I'm writing this in a condo in Anaconda, Montana, on a week's vacation with my wife Kris, sister Jeanne and her husband, Dave. We're having a great time despite the inconvenience of a heavy duty cold we're passing around among us. Right now it's mine.
Last Thursday we made it as far as Sheridan Wyoming, where we stayed at a motel in a building that had once been a flour mill. Wyoming is the least populated state and driving across it you can certainly believe the census takers. Then on Friday we went on across northern Wyoming to Cody, through some light snow, and saw a family of moose (or possibly horses, they were at quite a distance). The Chief Joseph Scenic Highway was still closed for the season so we had to detour through some other very pretty country, but made it to Montana by nightfall.
Anaconda Montana was a very large town back in the days when copper was being extracted from the earth here. In fact, the town was to be called "Copperopolis," but believe it or not the name was already taken. Now the mines are largely gone and the town has shrunk, though still vibrant.
Montana is wonderful, almost more scenery than we can stand. Yesterday we drove to Glacier National Park, round trip nearly 500 miles. We saw mile after mile of rounded hills carved by glaciers now long gone, and pointy young mountains covered in snow. Part of the trip was through the Flathead Indian reservation, with roadsigns in both English and the local language, with an alphabet designed by Dr. Seuss, I think.
Montana has legalized casino gambling, so everywhere you look there's another gambling parlor. Some are surprisingly small. We peeked in the door of a casino at a gas station and saw about a dozen slot machines and a couple of weary-looking players. So, if you're ready to risk the monthly mortgage payment or the kids' college funds, there are people in Montana who will be more than happy to relieve you of your cash.
We haven't seen much wildlife yet, and that a little disappointing. Much of the Going-to-the-Sun Road is still closed at Glacier, and the portion of the park we drove on runs along the shore of McDonald Lake and is bounded on the other side by steep slopes. We did take a short hike up one of those slopes, constantly alert for grizzly bears, or other bears for that matter. I had purchased a small cannister of pepper spray in case we were confronted by a bear, so clung to it, ready to repel a man or woman eater, but no bears, and no sign of bears.
Dinner was in Missoula, a very attractive town with a restaurant that specializes in tapas, those mini-sized portions of food that always seem to be extremely tasty. Missoula appears to be the cultural capital of Montana, whereas Butte, near where we're staying, is described as a little "rough around the edges." Whatever that means - possibly that you shouldn't order daiquiris in a bar there.
Did I mention that we took a scenic drive on Saturday that included a trek up rough dirt roads (very bad for the shine I had just put on the car, and nerve-wracking concerning the possibility we might get stuck) to an old mining town, now inhabited only by ghosts? Southern Cross was its name, and it was occupied in the late 19th century mostly by Swedish and Finnish immigrants. When the mines played out, the miners drifted away, just leaving their buildings behind. Most of the buildings are gone now, but a few remain and we enjoyed seeing them.
Later today we'll visit a nearby state park where mountain sheep and goats are said to be residents, and tomorrow we'll visit Yellowstone, confident we'll get to see the animals that have eluded us so far. Wednesday and Thursday will be our days for seeing the local sights before we cannonball back to Colorado on Friday. If it's not quite the vacation of a lifetime, it's certainly good enough for us.
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