6APRIL2012 @ Laurel, MT - A massive spring snowstorm caught me while I slept and I awoke to a skiff of snow on the windshield and a steady drizzle of 32 degree rain/slush. The ground is warmer than freezing and the air temperature is not low enough to make bridges dangerous, so driving into Billings was no problem. On the way I crossed the spot where the Nez Perce went north toward Canada in 1877. We white history writers call it "flight" or "another part of the Indian Wars", but the Nez Perce consider it their effort to live as they wished ... and that was then. Were they making the trip today they would need to cross under an interstate highway and several railroad tracks as well as numerous barbed wire fences. The weather being what it is, they would hardly be noticed until the weather cleared and the cut fences would be seen.
The railroad carries coal from the Powder River Basin of Montana and Wyoming to west coast ports. From there barges ship it to Korea and other Asian countries - Americas own energy pipeline. It is expected that in the next year the trains traveling through Helena will increase from about 8 per day to maybe 30. Suddenly the folks who pressed for a Train-Horn-Quiet-Zone at Helena train/street crossings make more sense.
Near Crow Agency I caught US212. A friend from Hardin once called it the Ho Chi Minh trail and - in my household anyway - the name stuck. Past the Custer Battlefield and through the hills to Busby I reflected on the efficacy of calling the Custer Battlefield the Custer Battlefield. Custer, of course, battled there but more significantly his battles ended there. The man proved to be an audacious battler during the Civil War and he battled on for another decade whenever and whereever he could find a battle to get into. At what we call the Custer Battlefield, though, he mostly died. "Custer Massacre Site" would be a more appropriate name, or the "Sitting Bull, Gall, Red Cloud, Crazy Horse, ... add about ten more chief names here ... Battlefield" would also be appropriate but clearly too much of a mouthfull. So "Custer Battlefield" it will remain.
At Busby I went off the "trail" to walk about the White River Cheyenne Mennonite Church. Established in 1904 it has been the home of pastor Willis Busenitz since 1971. Simple arithmetic (catch that Fred?) tells us that Willis is not young, but such is not the first thought one gets when meeting him. Vibrant, rugged, meaningful are three words that come to mind way before old ... or not young. I met him through a cloud of dust as he was replacing the shower in the dome house, an igloo/hogan looking residence. He took a break, opened a window and we had a pleasant conversation. It is good to know this man who has compiled more years at Busby than any of his Mennonite predessors.
Continuing on I stopped at Broadus to stretch and exchange greetings with Darlene W. at the high school. Darlene was the school district superintendent's assistant in the 1980s when I worked there. Neither of us recognized the other, but that situation was quickly eliminated. Darlene is a spot of Syracuse Orange on the SE Montana prairie ... something every town should have. Speaking of color, I noticed two targets of pink as I drove away from the town center. A business named "Hoofers" has borrowed from the fame of the "Hooters" sports bar theme and has a sign featuring two large pink "O"s ... aren't Americans wonderful? And aren't real hoofers sometimes a curious crew? A short distance from Broadus is a herd of about 50 cows with fifty calves. Every cow is black yet every calf is either white or tan. What's up with that?
A short ways out of Alazada I caught black clouds. A clean windshield was nice but continuing on east with NE moving clouds bearing that color seemed undesireable. I stopped at the Bunkhouse Motel, telephoned Bob B. in Pierre and opted to stay in Belle Fourche. Pierre can see me tomorrow ... tornado warnings in western South Dakota reaffirm my sensible decision. I'm asleep well before Jay Leno opens his show.