The former name of the first bar in a town called Big Arm. Note that I say the first bar, to delineate it from the second bar in the town of Big Arm, with its 70 residents. Both bars have been successful, as in the norm in Montana.

Outside of the bar in the small, gravel parking lot sit two perpetually parked vehicles. One is a old style grey minivan that looks designed to haul the youngin's to and fro from soccer games and school plays. The other is a nicely painted navy blue crew cab dually truck with a bed that looks like it's about to fall out. Despite what appears to be a recently applied coat of paint, the truck gives off a definite aura of not being road worthy.

Why am I mentioning these two vehicles? Simply because I drive past this bar every day, and have driven past this bar every day for as long as I can remember, and every day, EVERY DAY, at EVERY TIME, be it morning, evening, or dead of night, these two vehicles have been parked in front of the first bar in Big Arm. Occasionally the truck bed will contain lengths of wood, the kind used in small construction projects, but I have seen no evidence that it is being used as anything other than a storage facility.

The grey van has been an altogether uninteresting object, with no visible activity whatsoever. It is everpresent at the side of the navy blue truck. The only other automobile I can recall being parked in front of the bar is the brown truck belonging to the alcoholic mother of a somewhat mentally retarded neighbor that I haven't seen in years.

The parking lot can also serve as a nice place to wait for a bus in very early weekend hours. I've gotten a few strange looks when asking to be picked up at the bar, but the endless supply of empty beer bottles provides some entertainment while waiting. There is also a small, low, cigarette covered concrete platform to sit on that serves as the base for the "BAR" sign:

For unknown reasons, the Big Arm Pit Stop is now known as just "BAR".

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