Shattering the myth

October 15, 2016

I have a lot of out-of-state friends whom I encourage to visit me in Montana.

I find people are in two camps when faced with the prospect of a Big Sky vacation– those who have always dreamed of it, and those who wouldn’t come here if their lives depended on it.

Generally, those who don’t want to come here are convinced there is a grizzly bear in every backyard and starving baby bison are around every corner awaiting rescue via the back of their rented SUV.

Several years ago a very good friend of mine flat out refused my invitation.

“No offense,” she said. “But I have no desire to go to a place where I could be eaten by a wild animal.”

I assured her that I’ve only seen a bear in town once, in the Walmart parking lot in Missoula years ago, and it was a baby.

And there was that time the mountain lion was living under someone’s boat cover in their back yard.

But really, those instances are rare, and nobody ever got eaten.

She looked at me levelly and said, “Yet.”

Those who have always dreamed of coming here are generally motivated by Brad Pitt movies, namely A River Runs Through It and Legends of the Fall.

They are stunned and more than a little disappointed to learn that I neither fly fish nor ride horses, and are only mildly appeased when I assure them that if they’d like to have these experiences I could probably figure out a way to make it happen.

A friend once asked me if all the men in Montana look like Brad Pitt. I told her Brad Pitt is from Missouri. 

Most people want to see a Rocky Mountain glacier and Old Faithful, and are disappointed to learn they are at opposite ends of the state.

The fact that Old Faithful is actually in Wyoming is a minor detail. In my experience, Wyoming and Montana are interchangeable in the minds of anyone living east of the Mississippi River.

When I explain that there is a six-and-a-half hour drive through endless grass pastures between Glacier and Yellowstone Parks, they are stunned.

“What is there to do in between?” they ask.

“Drive,” I answer.

There are a lot of myths about life in Montana.

I once had a classmate in graduate school ask me if I rode a horse to school.

I told her yes. I didn’t think she’d actually believe me.

She asked what I did with my horse all day while I was in class. I told her there was a hitching post out front where everyone parked their horses. She was appalled that the horses were made to stand there and wait all day.

I’m not sure which is more cruel – parking an imaginary horse in front of a high school all day, or allowing an innocent East Coast kid to believe I actually rode a horse to school.

If you want to come to Montana and live like a cowboy or fish like a sportsman for a few days, you can certainly have those experiences for a nominal fee.

But if my friends want to come visit me, they can expect to be picked up at the airport in my crossover and talk over my kids’ movie playing in the backseat while we head through a drive-thru and gripe about traffic. Life in Montana is great. But for most of us, it’s just life.

This article first appeared in the Lewistown News-Argus and the Sidney (Mont.) Herald on October 15, 2016.