On Living in Montana

I used to call this piece “Living in Rural Montana” but I’ve finally realized that all of Montana is rural. This year, I noticed that there are cattle guards on the ramps to the Interstate highways. There seem to be a lot of accidents with cattle and horses ending up in the back seats of vehicles.

One of the locals plowed through the Blackfeet Tribe’s ceremonial herd of buffalo that had wandered out on the highway. He killed seven buffalo with his truck and walked away relatively uninjured. He is now touted as the greatest Blackfeet buffalo hunter since the 1890s.

People around here have interesting last names. It is most entertaining when listening to a high-school basketball game on the radio: “Calf Boss Ribs passes it to Comes at Night and a shot by Found a Gun! Chewing Black Bones gets the rebound, then to Aaaaaaye Jaaaaayyye Fiiiissssshhhh for the dunk!” (Yes, even with a short name like “A.J. Fish” the announcer manages to stretch it out...)

While at a party, a man told me about setting up his new satellite dish...beside the canvas-walled tent he lives in. I wish I had a photograph of that one. Now that’s rural.

This winter, our highways department has been using front-end loaders instead of snowplows. THAT’S winter when you have to survey to FIND the road, dig it out and THEN snowplow.

I’ve also never lived anywhere where there are windsocks on the road. I’ll take pictures for next year. Unless you ski, snowshoe or ice fish, it’s best to come visit us in the summer. It can fall on a weekend if you are lucky. People complain, but it’s called Glacier National Park for a reason...