Today was watering day. Everywhere I looked massive showers of water rained down on hay fields. This hay and cattle country. A crew of yellow-slickered ranch hands walked through one field adjusting sprinkler heads. Across the road the mantis-like arms of a pivoting irrigation system moved at a slug’s pace. When the wheels 10 lengths out moved that section 10 feet, all of the succeeding lengths down to the pivot point would move a foot less. The wheels closest to the pivot moved only inches.
I am confused. I’ve heard ranchers complain about the abnormal rains that have fallen this spring and how they’re having trouble getting into some areas because the ground is so wet. I’ve seen an uncountable number of fields flooded. Yet, I can’t count the number of times I’ve ridden in the rain by a field where the irrigation system is going full blast. The explanation I’ve been told: We water intensely now because we don’t know if it’s going to rain in July and August. Meanwhile, the newspapers report that the underground aquifer is drying up due to over usage.
Rolled into Twin Bridges and was given the basics on how to make a cowboy hat by Shelia Kirkpatrick, owner of Montana Mad Hatters www.mountainhats.com. She’s been making hats for more than 35 years. And she’s so good at it that she was elected to the Cowgirl Hall of Fame. She has customers all over the country. Just before I walked in she received orders from Pennsylvania and Virginia. Her store is also a mini museum of old cowboy hats--sweat-stained, gnawed-through, crumpled-up, stomped-on work chapeaus that span close to 100 years.
As we were ending our conversation, a herd of black steel horses roared into town. More than 40 bikers from Butte parked their rides perpendicular to the sidewalk and dismounted. Dressed head-to-toe in bad-ass black Harley gear they waddled into the bar for a 10:15 a.m. beer. To a person they could all benefit from a two-year regimen of Jenny Craig. What a TV commercial that would make—Valerie Bertinelli introducing her new slim biker friends. I enjoyed their performances as I sat in a rocking chair eating my snack.
Stopped to watch a lady from Holland pan for garnets. She was finding quite a few, all be it small ones. The garnets were in the tailings of the gold placer mines that operated along the eight-mile long Alder Gulch until the 1930’s. At one time the Gulch contained 10,000 people. Less than 100 live there now. The Gulch, which at one time must have been pretty, is now just miles of piles of mechanically deposited rocks. Depressing.
Nevada City and Virginia City are to the Old West what Williamsburg is to Colonial America. Nevada City was created by a couple who in the 1930’s saw the need to preserve some of the original frontier buildings. Their efforts have since been taken over by the State of Montana which operates the site a living museum. It has been used as the set for “Little Big Man,” “Missouri Breaks,” Return to Lonesome Dove,” and several other movies. The entire town of Virginia City was also preserved by a philanthropic couple but it has a more commercial edge.
I finished the day grinding up an unnamed pass beyond Virginia City. The higher I went the more ominous the clouds became. Out here, where to can see forever, you can see weather approaching from 10’s of miles away, and I saw some viciously dark clouds. As I started my descent thunder rolled and a strap of lightening went earthward to my left. Riding a steel bicycle made me peddle like a mad man. A cold pelting rain hit me as the terrain flattened out about 4 miles out from here. Luckily, I didn’t hear any more thunder or see lightening, but still pedaled as if my life depended on it. I pulled into the first motel I saw and was greeted with a “No vacancy” sign. Fishing season in high gear, a wedding, some big dance in Virginia City and a car cruise-in filled the town’s motels, the manager said. As he picked up the phone to call other motels to see if they had a room, the rain turned to marble-sized hail. It came down with such fury that it stopped semis. Within minutes the ground was white. Then it let up but only to return with equal fury a few minutes later. “We’re used to getting hail in some of our afternoon storms but this is the most intense I’ve seen in a long time,” the manager said. He found me a room and during a period of relent I scooted here just ahead of a third dumping.
No comments:
Post a Comment