Montana State University

4 Aug 2009. Wheat Montana was a great recommendation by the ladies at the MSU bookstore. Like Panera but with corrugated metal instead of pastel overstuffed easy chairs.


"Those falls weren't that great."
"The real Great Falls is a few miles downstream. But there have been so many dams built on the Missouri that the falls today are only a fraction of the spectacle that Lewis & Clark encountered in 1805."
"Could we take a break from the interpretation, please?"
The horse-mounted ranger looked hurt. "Sure."
The young driver exhaled. "I'm sorry. After being abandoned by Alicia, I'm just ready to zone out for a while." He shifted on his seat. "And my butt's numb again. How do you handle it, uberglutes?"
"Yoga. Though I tell people cross country skiing."
"Yoga? You??"
The driver laughed. The ranger frowned.
"All right, all right. My lips are sealed. Cat claw?"
He foisted up an almond-studded pastry through the opening in his cage.
"No, thanks."
The ranger's horse flipped his neck right and grabbed the pastry with its frightening lips.
"Whoa! Look at those lips!"
"Oh! Bad Pompey! No sweets! Please do not feed my horse junk food."
"I have some 9-grain bagels."
"Maybe later. We still have 200 miles to go."
So continued the molasses slow journey of Otter, driving a miniature Bobcat tractor, and Ranger Redfeather, astride a pony.

******

Otter, senior biology major at Montana State in Bozeman, was not content to have his final report be based on mere library research. He did not want his findings on bobcat habitat conservation to exist in a vacuum; he wanted to have impact. A caffeine fueled brainstorm with his academic advisor yielded an original proposal: a fundraising journey from the continental divide in Glacier National Park to Bozeman.
The poetic synergy made Otter's loins tingle with glee: To save the bobcats, a student, whose school mascot is a bobcat, would drive a Bobcat skid steer.
Glacier National Park donated the dark green one-seat machine, retrofitted with a second seat over the shovel. This bumper seat was reserved for Otter to keep a video journal of the trip. He recruited a girl from the MSU conservation club named Alicia to drive. The small cockpit of the Bobcat was basically a Humvee for someone as small as Alicia.
As far as food, it wasn't hard to gather non-perishables for a nonstop three-day trip, but Wheat Montana stepped up anyway. The local chain donated loads of loafs from Kalispell, and also for his stops in Great Falls and Bozeman.
The only group that did not cooperate was Parks Canada. Otter wanted a greater audience for his message. He reckoned that since his starting point was Glacier-Waterton International Peace Park, the northerners would be interested. He reckoned wrong.
Even without Canada's help, Otter was packed and ready. Alicia was not. She was unprepared for inclement weather, and in a Teton County rainstorm, she caught a cold. She dropped out, her parents picking her up roadside in Great Falls.
This crammed Otter's long swimmer's limbs behind the wheel, taking the camcorder out of his hands and limiting his video footage. The shovel-seat was now used as an equipment shelf.
They ate up the road at 7 mph, swapping stories and making fun of Canadians.

******

"I still can't believe they refused to get on board on account of 'bobcats not being endangered enough'. That's not even the point! What, do you have a long list of college student fundraising slo-mo marathons?"
Ranger Redfeather concurred. "Canadians are small-minded."
"I would always defend them. I would always give them the benefit of the doubt. But if you can't even be bothered to send a maple leaf bumper sticker for the Bobcat, then what other conclusion can I reach?"
"I have known of their ways and now you do too."
"So the US Park System has to step it up and donate a Bobcat, a horse, and a ranger's time."
"Pompey is mine. And Glacier did not donate me. I am donating my own weekend."
"Are you serious? Why?"
"One: The bobcat is my totem animal. Two: Conservation is never a poor choice. Bobcats are numerous now, but so were passenger pigeons right before their extinction. Your cause is a good one."
The sun was setting behind the Big Belt mountains. The shadows of Otter and Ranger Redfeather merged and stretched twenty feet into the brush.
"Thank you for coming, Mr. Redfeather."
The ranger touched the brim of his beige Stetson.
"And when I heard the Canadians wouldn't help, I had to! Ha ha ha!"

******

"Bozeman in view, Otter."
Otter strained his face to focus. He bit his tongue and slammed his head against the metal cage to wake himself.
"Finally! All I have left is 9-grain bagels. Awful. I think I was starting to see things in the road too."
"Hallucinations are common when not sleeping for two days."
"How are you and Pompey doing?"
"Why do you think we use the word 'workhorse'? He is fine. As for me, I have trained with sleep deprivation before."
"So you're a trippin' yoga Indian Ranger."
"Trippin' yoga Nez Perce Ranger, yes."
Otter and Ranger Redfeather puttered onto the MSU campus.
"Look, there's my parents. And some of my friends. And the conservation club I guess." Otter sounded disappointed.
"What were you expecting? A local news crew?"
"Actually, yes. It's not like much happens in - whoa!"
"Otter??"
Otter and his Bobcat sunk out of view. Ranger Redfeather dismounted. Otter, distracted by the welcoming committee, had driven right through some yellow caution tape and onto a rain-weakened embankment. It gave way, sending the Bobcat tumbling into a natural gutter. The stream was only a few feet below, but the Bobcat had rolled upside down, sending cold muddy water into the driver's cage. Ranger Redfeather knew well that it took no more than a few inches of water to drown someone. He needed to get Otter out. Or at least set the Bobcat upright.
"Someone get help!" Ranger Redfeather yelled to the other end of the field. He jumped into the muck. His boots quickly got suctioned off. He pushed his weight against the Bobcat. There was no way he was going to pull it out on his own, or even set it upright. Otter struggled to turn himself rightside-up, but there was little maneuvering room and he was running out of air. Some of the crowd ran away, most ran towards the creek.
"HELP! Someone get a rope!"
Five ropes fell on Ranger Redfeather's shoulders. He looked up. Five stallions that dwarfed Pompey stood with ropes tied to their saddles. They were mounted by men in Red Serge and flat-brimmed Stetsons. Ranger Redfeather tied the loose ends to the back of the Bobcat cage. The horses turned tail and easily pulled the Bobcat up. When it was on steady ground, Otter kicked open the front of the cage and tumbled out. His family gathered around him as he spit and coughed, snotting out mud and gathering his breath.
"Otter, are you okay?"
"I'm ready for a hot shower, please. Thank you for coming everyone. Save the bobcats and so on. Alicia, you made it?"
"Of course, I'm still the historian. Say cheese!"
"Oh, man." Otter grimaced and shivered. He turned to the Mounties. Ranger Redfeather was talking to them.
"Looks like you used a bowline, Ranger?"
"Nothing works better."
Otter said, "Thank you all for saving me. But...I am surprised to see you. I thought Parks Canada didn't want to get involved?"
One of the Mounties addressed Otter. "I'm not privy to that information, but like Ranger Redfeather here, we are volunteering our time. When I picked up my daughter from Great Falls, she convinced me to be here to make up for her leaving early."
"Oh. Well...she couldn't help that she got a cold and...wait, wait...your daughter? Alicia, your dad's a Mountie?"
"Yep, we're Calgarians. Except for the constables, not sure where they're from."
Alicia's dad nodded and the other Mounties called roll.
"Constable Mackenzie, Banff."
"Constable Logan, Medicine Hat."
"Constable Rupert, Moose Jaw."
"Constable Fraser, Head-Smashed-In Buffalo Jump."
Otter shook each of their hands. "Your towns have awesome names."
Alicia's dad said, "Bozeman has a unique ring to it as well."
"Couldn't tell you where it came from. But I'm sure there's a story behind it..."

Sleep deprivation prevented me from getting a better shot of Bobcat Stadium.

University of Montana

27 Jul 2009. Montana, a majestic state and majestic campus with a majestic mascot, required a majestic souvenir. I had to splurge a little bit, but for now the Grizzly Growler (fine, it's a stein) is the crown jewel of the collection.


"Hello, Singapore!"
Persephone Evelyn Bumbaugh lifted off her sleeping mask and noise-canceling headphones. She felt refreshed and energized; hundreds of business trips had acclimated her to sleeping on planes.
Persephone looked out the window. There were no lion statues or buildings over four stories high.
She spoke to the triple-paned window, "S...Singapore? Ohhh, right, Seattle connection." But everyone else looked dismayed.
She asked her seat neighbor, a portly Hawaiian-looking man, "What's going on?"
"Didn't you hear? Some lady went into labor and we had to land in Missoula."
"Missoula...Montana?!"
She clicked on her Blackberry.
"Russ, hi...No, no, I'm not...I've been grounded by a fetus."

*****

Despite its impressive name, Missoula International Airport was not used to accommodating 747s. The ramp staff had to jury-rig a custom sized fuel nozzle from some coffee cans. That killed a couple hours, killing Persephone's chances of catching her connecting flight at SeaTac. The next flight to Seattle was in twelve hours. The decision was made: she would not be joining her competitors in Singapore.

"Russ, without my participation, our project will never gain any traction."
"I'm sorry, Persephone, but being late is more offensive to them than spitting on their grandmother. Unless our digital proposal absolutely floors them, we'll have to move to Plan B. Considering our competition, we are basically out of the running. Yeah, it's a punch in the gut, but as of now we're looking elsewhere."

She was put up at the GallatInn for the night, scheduled to fly back to Philadelphia the next afternoon.
She could not get Russ' word unless out of her mind. It meant to her there was still a chance, no matter how farfetched.
Stuck in Big Sky Country for the morning, the unless started driving her up the wall. She needed to burn off some steam. She changed into a t-shirt and workout shorts, tied back her blonde curls, and found the exercise room. All the treadmills were taken. She went to the front desk.
"Excuse me, any good running trails around here?"
"Running trails? Let's see, there's Mt. Sentinel but most people usually hike it, not run it." The front desk manager pointed to an imposing hill. Persephone was surprised she had not noticed it from her hotel room window. A big white M crowned the mountain.
Persephone said out loud to no one in particular, "M for Missoula."
"More like Murder," said the front desk lady. "If you only knew how much illegal trapping goes on up there. They've arrested half a dozen poachers this year alone, and that's only the ones they caught. If you can imagine how many poor widdle wabbits - "
"Okay, Mt. Sentinel, thank you!"
Persephone jogged away.

*****

Persephone instantly felt better breathing in the clean, cool air. She admired the maroon brick buildings and the trimmed lawns on U of M's campus. Once on the trail, she ascended the inclined switchbacks in several minutes.
That's it? I bet that wasn't even a mile.
She sat down on the concrete M and pulled out a Luna bar. She read the label: Heavenly Honey & Pomegranate, Loaded with Folate for a Healthy Fetus!
Ugh. There's marketing, and then there's pandering.
After taking a bite, she heard a grumble behind her. Reminded her of an old man emerging from an unplanned nap. She thought it was odd - she saw nobody on the run up.
"Hello?"
A hairy, meaty grizzly bear sauntered out from the brush. Persephone froze. She tried to dig from her brain any bear survival tips. Nothing useful, only the old joke where a hiker has to only outrun his friend, not the bear itself. It wasn't very humorous at the moment since there was nobody around to outrun. There was something good about the old joke though: Persephone knew that bears can easily outrun humans.
She started backing down the trail slowly.
It took all her mental discipline not to turn and bolt. And she was about to find out how long she could maintain that 100% resolve.
The bear began to follow her down the trail.
Not too closely and not too fast, but enough to torture her for 3/4ths of a mile.
A few hikers on the way up turned tail and ran. Persephone dearly wanted to join them, as well as throttle them for not getting help. Her breathing grew fast. Her heart couldn't beat any faster without popping out of her chest.
How long is this bear going to follow me??
At the bottom of the trail, she spotted a cab on the other side of the campus quad. She couldn't hold back anymore. She sprinted for her life. The bear picked up the pace of pursuit.
Passing a lifesize grizzly sculpture, she saluted it with a big chosen finger.
She reached the cab and slammed on the passenger side window.
"Let me in! Get me out of here!"
"No more fares, crazy pretty lady. I'm headed to the car wash then I'm off the clock."
"Please! There's a freakin' bear after me!"
"Huh?" The cabdriver saw the gallopin' griz.
"Great Canadian Ballet! Get in!" He unlocked the doors. She buckled in and the cab peeled out.

*****

"Were you teasing the bears, Miss?"
"That is...not...appreciated...right now. Thanks." Persephone was still gasping.
"You don't mind if I stop through the car wash? It's on the way to the GallatInn."
"I don't care."
"Good. It's a mess now. What did you smear all over the window anyway?"
"What? Oh, I guess the rest of my energy bar. Sorry."
"That's all right." The cab driver sniffed. "What was it, raspberry?"
"Pomegranate and honey I think."
"Clark my Fork! The only thing grizzlies love more than honey is pomegranates. No wonder she was after you! We need to clean this car, now!"
"You're saying if I just dropped the bar then he would have left me alone?"
"Hmmm. Hard to say, but yes, definitely."
The cab driver was glad to see no one in line at the car wash. He rolled down his window, put in the coins, rolled the window up again, and pulled forward.
There was a loud SLAM. The passenger window spidered with cracks. Persephone screamed.
The bear was back and now he was licking crumbs from his paw. The bear followed the cab into the car wash and proceeded to contentedly scratch and lick the cracks. Shards fell into the cab. Persephone clambered into the backseat behind the driver.
"Where's the damn water?"
"I'm trying to trigger it! These things all always so sensitive."
The green light flashed red and turned green again.
"Dang! Too far. I gotta reverse it now."
"COME ON!"
The light turned red. It stayed red.
"Got it!" The driver switched into P and pulled the handbrake. "Mind if I join you in hiding? This water can get hot." He piled in the backseat next to Persephone.
"You know, I've made a lot of car insurance claims but never one from bear attack."
"Car insurance? We might need life insurance!"
"Hold on now, did you know bears hate hot water? They're already baking under all that fur. Watch."
The water pumps whirred to action and flooded the car wash with a hot mist. The bear squealed and shook its face. Giant blue fabric flaps dropped from the ceiling and slid from bumper to bumper, herding the bear back. After a few rounds of the flaps, the bear gave up and ran away. Soaked, Persephone and the driver looked back.
"He actually looks kind of funny all wet. A little scrawnier."
"See? She wasn't trying to eat you, just your pomegranate and honey."
"How can you tell it was a she?"
"By the backside! You're not from here, are you?"
"No, I'm from Philadelphia."
"What are you doing in Missoula?"
Persephone rubbed her temples. "It was a horrible, horrible mistake."
"Hey. We like it here."

*****

Persephone was back at Missoula International Airport, this time at the boarding lounge. A fresh set of clothes and a hot meal later, she was in high spirits again.
"Russ, hi...No, I'm way past that...Listen, is it too late to change our digital proposal?...Axe the man in a business suit. It needs to be a bear in a car wash...destroying a car and driving out with it...Trust me, it'll draw them in...Yes!...Thank you, Russ...See you then."

Persephone's proposal drew additional interest from the Singapore group. It did not win the full bid, but was accepted as limited promotional material for a chauffeur services firm. The tagline read, "Driving Is A Bear."

The Mt. Sentinel Ramp, a big chosen finger to the wheelchair-bound

Northern Arizona University

25 Aug 2006. Perhaps this is not news to all you world weary travelers out there, but Flagstaff Arizona is not like the rest of the state. I knew NAU's mascot was the lumberjacks but that did not make any sense to me. Were the saguaros so large and numerous that an entire industry was dedicated to felling them? No, not at all. No saguaros. Only skinny alpine trees. And rain, lots of rain! Many roads were blocked from flooding. All during student move-in day too. Their lumberjack statue in front of the bookstore was defiantly shirtless and the wet brassy torso only added to his chiseled eroticism. Ooh la la!!!

Lumberjack photo courtesy "forrestcook" on Flickr.com