Big Sky State

Even just driving has been exciting. Since Yellowstone, we’ve gone through the entire length of Montana, south to north. It started off beautiful, mountainous, and lush. While there was a noticeable lack of trees, the grass was green and we passed multiple rivers and lakes.

“When I grow up, I want to be rich enough to own a house in the middle of nowhere,” said Sophia. We all agreed and promptly divvied up the land. I selected a spot behind a hill, far away and out of view of Rte. 15. Sophia wanted a place along the river (the Missouri, for those who care). And Isabelle mused that Montana just might be the perfect place to put that cabin she’s been talking about building (by hand) lately.

We end up camping in a Podunk town called Townsend, and play bocce under the gigantic sky. BIG SKY. It’s instantly obvious where the nickname comes from. The mountains are far away but still visible, which makes the sky feel enormous. We tried to stay up to see the stars, but at 11:00 pm it was still pretty light, and we dozed off before we could see it.

Today, after driving five hours or so, our attitude has changed. WHO WOULD LIVE HERE?! Is the general query—it’s flat forever in all directions, salt is visibly leeching from the earth, and it smells like cow. Better than sulphur maybe (and it’s possible that we smell even worse…we hope to shower in Calgary). I guess the sky is still big—but it’s not that same Montana Big Sky. It’s hazy and dry and basically resembles a green plain meeting a blue one. Sophia’s driving and she’s about to lose her mind—even 85 mph feels like a snail’s pace.

At least when we cross the border the accents change. But who lives here? Voluntarily? I’m anxious to find out.