Christmas Break

I love being once again at home with my parents and spending time with pre-school and grade school friends, but I’ve experienced feelings that can’t be experienced while traveling and are indeed one of the reasons to travel. They are just the basic life feelings that surface after living in the same circumstances for a long time that would rather be avoided. It’s not all that bad though, and I’m enjoying myself.

My hoped for job is unavailable and so I’ve been spending days relaxing in my comfortable abode. Talking to my parents over a cup of coffee and the paper or Undaunted Courage before they head off to work is a joy. Having the house to myself the majority of the day to do as I please is everything I imagined it would be. My friends are bringing untold amounts of joy into my life. All is good and well deep in the Rocky Mountains, close to the headwaters of the mighty Missouri River.

One thing that has been on my mind a lot lately is the police force and the work they do. They are the great protectors of ordinary Americans, brave keepers of the peace that should be and are highly regarded by society.

But I think they have strayed from their original goal. Most people tense up and generally become uncomfortable when driving and spotting a police man. The police shouldn’t inspire fear in a person.

The police in America have no bigger problem than speeding and other minor traffic violations. This speaks volumes for the quality and security of the life Americans live. We have nothing more to fear than a policeman pulling us over, and a policeman pulling us over has nothing more to worry about than somebody going slightly too fast or with a dead left taillight. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen policemen simply hiding behind something and watching traffic.

I’m convinced Americans have some of the strictest traffic laws in the world, and these laws are enforced with the highest degree of aggression and efficiency. I’m more worried about the local policeman pulling me over than I am of a terrorist attack. I’m more worried about being pulled over than I am about having my rights infringed upon by the Patriot Act or the Military Commissions Act.

I think traffic laws should be relaxed, and policemen should spend more time on violent and white-collar crime than they do on enforcing the speed limit on Fabrick Street.

Montana used to have a “safe and prudent” speed limit on the interstate highways, but now it is 75 MPH. I honestly believe there are stretches of the interstate in Montana where it is clear, straight, free of traffic, and perfectly safe to drive at a speed greater than 75 MPH. This, combined with my previous statements, is the reason why I believe Montana should have a “safe and prudent” speed limit enforced liberally by busy police officers.

One local issue that is important to me is peoples’ firework rights. I believe people are safe and smart enough to light any form of fireworks inside the town of Manhattan, Montana. I think they should be allowed to do it for the maximum number of days surrounding July 4^th, our nation’s birthday. I think any infringement on this is simply government overstepping its rights.

Nationally, the war in Iraq continues to dominate all thought. Bush is leaning towards increasing troop levels temporarily to help secure the country while the Iraq Study Group is advising Bush with a comprehensive plan involving asking Iran and Syria for help and setting deadlines for American withdrawal. We all know what Iran and Syria are all about. It also requires the Iraq government to stop sectarian violence or face a withdrawal of American forces. The issue is so incredibly complex.

Since I have a passion for travel writing and I realize what Montana fun is like comparatively, allow me to relate my exotic experience this past Friday night with you.

I hopped into my ’98 Buick LeSabre Friday morning and headed into Bozeman for a job interview at Lowe’s. That is really beside the point, other than I was in a hurry so I forgot a bunch of things. After my interview that went semi-well, I headed over to Daniel’s apartment. Bryant took off for his job at Kenyon Noble, and Kyle showed up with his SUV and bald tires.

We headed back to Manhattan to pick up Bryce, who bought us provisions from the L&F, before getting some more goods from my residence. All four of us headed up Bridger Canyon to pick up two snowmobiles, henceforth called sleds or machines. Kyle was borrowing these two machines from a nice couple. After that we headed back out of Bridger Canyon to meet up with Mike and his truck and two sleds.

By this time it was the afternoon and we were packed and anxious to get high, as in altitude. Five college guys, four sleds, three bottles, two trucks, and one cabin made up the expedition.

Daniel’s cabin is halfway up Bridger Canyon on the East side of Bridger Canyon Drive. A guy can only drive so far before the snowmobiles have to be used. Once we were loaded on the machines it took us about twenty minutes to arrive. It is just beautiful. Going up the snow powder trails, watching the valley change, climbing hills in the crisp mountain air is just what a guy needs to be in a peaceful state of mind and totally consent. Being literally miles away from a road, electricity, or indoor plumbing in the middle of a Montana winter on the top of a mountain with a group of friends is what we do for fun here.

The cabin sits three quarters of the way up a mountain and has a great view off the porch. The mountain falls away from the porch and an untouched pine forest on the opposite mountain side greets the eye. Farther away a slice of the Gallatin Valley can be seen just in view.

We got there and Dan and I hiked to the top of this mound and watched an amazing sunset. Then we half circled the mountain the cabin is on and then walked down a ravine that carries a stream in the spring. We were just stomping through a foot or two of untouched snow with pines and bushes covered in snow all around is. We stopped a few times to enjoy the silence. There is nothing as quite as being up there. It is just such pure silence you can hear it.

After that it was dark and so we started to get down to business. We drank, ate, drank, and were merry. It was freezing outside but the fire inside was roaring. We cooked on top of the stove.

None of us knew what time it was the whole time, but at some point during the middle of the night Bryce and I decided it was a good time to take machines out. Try to read between the lines here.

It was cold outside but we weren’t bothered by it. Night riding is fun beyond reason. We drove around the mountain and eventually found untouched trails! The snow was deep and the machines were performing admirably. We eventually found a few dead ends but just turned around. We were on some ridge. I think snowmobiling and jet skiing are two of the best ways to spend time in Montana.

Anyway, one of the sleds had been acting funny, according to the guy Kyle borrowed it from. I didn’t know it at the time and I don’t think Bryce did either. Either way, the track suddenly stopped moving. It was like when I hit the gas the track didn’t catch. It happened at the worst time too. I was getting pretty wild with the machine because I was getting really comfortable. I was hitting banks of snow, sides of hills, and other fun places. I was two or three foot downhill from the trail, and was fully expecting to tail whip and spin my way out when it stopped working. Bryce and I tried desperately to get her out before deciding to drive all the way back down to the trucks to get a chain. We spent hours trying to pull her out before we decided to try it the next morning.

Went back and went to bed, only to hear Kyle tell everyone there is a bear outside after he saw a shadow pass. I think he just had a bad dream.

I thoroughly enjoyed the early morning sun outside on the porch. We cooked steaks and corn beef hash for breakfast and then started the long process of packing, cleaning, and getting the sled.

It was pretty intense pulling the sled out with two other sleds. After we pulled it out and pulled it for a little ways, it suddenly started working again. I was happy.

Bryce and I went to his place and sat in the hot tub because we were both sore and it was cold outside and the combination is just perfect. After that I had Bryce’s dad’s famous clam chowder with his family. It hit the spot perfectly.

Later that night Taylor, Bryce, and I decided to take one of the coolest drives around Manhattan. We took Skinner Road all the way from just west of Logan near the rifle range all the way to just north of the Dry Creek Church. It took a long time because it encircles a ton of land, including Gallatin River Ranch.

My fun had, now it’s Christmas Eve and I going to spend time with the family.

I still don’t have a job for this break, and I still don’t have a place to live next semester.

The cabin with Dan trying to get the propane working, which we didn't need or use. 

Some of the views from the cabin. 

My First Day in America

Today is my first day back in America and I’ve noticed things and thought things I’ve never noticed or thought before and I’m seeing nothing but the same old stuff. For example it really struck me when I was able to understand a group of people’s conversation and I realized everyone around me is an American.

Today when I got off the ship I didn’t yell “I love you America” like I thought I was going to. I was just focusing on dragging my bag full of imported goods and carrying my $20 full size North face backpack. One thing hit me though. This big black lady in a security uniform said, “Have all your documents out and ready, go all the way down and take a left, welcome home.” When she said welcome home I was just like “Wow I can’t believe a stranger who says the same thing over and over again just made me feel that way.” I really felt like I was home.

Then I was driving down the road and I saw all the cars driving in straight lines and inside their lanes. That is just not something you see everywhere. My dad and I pulled into this gas station to call my Aunt Kathleen. We were just about to get in when CRASH I look up and a truck had just rear ended another truck and airbags had deployed. “FUCK! FUCK!” came a yell from the truck in the rear. The guy who had just had his truck smashed in got out and said “Are you ok?” and then they shook hands. Them shaking hands after that incident really made me proud to call this place home. That’s all there was to it. We drove off knowing full well the situation would be just fine. That doesn’t happen everywhere either.

In another gas station farther down the road, I walked in and found some haggard looking people working there and a truck driver looking at a rack full of peanuts. I looked at them and realized what I would have thought three months ago. I would have thought, “Look at these poor saps, living a terrible life and not going anywhere.” Today I thought, “Wow these people are some lucky folks; they are living a life of luxury, I hope they realize how well off they are."