Montana, More than just a Destination

Storm Lake is between Anaconda and Philipsburg, Montana.  A dirt road can take you most of the way up the mountain lake, and all the way up if you have a vehicle with high clearance.

Montana tends to be that far away land that people dream of going to.  After all, it is the “last best place”.  When you arrive, you become captivated by its vastness. 

The first time I drove into Montana I immediately noted, “this is a BIG SKY”.  So open.  Like a cat confined to the indoors all of its life, my instinct was to cower under the weight of all this wildness and freedom.  That huge, open sky with nothing, but more plains or mountains, going and going and going…

Vipond Park has one of the most spectacular displays of wildflowers that I have ever seen.  You can drive to Vipond Park by taking the Wise River exit off of Interstate 15 in Montana.  

The lack of people just adds to the awe.  You can travel on some roads for hours and maybe see one other vehicle.  You quickly comprehend the wisdom in preparedness and keeping your gas tank as near to full as possible, especially in the winter.  Montana makes you feel alone, but in a thrilling sort of way.  It makes you feel alive and capable with every step you take.

We hiked up a mountain two days prior to this video wearing short sleeved shirts. The snow came suddenly and fell beautifully. The hike down was fairly simple. It was good that we were prepared. This is in Wolf Creek, Montana.

People who know this place, intimately, get swallowed up by it.  The beauty of Montana makes your heart burst with song.  But it is dangerous.  The weather can change on a dime.  There are large creatures that will eat you and/or stomp you to death.  The terrain itself is something to be cautious of.  It is easy to become disoriented, for one.  Not only that, depending on where you might be hiking, it is easy to twist an ankle or slide down a mountain side on loose rocks. 

The reality of danger crawls up the back of your neck and rests there lightly.  You don’t ever want to shake that.  It keeps you alert.  It is telling you the truth.  Be aware.  

The dangers only slow you down for a little while.  You venture here and there, with caution.  All is well and your senses feast on Montana.  You grow bolder and hike a little less prepared for rain than you will the next time.  Or you start your outing a little later in the day than you should have and spend the night in the woods without proper shelter, for the last time. 

We were driving through some mountains in Southwest Montana. As we came around a bend we startled a mama bear with her cubs. She scampered up a rise and out of sight while her cubs climbed a tree. We decided to leave before the mother bear returned.

My boyfriend and I went for a short walk a couple of weeks ago.  I heard him call, “did you not see that?”  “See what? I was watching my footing.”  I had walked right past a gaping entrance to a bear’s den.  Right past it.  In fact, I casually looked down in it and it did not dawn on me what I was looking at.  That put me into alert mode.  We had started off for a short jaunt and were completely unprepared for anything.  No bear spray or pistol, no water or compass.  Over confidence can be your enemy.  I have learned a lot in the three years since I moved to Montana.  

We assume this is the entrance to a black bear's den.  We stumbled across it while hiking the Black Butte in Southwest Montana.  

Tread lightly in these mountains.  Even survival experts know to be careful.

Montana beckons you in deeper and you gingerly place your toes past the last boundary you set.  Each time you learn a little more about what you didn’t know, thought you knew, who you really are, what you’re meant to be.  Montana is uncomfortable.  It seems endless and is full of adventures.  It is what life was before modern times.  It is a lost art of existence and what I believe we were meant for as humanity. 

I have never been to a place like Montana.  It is without a doubt one of the most beautiful places I have been too. I have been spoiled living here for nearly three years.  I have forgotten to be engaged, attentive, to take pleasure in it. 

I love this place. 

Montana has changed me. Maybe it just awakened me (both the ugly aspects and the courageous).  I have been moved to tears by Montana’s splendor.  My joy for God’s handiwork is drawn from way down deep as I gaze upon this spectacle.  I am exposed in these elements.  God has been working on me in this place; set apart from what I have known.  He allows me to stumble on this rocky path, but He has my hand as we walk in this beautiful place.

Montana is like a true love.  One that is exciting and pleasurable.  Simultaneously, it is raw and unapologetic.  You have no choice, but to be who you are in its presence, naked under the stars and sun.  Like a lover, it is often the only one who sees your vulnerabilities.  It is a place to be honest, because there isn’t anyone to be dishonest with.  In that, you acknowledge the lies of your ancestors and the fears of freedom melt away.  The uncertain, untested you of yesterday learns to stand more boldly beneath the Big Sky. 

Even though you get tired of the eternal, frigid winters and summers of wildfire smoke that burn your eyes and steal away the view, you love Montana, because its real.  It isn’t for the faint of heart.  It isn’t for people who prefer being busy with culture or shopping.  It hasn’t been domesticated.  It’s where we came from. It’s where we are meant to be.  In it, we become who we are meant to be.  Exposed, vulnerable, challenged, humbled.