You may notice that I've not written since when I wrote about the wolves and my visit with my daughters to Howler's Inn in Bozeman, Montana. After catching my breath after the start of 2006, and then a trip to the West Coast in early February to visit my parents, I was about to settle down to work on my second book when an early morning phone call altered my plan. I was needed back in Bozeman for a family matter.
As you can probably attest, life goes on even during a crisis. And so it did for me during the month of March in Bozeman. Though it was a time of stress and matters beyond my control, I felt showered from time to time with those little unexpected surprises that seem to lift your spirits. In the beginning, when quiet and rest were needed, the first blessing came in the form of house sitting in a beautiful and serene setting with sun setting on the Spanish Peaks. When my daughters and I needed light moments, joy and celebration was our friend when my daughter, Leas, performed in The Vagina Monologues. More special surprises came when I sat in with my oldest daughter, Nicole, during her shift as a 911 dispatch operator. I had the privilege of seeing her handling emergency calls with calm professionalism. I was so proud of them both.
On one occasion, while headed toward Billings, I ended up having a marvelous experience in spite of a somewhat challenging two hour ride. I was on I-90 going east and hit fog. Then, I passed a logging truck around Livingston, enjoyed the Absaroka Range, and watched the Yellowstone River dip back and forth from one side of the road to the other. The open prairie and rolling hills seemed vast yet there was plenty of excitement for snapping photos along the way. Somewhere around Big Timber, or beyond, a sleek train roared down the tracks just north of the Interstate. To the south, the rugged Beartooth Mountains jutted in the far distance. Just past Reed Point in Sweet Grass County, I snapped a photo of an old car that caught my eye. After arriving in Billings, I snapped a photo of the Rimrocks, the most striking natural feature that rise 400 feet above the Yellowstone Valley and run the length of the city and beyond.
Another day, my destination was the Butte area. Another town I'd not driven to before. But, in my mind, it seemed reasonable that if one could survive the New Jersey Turnpike, one could certainly handle the Interstate in Western Montana. However, that declaration was made before driving to Butte because, boy, was I in for surprises.
Once you get past Manhattan, Montana and Three Forks, there isn't much out there except the Lewis and Clark Caverns. Once you start going through Deer Lodge National Forest and crossing the snow covered peeks of the Continental Divide, you feel as if you could almost touch Heaven! I'd crossed the Continental Divide once before in Yellowstone National Park, but didn’t have any photos for posterity. This time, I had my digital camera at my fingertips and readily clicked away.
My month in Montana and Big Sky country, even in March with still freezing temperatures and snowy days, changed my perspective. Walking the land where the West was won helps gives someone, even a California transplant, renewed fortitude to forge ahead.
Top Blonde taking the day...see you next time!
