Mar 01, 2009
The immense open spaces of Montana are difficult to fathom for a girl accustomed the overdeveloped, densely populated East Coast and Florida flats. The expanse we traversed between Glacier National Park and Yellowstone National Park was impressive. Our southwestern departure from the park on Hwy. 2, then Hwy. 93, and finally I-90, took us through Kalispell (where we partook of an abundance of fresh huckleberries and flathead cherries being sold at roadside stands), the National Bison Range (home to the remaining 350-500 wild buffalo that once roamed the west in a herd of 35 million plus), Missoula (home to the University of Montana), Beavertail Hill State Park (directly situated on the Clark River where we camped overnight), Butte (an old mining town that was once the largest and wealthiest city in the west), and finally, Livingston (known as fly fishing heaven, gateway to Yellowstone’s northern entrance, and home to the infamous Calamity Jane). By the time we approached Yellowstone via Gardiner, I was psyched for my first encounter with the largest and oldest National Park in the U.S.