"I'm not the type of person who needs a war to be patriotic. I think it (patriotism) is about actual land and people — loving the land and loving its wildlife. I try to define it a little differently."
Carl Esbjornson, Bozeman, at Montana Shakespeare in the Parks presentation of "The Tempest"
"I have lived in big cities,
but I think in cities you're cut off
from the wild springs of nature…
I don't know what it is, it's just something inside me I gained from being near wilderness."
-Chamber of Commerce employee and Bozeman resident Robert Ren Harrison (He's taking a picture of me as I interview him :))
This proud plastic palomino is owned by the American Legion. It rears over downtown Bozeman, Mont., population 35,000. I hear it's mechanized and can rotate, too.
Pony, Montana is considered a ghost town, but people do live here.
I love the anachronism of a reflector on an old hitching post.
Curious that the Bud flag gets to fly so high…
And how ironic I shot this building from the vantage point of the potholed road, since the next several days of my trip exploring the Tobacco Root Mountans were dominated by muddy, potholed roads. I never thought I'd crave a night in the suburbs (just one night to recuperate), but I did!
A turkey vulture flies over Lewis and Clark Caverns State Park, near Whitehall, Mont.
The famed Corps of Discovery never found these natural wonders, though. They passed them on their way through the mountains, along the Jefferson River.
Many of the limestone formations inside the caverns have been named clever things by park service guides. You're looking at a stalagmite called "Old Faithful" and in the lower right corner, a broken column dubbed "the Fallen Idol" that is estimated to weigh eight tons.
Cities to me are like people. Each has a complex personality based on its history and geography. Some places take longer than others to "get" and I hate to leave until I do.
Butte, Montana really didn't gel for me until my second afternoon driving through a mostly vacant downtown, under a dense, relentless rain cloud. I stopped around the corner from an old, supposedly haunted brothel with a mannequin in the upstairs window, hit play on my stereo and the Drive By Truckers came on, singing "Where the Devil Don't Stay."
Butte is a manly, miner's town. It's all orange bricks and pot holed roads. There are casinos around nearly every corner. Just standing in the middle of it makes me crave a PBR.
I haven't been to Pittsburgh, yet, but I think it may feel similar.
I spent a few days in this canyon, where members of several Native American tribes used to go (and still go, though it is now frowned upon) for their coming-of-age spiritual journies.
This cave is way way far up a rock wall. Not sure how to get to it, but it looks like someone found a way…
The Washoe Theatre still shows movies, using original equipment from the 1930s. Shows are $4; it's an extra 25 cents to sit in the balcony.
Inside, the theater is adorned art-deco style with ornate carpeting, drapes and fairy tale murals – most still original.
Anaconda resident Dianna Kellie works at the theater part-time and knows all the history. She made her own outfit, using photos in a 1930s catalog.
"As far as the recession, it hasn't really hit here because our recession hit back in the eighties when the smelter closed."
– Sally Ralston, co-director of the Copper Village Museum and Art Center and a 31-year resident of Anaconda, Montana
From Missoula to Butte, I decided to take Montana Highway 1 instead of Interstate 90.
Compared to many places in the country, it seemed almost unfairly beautiful – all the multi-colored (including
pink!) granite walls, water falls and sparkling Georgetown Lake.
Driving the route just before sunset, I finally felt like Montana smacked me in the face, as if to say: “Here you are, back in the garden, finally.”
Had I not just
spent the night in Phillipsburg, I’d have stopped
somewhere to camp.
But several miles down the highway, I got to Ananconda, and instantly fell in love… which sort of doesn’t make sense… The whole town — founded by copper magnate Marcus Daly — was constructed around a humongous smelter. Droves of working class families had their lives wrapped up in, hanging from a thread and sometimes destroyed by the profitability and work conditions at the plant, which was finally closed in 1980 because of dwindling copper ore.
There was a sort of depression and mass exit at that time. But in its heyday, Anaconda was quite the bustling city, with lots of cool buildings and its own silver screen theater.
As I drove through, I estimated based on the traffic, number of businesses, size of the public buildings and high school, there were
probably 40,000 or so in the city.
I was surprised to learn it’s now less than 8,000!
Another thing I noticed right away was the prominence of the Catholic cathedral and how tightly together all the houses are built. They were constructed by immigrants and migrants from the east coast who came to work at the processing plant, which explains why this rural Montana town has such a funky personality — as if it were a misplaced east coast city.
Only the stack remains from the smelting plant. At 585 feet, though, it’s a salient reminder.
In town, I went through a great exhibit of quotes and pictures that fleshed out the story of the miners’ lives.
This house is for sale:
And here’s one with some copper detailing:
The cathedral (one of several cool looking churches I didn’t make it inside):
And to keep things thematic, a little Americana action: