One End to the Other

Over the course of the last two weeks, I have traveled from one end of Montana to the other teaching continuing education classes.  During a normal winter, such travels will take you in and out of areas of snow.  Generally, some of the wide lower valleys or the open plains will be clear of snow.

Not so this year. 

This year, the entire state is buried under deep layers of snow.

Yesterday, that girl and I drove from Helena to Kalispell by way of Lincoln and the Swan Valley.  The walls of snow alongside the highway over Flesher Pass were anywhere from five to eight feet high.  Down through the Swan, most fence posts were buried to within a foot or so of their tops.  Homes alongside the road were hidden under white mounds.  I snapped a couple of “drive-by” photographs as we whisked along the narrow path cut through the Swan.  The photographs are not particularly handsome, but you can see by referencing the hood of the car and the signs alongside the road the depth of snow accumulations.

I found the entire drive beautiful.

-- Mitchell Hegman 

The Road to Hell

A song from a few decades ago…

-- Mitchell Hegman 

Embracing the Absurd

Simon knew shoplifting was no way to make a real living, but he could not do the nine to five.  Lifting Snickers bars and Reece’s peanut butter cups was easy.  In December he sleeved a new calendar for the coming year.  Cans fit easily in his coat pockets.   

Stealing a pot roast?  That required embracing the absurd.  Once, he fashioned a sling for his arm.  And then Simon struck on the idea of appearing pregnant.

He created a costume.

People were afraid to approach him.  Afraid to ask.  The costume provided Simon a strange new freedom.

-- Mitchell Hegman 

Hair Styles

I find it fairly amusing to flip through old magazines when I find them.  I enjoy checking out the hair styles in the photographs.  For a stretch of time in the 1960s, girls with super-straight hair were all the rage.  The hair on men grew longer and longer as the decade went on.  In the 1970s, afros came and went.  In the 1980s girls teased their hair into something big.  Today, for men, bald is a sure winner.

Conversations about hair have also changed.

At one time, an exchange between two young men at a bar might sound like this: “Which girl do you like at the corner table?  The blonde?  Or the brunette?”

These days such a conversation may sound like this: “Which girl do you like at that table? The one with purple and yellow hair or the girl with green hair?”

-- Mitchell Hegman 

Another Goal

In the end, I hope to be more clever than destructive.  This is a much more difficult goal than I expected.

-- Mitchell Hegman 

Weather is a Real Thing

The town of Fort Belknap, Montana, sits atop the Fort Belknap Indian Reservation on U. S. Highway 2 in northcentral Montana.  Locally, we call the portion of Montana though which Highway 2 runs the Hi-Line.  The area—extending east and west just below the Canadian border—represents the westernmost fringes of The Great Plains.  Soon the plains will falter at the feet of the Rocky Mountains. 

Weather is a real thing there.  

Last Tuesday, Fort Belknap had what you might call a “weather event.”  Early that morning, a low temperature of 37 below was recorded.  A bit later in the day, a warming Chinook wind swept across the plains and along the Rocky Mountain Front to the west.  The temperature at Fort Belknap rose to a high of 45 degrees above Tuesday afternoon.  A temperature swing of over 80 degrees in one day.

-- Mitchell Hegman 

Keyword for Today

Last evening, I spent the waning minutes of daylight soaking in my hot tub.  The light of day failed quickly as a snowstorm lowered shawls of snow all around me.  Soon, the green pine trees turned a deep blue.   Giant, gently sinking snowflakes dropped straight down from the clouds immediately above.  The snow closed in, obscuring all sense of distance.

I thought: Wow, this is so cool!

I outstretched my arms and turned my face up so the snowflakes could melt directly against me.  Each one delivered a kind of exhilarating sting of chill upon touching my skin.  Not a single sound penetrated the storm.

The snow accumulated quickly.  By the time I scampered back inside, a new layer of pure white covered everything.

The snow continued into full darkness.

Late last night, I came awake to strong winds shouldering against my house.

This morning, after feeding my 20 pounds of housecat and brewing my coffee, I stepped outside as I always do to get a feel for the day.

Keyword for today: “snowdrift.” 

-- Mitchell Hegman