montana

Oh Montana. The site of some wonderful, good days. Its also the setting for one of the most somber days I’ve had thus far.

Sitting in Seattle, we decided to skip staying the extra day, skip Vancouver, and drive through the entire state of Washington. We ended up driving through Idaho, and ended the day (a very long one at that) just at the Montana western border. The next day was day #2 of making and changing plans. We were going to spend a few days going up to Glacier National Park and back, but luckily received a phone call from my uncle Jim letting us know that the weather was treacherous and dipping down to 14 degrees at night. Definitely NOT suitable for camping! So we decided to switch our route to head straight to Darby, Montana, to visit my uncle Jim and aunt Mary (the ones we stayed with back in Tuscon, Arizona).

Jim and Mary have a lovely resort called Traveller’s Rest where we were treated to one of their cute cabins. Of course we loved the chance to see them again and spend more time together. It was also a wonderful time to slow down a bit from our somewhat frantic pace. One of the days we went for a bit of a bike excursion. Mary showed us around their charming town before we headed out for the bigger portion of the ride. Now, when I was much younger, I LIVED on my bike. But since then, many years have passed. My aunt and uncle are pretty much Lance Armstrong level, and Guy of course is obsessed with biking and commutes regularly to work, so I was a bit tentative in joining the athletic trio. I obviously survived the journey, and think I did ok, (although I definitely “discovered” some muscles I had forgotten about a long time ago), and it really was a beautiful place for a ride, complete with a rushing stream, forests and mountains. Besides the ride, we enjoyed some delicious meals with Jim and Mary, got trained in on the game Skip Bo (which I will be purchasing when we complete this trip), petted their cat Misty, and had some good laughs.

During our time in Darby, we took a daytrip to Missoula, home of the University of Montana. Why go there? Guy’s great-grandfather, Rollin H. McKay, has several thousand photos housed at their library. It was a very neat experience to look through books full of photos that he took of Native Americans, cowboys, some family members, and local landmarks and landscapes, such as the Bitterroot Valley.

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Saturday was a sad day. Even the weather knew it.

On our way driving to Bozeman, we decided to stop at Big Hole National Battlefield. Over a century ago the Nez Perce were camping on this field when they got attacked and 90 of their members were killed. It was yet another sad example of Native Americans being pushed out of their land and forced either into reservations or death. Big Hole National Battlefield was created to honor all who were there. As we went to take a walk on the path leading out to the sacred land, it started snowing. We could hear a few Native American men down on the field singing, which was very neat. When we actually arrived at the field with several framed tee pees, the wind picked up and snow fell heavily on us. Although it was a somber experience, I’m so glad we went.

We continued on towards Bozeman; where Guy’s parent’s previously lived, where he had lived with his niece for a few months, and where his sister and her husband currently live. Just over two years ago, Guy’s parent’s tragically died here in a car accident, along with his nephew. He had not been back to the city since that time. I had never been to Bozeman, and more importantly, never met his parents. I think we both felt a bit nervous and full of emotion as we drove into town that evening. Guy drove me by his parent’s old house, and then to the site of the accident. I can’t really put into words what I was feeling as we came upon that site, but it was powerful. The next morning we went to the church where Mr. & Mrs. Still attended. I had no idea what to expect. The pastor and his wife played a big part in the lives of Guy’s parents, and then later with the family in dealing with their loss. They both recognized Guy immediately and were excited and surprised to see him. They were warm, wonderful people with a great spirit about them. The service itself was really beautiful, inviting and incredibly touching. There were a lot of tears throughout the small congregation during the service, Guy and myself included. Without trying to sound cliché or contrived, it felt like we were supposed to be there at that very time. I feel like this was the closest I would get to meeting Guy‘s parents, and it really felt like their spirits were present that day. It was an emotional but very special experience for me.

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So...there is no easy transition from such a heavy topic...I won't even try. 

After church we met Guy’s sister Mary and her husband Shatan for lunch at The Soup Garage, a place that Guy enjoyed when he lived in Bozeman. They had excellent soup or which you ordered from their very own “soup nazi” (he really was pretty stern, too). It was fun to have four Minneapolis “Northsiders” all together in the middle of Montana. Later Mary joined us for a swim at the Bozeman Hot Springs. None of us had ever been to a hot springs before, so it was a new experience for all of us. They had nine pools, plus a sauna and a “rainforest room” that was basically an incredibly hot steam room (and what I imagine hell to feel like). We went around testing everything, seeing what temperatures we could bear. Guy was happy as a clam going into the tortuously hot sauna, while Mary and I were much more content in the “medium” temps. I got the gumption to dive into the hottest pool (if Guy could do it, why couldn’t I?), till I could no longer stand it, promptly dunking into the ice cold waters of the neighboring pool. As I stood there looking at Guy, I noticed that the room started shifting back and forth, and realized I needed to get out of the water NOW. As I sat on the side of the pool, everything started going black, and told Guy, “I think I’m going to faint.” Well luckily I didn’t end up unconscious, but realized at that point what I did was incredibly stupid, due to some past experiences I’ve had with heat and fainting that I had apparently blocked out of my memory. Despite that experience, the hot springs were a lot of fun, and glad we got to share it with Mary.

Montana was a beautiful state, full of meaningful experiences.