Despite my bravado, I really don't want to see a grizzly. Unless it's the tail end, running away. They are dangerous beyond comprehension. A much safer animal to watch is the prairie dog. Having been almost entirely exterminated from Montana by farming, there is a small colony in the Greycliff Prairie Dog Town State Park, west of Billings. I've written an ode to the fascinating creatures.
I arrived in Bozeman full of anticipation. I've got about ten friends including my girlie (hi Tara, I miss you!), who went to MSU. Despite a few stretches of alcohol-induced memory loss, they all remembered a few outstanding places that I should visit. Needless to say, most of them were bars. I guess there's not much else to do in college in January in Montana when it's twenty below outside and the pages of your textbook are frozen together. Hey, Kadillak, your world now makes a lot more sense to me.....and I think I like it.
The weather was perfect when I arrived: Slightly overcast, but warm and dry. I bolted to a fantastic
sandwich shop called The Pickle Barrel to mash a "South of the Border" sando down my gullet. A happy stomach, my map and an adventure-honed sense of direction led me to a mountain biking trail called Mystic Lake. That's one in the chamber; a real live banger, with 36 styles of danger. I'm talking serious singletrack action, cutting directly across a slope of about sixty degrees. Along several twists of the rocky, root-covered trail, I almost plunged like a fleshy snowball down the thickly vegetated slopes. A good dabbing technique can be most appropriate. Click on the photo to see me at the ride's destination, pumped to be there alive and riding strong. Bring the motherf***in' ruckus! That's 1999 exoticness, Wu-Tang style.I have to say that there is no other place I would want to be in June than the Montana mountains. They harbor simply the lushest, most aromatic outdoor lifestyle I have ever experienced. I think that the hills here define the color green in all its shades and tones. The locals imitate the seam-splitting plant life by bursting out of their homes to enjoy the unparalleled fishing, biking and camping. Bozeman, with its multi-faceted activity slate is especially sweet. Ride the trails by day, party your ass off by night.
Raw, I'm gonna give it to ya, with no trivia: Bozeman is being strangled along with dozens of other "smallish" western towns through which I've passed. Like Santa Fe, Park City, Jackson, et al, huge homes go up with no concern for the biotic communities which they cover up and snuff out. Of course, the most obvious consequence is that the average working citizen who lives in a place like Bozeman suddenly cannot afford to continue living there.
Beyond these direct economic concerns, however, few people seem to be concerned about the loss in recreational opportunities, environmental health and quality of life. Houses in Bozeman (a town of "higher education") are, even with today's water management knowledge, built right on top of known flood plains and the associated rich farmland. That's not very eduhhhhcated, B-town.The photo shown to the right was taken in Bozeman. It is literally the last open field on its block and through it flows a crooked stream. It will certainly be developed in the near future. I'm sure the people who plan to vacation in their new homes here will do so with the expectation of hearing a symphony of songbirds greet them each day. I don't think they will, because by covering up a moist, reedy, "waste" of land, they also remove the very place where the birds they
hope to live with are born. My peoples are you with me, where you at?After my ride at Mystic, I stabbed westward up a stretch of U.S. Forest land called Hyalite Canyon. I love the fact that all the No Shooting signs in Montana are all shot up. The forest roads in Hyalite were muddy and rutted and I mashed through them, squealing like a hillbilly on my way to the top. With a rollicking, "yee-haw", I found the perfect campsite at the top of a steep hill and was rewarded with a ruddy sunset that stretched across the ink-black mountain silhouettes like a glowing blanket. The night is my companion and solitude my guide; could I stay forever here and not be satisfied?
The following day, I drove into town and met up with my girlfriend's aunt and uncle, Kathy and Rick. They graciously let me chill at their modest crib in southeast Bozeman. Kathy took me on a short bike ride around town for the local flavor. One night they also escorted me to the Spanish Peaks Brewery for dinner and a couple of fine malt beverages. Thank you!
Before leaving the Bozeman region, I had to experience a day and some
biking thrills in the mountains north of town called the Bridger Range. The region is home to Bridger Bowl, perhaps the best kept ski secret in America. The Bridgers are steep, burly and tough-looking. Almost the entire range is within national forest boundaries and with a small amount of searching, I found five or six perfect places to camp out. Please smack the sheepish grin off of my face. Each unusual wildflower makes me giggle. Each gurgle from the stream is a peaceful lull on my conscience. Between meals and bike repairs in camp, I skipped around the woods like a freaking fairy. Everything issth thhhhhoo lovely. Shut up, my loneliness has driven me far beyond the realm of normal activity. Maybe it's just too much of that silly brew I've been drinking.After enjoying a final local ride (I give it a thumbs-up, Gene), a short pool-shooting night at the Crystal Bar, and a big
breakfast of eggs and toast, I packed 'er up and headed west once again. Here I come, Butte.The band named after a dildo said it best: This is the day of the expanding man; that shape is my shame, there where I used to stand. The impressions I get after visiting a rapidly changing area such as Bozeman are etched clearly in my mind. Health is the capacity of the land for self-renewal. Land is not merely soil but a support structure for all that we cherish and call "natural". When it is damaged or altered, land can recover, but usually at some reduced level of complexity, and with a reduced carrying capacity for people, plants and animals. A denser population requires more violent land conversion. The more violent the changes, the less probability that the land will successfully readjust. Like a kid with a chemistry set, Bozeman is testing the limits. We all need to stop waiting for the government to somehow take control of the problem. They already have their hands full with too much land management. The private sector and private landowners must manage their own land correctly and develop the concept of a land ethic to celebrate and promote biodiversity. It may be the only way that, in a few years, we will be able to live among ourselves.
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