In 1985 my brother,Dad, a family friend and myself all took a trip up to Montana for a “guy’s” vacation, mostly to Trout fish, hike and campout. It was an incredible vacation; one that I’ll never forget.
On our way to Montana we also drove through Yellowstone National Park, which, if memory serves me, is mostly in the state of Wyoming. Yellowstone is an incredible national treasure that everyone should see. We saw “Old Faithful” while we were there. We also saw lots of Elk and Buffalo just grazing along-side the road, completely oblivious to our presence.
And yes it’s true about there being no speed limits on parts of the Wyoming and Montana backcountry roads. If you’ve ever been driving along a lonely expanse of backcountry highway in either of those states, you’ll understand why. There’s very little traffic on those roads, and because of the vast size of those states it would take a long time to putt through them at what we southerners would consider normal speed limits. Hence the reason for our 90-mile per hour cruising speed.
Once I saw the Montana countryside for the first time, I immediately recognized the landscapes in several western films I’d seen over the years -- films in which you would expect to see stars like John Wayne, Randolph Scott, Robert Duvall, etc. It was all very exciting! “Big Sky Country” they call it. Now I know why.
This was truly Jeremiah Johnson’s country and it sparked my imagination. I imagined seeing Jeremiah being pursued by an angry mob of Crow or Blackfoot Indians, or just as likely the other way around if you’ve ever read his story. A giant of a man he was, standing 6’2’ and weighing in at 250 lbs, which was extremely large for his day. No wonder the Crow and other nearby tribes had fear and respect for him.
Wild and beautiful, the mountains, plains, and valleys of Montana all had that lost-in-time look, as if nothing there had changed since the 1800’s. Along a trail leading up to one mountain-top lake in particular, we came upon an abandoned log cabin settlement, which looked as though it had only been abandoned a short time because of the well-preserved look the cabins had. The mountain air I suppose. We guessed it had once been a mining community because of the kind of tools left behind. There were pick-axes, shovels, and a few of those gold-sifting pans you’ve seen in the movies.
We camped out under the stars at night, eating Elk meat over a roaring campfire while we recalled the day’s adventures before retiring to bed. There’s nothing like eating Elk over a campfire out in the wilds of the Montana countryside, a dream come true if you like the outdoors and are not particularly fond of tourist-trap vacations, though they too have their place.
In the mornings we would bathe in a nearby mountain stream. We could only stay in a short while because of its bone chilling temperature. Wow, was it ever cold! I remember dunking my head underneath the water to wash my hair, only to feel instant pain, which then made my head feel numb after a minute or two.
Though diminished in numbers, the Grizzly Bear and Wolf still roam the landscape of Montana. I guess that’s one reason places like Montana still hold that mystical appeal to many an outdoorsman. At one point during our stay in Montana, we even saw bear tracks along the banks of another mountaintop lake, where we were fishing for Trout. Needless to say we stayed keenly aware of our surroundings, just in case.
That night, because I had seen the bear tracks earlier that day, I’ll have to admit it was a little hard getting to sleep. Every little forest noise I heard - twigs snapping, leaves rustling - seemed to invoke images of a killer Grizzly bear or Mountain Lion. You know the stories, the ones in Reader’s Digest where a Grizzly tears the unsuspecting hikers or campers to pieces. Gulp!
That never happened thankfully. And each succeeding night it got easier for me to sleep.
All I could think about for the next ten or so years was going back to Montana. I haven’t yet, but maybe someday.
