insisted that we stay there at the hotel free of charge. It was nothing fancy, but it was a warm bed out of the rain, and it was gratis. Oh, what a blessing. I was reminded of Jesus’ words in Luke 16:9. Staying the night, therefore, we were able to witness to lots of people: a droopy Canadian pervert who kept making obscene remarks about women, two of Anthony’s friends/co-workers, some young guys from Havre, and a skeptic with a devious smirk who thought the Bible was just a man-made book. All heard the message of repentance toward God and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ. ‘Twas a divinely ordained set of circumstances that we marvel about even now. The next morning, a hearty breakfast in the cafe was free, courtesy of Rose, and as we finally departed that place, we found this note attached to our door: “Thank you both for coming to the Sleeping Buffalo. One kept my eyes closed for a few years. Thank you and our God for opening them again. Be safe. Rose.” The credit goes to the Lord. Please pray for Rose and Anthony, two certain divine appointments in Sleeping Buffalo, Montana. Both are close to salvation; may the Enemy not steal the seeds that were planted in their lives. I told both that I would have many people praying for them.

After our night at the Sleeping Buffalo, the rain became more intermittent, and by late afternoon, it looked like I could at least get a few miles behind me before dark. So, around 4:00pm on the Lord’s Day, we again headed west. All evening, it was as if the Lord put a hedge of protection against the weather around me and the bicycle. Storms were all around, sometimes having crossed my path just before I pedaled through or just after. Originally, I had only planned to do about 40 miles, hoping to camp for the night at a rest area in Fort Belknap Agency on the Indian Reservation. Unfortunately, upon arrival, the rest area was a boarded-up dump; and both Ricky and I had a strong sense that we were not welcome in that place. The Lord pressed upon us to get out of there, but not before He gave us a couple of witnessing opportunities with Native Americans in a gas station parking lot. So, I kept pedaling and didn’t stop until my odometer read 70 miles. I cannot believe I pedaled that far, not having been able to start until late in the afternoon, but ‘twas not regrettable: incredible cloud formations, a glorious sunset, a bit of wildlife, my first glimpses of the Rockies (the Little Rockies and Bearpaw Ranges to the south), a huge red moon rising over the prairie, and the cadence of my tattered Christian flag flapping in the wind. Late, we rolled into Chinook and found a park on the outskirts at a water treatment plant. Amazingly, the place had a heated and very clean rest room with a hot shower—a weird and definitely unexpected blessing out in the middle of nowhere. Praise God!

***I found myself pedaling down US Hwy 2 as a giant red moon rose over the prairie.***

The next day, after witnessing to some elderly gentlemen in a Chinook bakery, the route continued on through Havre, where Ricky and I walked the streets and distributed Gospel tracts. Some socks went out in the name of Jesus to a few homeless, and later that day, Harvey Dustrude from Havre called my cell phone. Ricky had given him one of my Blunt Truth tracts that had the FPGM contact information on the back. Anyway, he called under real conviction, desperately wanting some more information. Tomorrow, I am mailing him a package with a Bible, some books, and a stack of those same tracts that he wants to give out to some friends. May the Word of the Lord not return void. Please pray for Harvey’s salvation. I knew that contact information would come in handy one day. The remainder of that Monday was sprinkled with a few more highlights: lunch and an afternoon nap in a Wal-Mart parking lot; bison meat spaghetti cooked in the parking lot of an abandoned school in a podunk Montana town; glimpses of freshly fallen snow on the Bearpaw Mountains to the south and the Sweet Grass Hills to the north; cold prairie solitude at dusk and a multitude of pronghorns, an owl, and lots of prairie dog roadkill. And, there was U.S. Highway 2 Milemarker 333, the HALFWAY point across Montana! So, help me God. All that day, the Lord again put a hedge around me against the weather. Torrential rain and hail could be seen falling all around, but it never dropped over me on the bicycle. Only as I finally rolled into the small town of Chester, after 84 miles, did I feel a few sprinkles. There, we camped at a highway rest area.

From Chester, it was about 55 miles over to where we packed up the bicycle and headed the 75 miles down Interstate 15 to Great Falls. That day’s ride was short compared to the day before, and finally, the main front range of the Rockies came into view. Soon, I will be out of this prairie and into the heart of the mountains. In Shelby, the last hub along Interstate 15 North before it ends at the Canadian border, we walked the streets, gave out some Gospel tracts, and talked to a group of punk teenage girls in the park. Tomorrow, Lord willing, I will resume the ride where we packed up along Highway 2 a few miles west of that town. Pray for me. These days of much-needed rest, I believe, have brought healing to my knee. It feels strong. Thanks for your prayers concerning this matter.

As mentioned, we have been parked here in Great Falls since the middle of last week. My bicycle has been in the shop, and I hope to pick it up tomorrow afternoon. I am also waiting on a care package scheduled to arrive from my wife tomorrow. Hopefully, I can pedal about 25 miles before dark tomorrow evening, stopping somewhere near Cut Bank. Anyway, much has transpired in this place.

For starters, I got my truck serviced at a local Midas, and this proved to be of the Lord. The mechanic found my transfer case plug missing and the transfer case therefore emptied of oil. I have no idea how or when this happened, but I’ve heard about pranks like this done to out-of-state vehicles on the Indian Reservations up here. Thankfully, no real damage had been done, and it’s now fixed. Again, the Lord directed our steps and protected us from a major problem far off the beaten path. Your prayers are being heard. Thank you.

The witnessing opportunities in this town have been abundant. Ricky and I hit up a local mall, the downtown streets one evening (where we gave out fresh socks and preached to some homeless, distributed a few Gospel tracts, and prayed with a lady concerning her rebellious son), and Saturday’s busy Farmer’s Market. Regarding the latter, we found a grassy spot in the public park, a place that saw lots of foot traffic between the two main sections of the market. There, I set up the paintboard and preached open-air for about four hours. Ricky distributed a mess of Gospel tracts, and many heard the Word of God. Early on, the manager of the Farmer’s Market came over and tried to shut us down. I calmly explained that I was on public property and had every right to be there. I invited him to call the police so we could talk about it and was intent upon taking the same stand we took in Hickory last year. Marv, the manager, got so angry at me and hurled a few threats right there in front of a bunch of people. I coolly responded, “I’m sorry you feel that way, but I am not leaving.” The preaching continued until the market shut down, and Marv never came around again. The Lord protected us from the authorities as we had prayed before getting started.

***Paintboard preaching at the Farmers Market in Great Falls, Montana***

I recall numerous encounters from the market that covet your prayers: some teenage kids who had never heard the Gospel and had never owned a Bible; Angie, a tattooed and multi-pierced atheist who took one of Mark Cahill’s books and promised to read it; a college kid who had read a little too much of Dan Brown’s farcical nonsense; and several Christians whom we exhorted to be witnesses for Jesus. All in all, ‘twas a good day of bold preaching and evangelistic outreach. I was hoping I hadn’t dragged that paintboard with me on this journey for nothing. Here’s a little video footage from the Farmer’s Market:

As busy as we have been here in Great Falls, Ricky and I found time to saunter along the Missouri River, following in the footsteps of Lewis & Clark. Oh, to have seen these places as those explorers did. What is happening to this world? Even so, come quickly Lord Jesus. Anyway, down near the river bank, we watched some baby Great Horned Owls fidget in the cottonwoods, reminisced about the trip on an exposed bluff, and listened to the clear bubbling waters of Giant Springs. The escape was much-needed and refreshing.

***This baby Great Horned Owl was in a cottonwood down by the river bank in Great Falls.***

We also went hiking in the nearby Little Belt Mountains, and I bagged a small 8,290 foot peak. After more than 800 miles of prairie, it was weird slogging through snow, coniferous forest, and along a barren ridge that sported views of distant storms, prairie expanse and the mighty Chief Mountain to the northwest, surrounding crags, and deep valleys. There was a stillness up there that was intoxicating. All praise to the Maker of the Mountains (Amos 4:13)! The time we spent up there in corporate prayer energized us for the work at the Farmer’s Market the next morning. Later, as we investigated a sweet little waterfall, Ricky and I ran into a guy from Great Falls who knew about Newton and Conover, North Carolina. Weird? We got to witness to this man, and he took a Gospel tract--a fitting end to a memorable outing.

Well, this Lord’s Day has come to a close as has our time here in Great Falls. Fittingly, so should this email update. The hour is late, and I must rest. Thanks for all your prayers and continued support. The Father continues to provide, and the Word continues to go out. Pray for us this week as we cross the mountains and strive for Milemarker 0 on Highway 2 here in Montana. Then, it will be a short stint in Idaho to the international border, a break from the bicycle to target nearby Spokane, and then the long expensive route through Canada will begin. Pray that the Lord continues to meet our needs. Gasoline, by far, is the greatest expense, and it is now around $4.00/gallon in Canada. Soon, I also have to buy the plane tickets for my wife and daughters to fly up to Alaska and rendezvous with us in Anchorage. Pray that we can get cheap fairs. I had hoped to return to North Carolina to be with my family for a week before heading into Canada, but for the moment, the chances of this are looking bleak. The will of the Lord be done. I miss my three girls something awful. Pray for us as we have to be apart.

This morning, as we joined the Beierle’s for worship at their church, I noticed a big map of the world on the foyer wall. I looked at how far we had come and then saw how far there is yet to go. I felt weak in the knees and lightheaded; I had to sit down. Can we beat the winter? God knoweth. As for Ricky and me, we take it one day at a time. The Lord is good; His mercy endureth forever.

For the Word of God and the Testimony of Jesus Christ,

Jesse Boyd & Ricky Springer

montana's highline