I‘m not going to lie.  I came to Montana with visions of cowboy grandeur. I imagined being the star of my own country song. I’m talking about a good 1990s-style country song, not these of today where, for some reason, women always tend to be barefoot. When did this become a thing guys are in to? Back in my day it was snake skin boots made by Calvin Klain, now it’s naked feet.  Anyway, I envisioned all the dreamy imagery evoked from  songs like the Dixie Chicks’ “Wide Open Spaces” and “Cowboy Take Me Away.” I’d be standing in a blue sundress and boots spinning around in a field of golden grain as a camera pans around from above in slow motion. I’d frolic around a mountain covered in flowers a la the opening scenes of Little House on the Prairie. I imagined splashing in a creek with friends. “Fishing in the Dark” by the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band, Should’ve Been a Cowboy, Garth Brook’s Rodeo, Sarah Evans’ Born to Fly and really, who wouldn’t want to be the girl in a chevy truck when it happens to get tuck on a back road with her sweetie after hearing Taylor Swift reminisce about it?  All of these songs absolutely romanticized my vision of The West and I wanted to capture it all in picture.  I mean, how could I even think  Montana could even live up to my high expectations?

I asked a French Engineering student spending a summer abroad on the ranch why she chose Montana of all places in America to choose. She responded that Montana is the horse capitol.  Being a Kentucky girl, I almost lost my wit hearing this. And so  I responded like any Kentuckian would respond. Which she accurately replied, “If I wanted to ride English, I could have  stayed in France.” And that’s true. While I know there’s plenty of western horseback riding going on in Kentucky, I’ve only been around English so, from my perspective, Kentucky is more English-riding centered.  The raising of horses is different, mostly because of the terrain and weather. There’s a relationship between Montana and Kentucky in the horse industry. I learned that the majority of Kentucky derby winners are bred out of Montana.  Anyway, for this Kentucky girl, it was just a dream to spend a week riding.  You gotta recognize the privilege when work is disguised as fun.

The People and Animals

Videos of puppies and little kids can easily waste a way a day. Same thing happens in real life when you’ve got an energetic, pre-schooler and a litter of puppies on the ranch. This little cutie, never the shy one, came right up to me and introduced himself and the adults around him (that I’d already met) and led me by the hand to his pack of puppies. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend a few hours of an afternoon than with little fella and his buddies.  Spending time talking with the many, interesting people the ranch attracts is plenty fun enough.

He asked me to take a photo and replied, “That turned out nice didn’t it?”  Such a doll.

Rodeos

Before going to Montana I had a girl talk over calzones with one of my favorite Texans, about my excitement about the western lifestyle and living on an Ranch. She was already an expert and broke down cowboy culture. Now, when I think of equestrian events, my first frame of reference is the Kentucky derby,  which is the social highlight of spring.  It is the culmination of weeks of shopping for the perfect sundress and finding accenting but comfortable heels, and hours of searching for the perfect head topper. Fashion isn’t the focus for most at Rodeos.  In fact, there’s a special name for girls who are focused on the fashion.  Buckle Bunny. These are the girls that are a little bit too gussied up to be going just to watch a guy get knocked around on a bull or bronco. So those fully ingrained in this culture travel to the big shows and they follow the rodeo, town to town and get to know the riders at after parties.  I never considered there were rodeo groupies. I guess if there are cyber groupies, then there can certainly be groupies for the cowboys too. Rodeos make for great people watching once you know the characters.  And here’s where Garth’s Rodeo and Toby’s Should’ve Been a Cowboy came to life.

As luck would have it, Arabella and I made friends with two local charmers who volunteered (or got volun-told…I’m not sure which is more accurate) to take us to the rodeo in Cody, Wyoming.  No one who really knows Rodeos gets over-excited about the Cody, Wyoming Rodeo. As one of my local hosts explained, “Nothing that happens every night is special.”  Cody is for the tourist. Not the cowboys.  Rodeos tend to only be worth a pro’s time if they payout handsomely for a win.  However, Cody is a great starter rodeo for first time riders and first time viewers.

In rodeo, you’ve got several events.  There’s tie-down roping, team roping, steer wrestling, saddle bronc riding, bareback bronc riding, bull riding and barrel racing.  Barrel Racing and maybe team roping are the only events I could envision me actually doing. In addition to the timed events, there’s plenty of other forms of entertainment. The MCs at Cody were comedians. Made me shake my head with how pitiful their jokes were…they sounded like two dad’s who think they are so funny but the boys were were with were cracking up.  I just rolled my eyes and shook my head. There was a guy dressed like a cow dancing that got me to break my baring and the way the rodeo got the crowd involved was pretty entertaining.

After the rodeo we hit the town. Sheridan Ave in Cody reminds me of Broadway in Nashville, without the population. We started at the Silver Dollar Saloon in the Irma Hotel. The Irma is a historical hotel named after Buffalo Bill’s daughter.  Just being in it you can imagine the cowboys and ladies in red velvet of the Old West.  We moved on after a a drink (and after we witnessed a middle aged couple forget they were in public) to the Silver Dollar down the road and across the street. This place had a younger atmosphere and pool tables. We played (and trash talked) until the bar closed.  It was a fun, comfortable, crowd-free time out on the town.

The next morning after loading up on giant pancakes at a cafe on Sheridan Ave we hit up the Cody Museum and got a history lesson on the Old West, Buffalo Bill, a seriously expansive arsenal of historic riffles, and regional Native American history.  Then we went window shopping. All the cowboy gear has something like a 100 percent tourist mark up.

I loved these boots! On the left we have $15K boots (with a sign that says do not touch. Yea right, I’m touching) and on the right $2K. They belong to the wife of the boot maker. Collection plate/ Go-Fund Me link coming soon.

We returned to our Montana ranch taking the Chief Joseph Scenic Highway (Wyoming Highway 296).  This winding highwayfollows the route taken by Chief Joseph as he led the Nez Perce Indian out of Yellowstone toward Canada during the 1877 U.S. Cavalry attack. He and his surviving warriors ended up being “deported” by William T. Sherman from his nation to Kansas where he died.  This is stuff I never learned in school. The views on the route are breathtaking but the winding roads do have the tendency to create motion sickness in small cars. Careful!  The route added about 45 minutes to our time and passed through a few ski resort towns (like Red Lodge) that would be idea for stopping for the night if needed.

Just charming views. We had to keep stopping so I could take pictures.

Fun on the Ranch

Sure,  I didn’t have to travel all the way to Montana to play and climb on hay bales but, hey, it’s been a while. Whether it’s climbing on hay, sitting on straw in the barn having conversations about dreams, adventures, and life, or spotting the wild life while outdoors, playing in the country is fun. I think I had so much fun doing regular mundane, country things because it reminded me of home so much.

Hunting
Montana is a hunter’s paradise. White tail deer just frolicked on front lawns like no big deal. I don’t think there was a single day of the week that I didn’t see an elk. I just kept thinking, my dad would love this place. I love the wild life here. You saw just about every American animal (except alligators) just wild and free. Now, it was not hunting season in August but it seems like the Game Warden takes their job pretty seriously up here. The game warden sets up decoy deer trying to catch poachers in a sting. I’ve been around hunters all my life in Kentucky and just have never heard of anyone ever encountering something like that.

Elk on the side of the Road. They make high pitched trumpet sounds not expected for a beast of this size.

Night Life

As one native said while she was trying to give me directions, the bars are the landmarks. Absarokee has a population of 1,200.  That is not to say the night life is a bust.  5 Spot Bar was my first introduction to Absarokee nightlife and thus became my instant fave. When you are the new girl in a one stoplight town, everyone in the bar comes to introduce themselves to you and try to figure out why on Earth you chose to stop in their town. Kinda made me wonder what it would be like to go to a bar in my own hometown considering I’d never lived that since I’ve been 21.

Just across the street is a bar geared toward an older crowd called Chrome. Then at the edge of town is Legends with a dance floor and Karaoke and swings on the covered porch.  It’s the place to go with a sweetheart and to hear stories about Jesus and Alcohol. Only deal is this bar is on the edge of town and there are no Taxis so a quality designated driver is a must.

Fun on the River

If a town is lucky enough to have  river flowing through it, it’s residents are lucky to have built-in entertainment. We toyed with the idea of spending the weekend whitewater rafting or just casually rafting down the Stillwater River but considering my aversion to cold, we decided against. Instead, we went fly fishing.  For something like $30 purchased at a gas station at the edge of town, I got my two-day fishing license.

Now, I’d done my share of fishing before.  Just cast the line and wait. Heck, you can put a bell on the line, walk away and do something else and still catch a channel cat.  There’s not much to it.  In fly fishing, that i not the case. You have so many variables to negotiate. Now, for the first time, I could see how fishing is a sport.   My line kept getting caught up.  I got frustrated.  After the sun and the temperature dropped I caught my one little mini fish, I quit.

That’s not to say I didn’t have a blast.  I was laughing at Ty for falling in the water and loving the chivalry of being piggy backed across the river. Oh, and the other pair catching seven fish before I even got my gosh dang line in the water which at the time was not fun but looking back, was quite comical. Every other minute we’d hear, “Caught one” across the way.

I couldn’t capture all the fun I had with the local gentleman and my new international friend on camera to document for the blog. One, for fear I’d drop my camera in the river. And reason number two, and most important, the best times can’t be documented. I couldn’t stop the laughs and jokes and focus on fishing to go run, get a camera and focus on the posing for what I’d pretend were candid shots.   I couldn’t focus on documenting the moment, I had to be present and just enjoy the moment that I’ll make into a memory.