One Nation, Under God
One Nation, Under God
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Out for a morning walk during a recent trip to Australia I struck up a conversation with three 10-year-old boys who were fishing the Patalawonga River near Adelaide. I asked what they were catching. “Brim and bass,” they told me. Recognizing my accent, they asked if I was from the U.S. “Montana,” I replied. “Do you have any automatic weapons?” they asked in unison, eagerly awaiting my reply. “No,” I said, explaining automatic weapons remain off-limits to most Americans. “Do you have Jolly Ra...
There are two Montanas. One struggles to control rampant development and growth. The other simply struggles to survive. Plans for a destination resort on 90 acres in Park County’s Paradise Valley are drawing heat from local residents. The development, which includes 100 cabins, a restaurant and retail space, will change the character of the area, they say. Opposition is growing. In Phillips County, where development is lacking and population is declining, there isn’t enough money to pay she...
Montana is known for extreme weather: raging blizzards, ferocious winds, bone-numbing cold. It was at Rogers Pass, after all, where the coldest temperature in the Lower 48 was recorded. Unpredictability was the state’s calling card, Chinook winds turned frigid January days balmy in a matter of minutes, early September snowstorms put an abrupt end to summer. Montana, like at least a dozen other states, embraced the saying “If you don’t like the weather, wait 15 minutes.” That was then. This is...
I don’t know what I was thinking. Instead of hunting every day since the season opened like I’ve done for the last 20 years, I took on a building project. In September. It might have simply been an effort on my part to prove to my wife that I can do more than hunt in the fall. Now I’m paying the price. After pounding nails for three weeks I can’t hit the broadside of a barn, let alone a bird on the wing. My dog’s motor is stuck on high, and neither of us is in shape. Dot quit after hunting two h...
After hunting the first two days of the season, I traded the shotgun for a tool belt and went to work. I told Barb I could get her sewing room enclosed in a couple of weeks. It didn’t quite happen, but the framing is done, the roof is on, and she’s off to Toronto for an authors’ conference. I’ll hunt while she’s gone, and finish up the work when she gets back. I designed the building so that I could pretty much do it by myself. Barb helped me stand up the walls. Other than that, it was just...
I’m having a difficult time accepting the perks of aging. While I don’t hesitate to ask for senior discounts when available, I’m less apt to accept help in physical matters. At the lumber yard last week, a concerned clerk offered to carry four small boxes of nails and a roll of tape to the cash register for me. “Thanks,” I told him, “I’ve got it.” He then asked what I was working on and when I told him it was a roof he said: “Hey, you be careful.” I don’t know what prompted his concern. I was dr...
I reserve a block of time to hunt every fall. It’s typically the whole season. My wife used to push back a bit, but in recent years has relented, finally realizing, I suppose, that four months of me gone most days is a pretty good deal. This fall I’m paying her back. Instead of hunting I’m building. We sold our house in Malta last summer forcing us to downsize. What didn’t fit in our cabin on the lake we divided between the office we still have in Malta, and the small house we bought a couple...
I set the alarm for five, confident I wouldn’t need it. I didn’t. Waking ten minutes early I turned off the alarm and got dressed. Nearly every opening morning for the last 18 years the routine has been the same. So has the place. It’s hallowed ground. Scout died after she was bitten by a rattlesnake there in 2006. I buried Jem there four years ago. He too, suffered a snakebite along the same creek bottom, but survived and lived to the ripe old age of 14. Spot and Ruth and Ace — all of them go...
The start of hunting season almost caught me by surprise this year. Almost. After selling our house in Malta and all the moving that entailed, followed by a trip to Australia, I’d been occupied with other thoughts. Lately, they’ve been centered around jet lag recovery — like why am I wide awake in the middle of the night? I suspect it’s related to the Saturday we lost at the start of the trip. Flying out of Bozeman on a Friday morning we spent 18 hours in the air, somehow arriving in Sydney...
I am a sucker for zoos. Tell me you’ve got some sort of exotic critter in a cage out back and I’ll cough up a few bucks to see it. To that end, I’ve visited some marvelous zoos in this country and across the globe. The San Diego Zoo tops my list closely followed by the Royal Dutch Zoo in Amsterdam and the Emperor Valley Zoo in Port of Spain, Trinidad. Woodland Park Zoo is a must-see whenever I’m in Seattle, as is the Living Desert Zoo and Gardens when Barb and I visit Palm Springs. Atlanta...
My wardrobe has changed little over the last two decades: Shorts and T-shirts in summer; Carhartts and wool shirts in winter. Dressing up means a clean shirt with a collar, and jeans. Even on vacation that wardrobe changed little. Until now. Tomorrow I board a flight to Australia. My talented wife is being honored at an authors conference in Adelaide, and I’m tagging along. While Barb — wearing fashionable attire — attends events at the conference, I’m free to explore. Carhartts should suffice...
Staying fit isn’t easy, especially as I grow older. It becomes harder all the time to avoid my slothful ways. To that end my smart watch keeps track of my daily exercise goals, encouraging me to step it up if I’m falling short, and praising me when a goal is achieved. “Take a 20-minute walk to close your exercise and move goals,” the watch will tell me as I’m curled up on the couch with a beer. I rarely respond. While I typically start the day with good intentions, by noon I’ve lost most of my...
I remember being told years ago that if assault rifles were banned, my semi-automatic shotgun would be next. It was meant to scare me into joining the fight against gun control even though I didn’t understand why most folks needed a military-style weapon in the first place. I still don’t. But I’m apparently in the minority. It used to be that the majority of gun owners were hunters or folks who kept a handgun for “home security.” While military weapons were coveted by collectors, they weren’t t...
Barb and I moved to Malta nearly twenty years ago fleeing the rampant growth that was just beginning to take off in the Gallatin Valley. We bought an old house and an office building in town, and settled into life on the Hi-line. Barb wrote while I renovated the buildings, grew a big garden, and hunted. Yesterday I walked out the door for the last time, leaving the house that I’d lived in longer than any other. One last load of boxes, tools, and furniture filled the pickup and flatbed t...
Cleaning out the house has been a chore. It takes time to go through twenty years of accumulation of stuff, some of it worth saving, most of it not. A lot of it came with us when we moved from Bozeman, including a box labeled rocks and another labeled iron. Opening them for the first time in decades I was disappointed to find they were just that — a box of relatively unremarkable rocks and old horseshoes. What had I been thinking? At least it was easy to dispose of them. Another rock is more dif...
I stepped out my back door last week to be greeted by a flag bearing the f-word in foot-high letters. It was mounted on a decrepit vehicle parked next to my property, and only steps away from the gymnasium where children had attended a basketball camp earlier that day. I wondered if they had seen it. The flag was political in intent, but obscene on purpose. Some idiot, I’m sure, thought they were being funny. I didn’t. I was mad, and a bit disappointed to see such a public display of obs...
I’ve had some pretty prestigious Montana addresses. General Delivery, Cooke City was my first, and it’s still hard to beat. Tucked into the valley of Soda Butte Creek, surrounded by snow-capped peaks, Cooke is only a couple of miles up the road from Yellowstone Park. I’ve also called Livingston home, and probably will again. Like Cooke, it has spectacular mountain views, and while Yellowstone is a few more miles up the road, it’s still close. For a few years, Barb and I lived in Bozeman on Will...
For the last 20 years my life has been ruled by dogs. From the moment I woke in the morning until I went to bed at night there was always something canine that needed doing. Whether it was letting them out or letting them in, filling food bowls or picking up poop, the dogs demanded my attention. From September until January we hunted more days than not, and I loved watching them work. Hunting also tired them out. Consequently they were best behaved in the fall. Wearing them out during the other...
The following was a column that Parker wrote shortly after his father passed away. It ran in the Dec. 24 issue of the Bozeman Chronicle. It had been years since I’d seen my dad naked. But after mom died and Dad left Florida to move in with my daughter and her family in Livingston, he needed assistance bathing. We’d bought him a shower chair, and I’d help him take off his clothes, step into the tub and sit down. He could still soap himself and then I would rinse him off, towel him dry and get h...
We had a garage sale last weekend. Twenty years of accumulation since we moved to Malta. Almost everything sold. There’s not much left to donate or take to the dump. Folks snatched up furniture, framed prints, used tires, old tools. A few things didn’t sell: outdated electronics, sketchy exercise equipment, lightly worn boots, and my bicycle. A Trek mountain bike that Barb gave me before we were married, it was my escape from the city when we lived in Bozeman. I could hop on the bike at our apar...
It was simply a matter of time. Apparently Montana is too cold for Harrison Ford. Ford was one of the main characters in the “Yellowstone” spinoff “1923,” which was filmed in Butte. However, according to the Austin Business Journal, the show is packing up and heading to a film studio in Austin, Texas. If only all the recent transplants to Montana, lured here by the “Yellowstone” series, would follow suit. Weather used to be one of the major factors in keeping out the riff-raff. Montana was...
I’m waiting for one of the political candidates running for office in Montana to bring up an issue that actually affects me. While the mess on the southern border continues unabated, we have no crush of immigrants where I live. I read and hear about male athletes crossing the line to play women’s sports, but that’s hardly a concern here. My freedoms are not being infringed upon. I can legally pack a gun, buy weed, and gamble, although I’m not sure those were freedoms that concerned our foundin...
I like to drive. It’s how I got here. I left Indiana following high school graduation in 1970 behind the wheel of my 1958 Ford big window pickup. Planning to drive all the way to Alaska for a pipeline job, I ran short of money in Montana, got a job with an outfitter in Cooke City, and thought I’d died and gone to heaven. I sold the pickup that fall to a guy who worked road construction. He wrecked the truck shortly thereafter and it became fill on the Beartooth Highway. After a short stint in...
Following an aborted hitch-hiking trip to Alaska that ended with a night in jail in Eureka, I found myself in Livingston waiting for a ride to Cooke City where I had work. It was hours before dawn and there was no traffic. I curled up next to my backpack and closed my eyes. The sound of tires crunching gravel woke me with a start. A Livingston police cruiser had stopped just feet away, and a cop, holding the passenger door open, said get in. He drove me a few miles south of town, told me to get...
We knew it was too soon, but we wanted to fish. The ice had come off early and the temperatures had already reached into the 70s. Something had to be biting. Right? Not necessarily. We pitched crankbaits, pulled bottom bouncers, and dropped jigs all with the same result. Nothing. Taj Mahal was apparently wrong when he sang “All fish bites if you got good bait.” Fort Peck Lake has a reputation as one of the top walleye fisheries in the nation, but you wouldn’t know it watching us. Me, I could...
