It's Day 453...it's also August 1st, 2020....and we are in Wolf Point, Montana

It's Day 453...it's also August 1st, 2020....and we are in Wolf Point, Montana.

Leaving Whitlash...trekkin back down out of those Sweet Grass Mountains....couple hours later and we were back on blacktop and headed east. We covered some ground today...with just over 300 miles in the rearview...and the North Dakota border drawing near...we were on the look out for a spot to pull off for some dinner....and some shut eye. As dusk approached...the perfect spot would come up in a place called Wolf Point Montana. Small city park like are just off to the left of the main road....with the perfect shaded spot for the rest of the evening.

We had no idea as we pulled into town....that we had entered the Fort Peck Indian Reservation...and Wolf Point is the largest community on the reservation with a population just over 2,000.

And yet another small town...with a ton of history.....the foot prints of Lewis and Clark all over the area.....their first trek through here would be in May...of 1805.

And that Fort Peck Indian Reservation...located here in northeastern Montana...near the Missouri River....no surprise I guess.....comes with a deep history of it's own. It is home to the Fort Peck Assiniboine (pronounced as uh-SIN-uh-boyn) & Sioux Tribes....and includes several other bands of these Native American people.

The Canoe Paddler and Red Bottom bands

The Sisseton, Wahpeton, Yanktonai, and Teton Hunkpapa

The reservation was officially established in 1888. The Fort Peck Indian Agency was relocated to its current location in Poplar, Montana, in 1878 because of flooding issues at the original site.

And this reservation played a role in the Great Sioux War of the 1860s and 1870s. The Battle of the Little Bighorn that we had read about way back there in Wyoming...last year.....that took place in 1876 was a significant event during this period....effecting the native Americans up here in this part of the state as well.

I'd learn that after the Battle of the Little Bighorn, Sitting Bull and his followers sought refuge in the Red Water country, which is part of the Fort Peck area...and was reminded that he would eventually surrender in 1881.

I also learn that like so many others....this reservation maintains it's history of bison hunts, which originally..... were crucial for the tribes' survival....but in todays world....the annual activity is more about retaining the native American culture....and careful management of the reservations bison population.

And here I am again....starring out over the rolling hills adorned with Wind turbine farms...silently generating power...dotted here and there with modern day working ranches....and picturing a time when those bison roamed these plains....no wind turbines....no ranches....no fences....just native Americans on horseback scouting....tracking....and hunting those bison....surviving....just living....here...Some pretty remarkable work has been put together on this life....and these people....check this out.....(Insert Video).....I was struck....when chief four star said....I don't have the same number of people to learn from that my great grandfather did....I feel like the same is happening to us all. Just a generation or so ago....My grandfather would teach the difference between right and wrong.....and I wonder....who's telling todays youth the difference between right and wrong? We live in a world in which anyone that wants....goes on the internet and says anything they want...true or not....and it seems....very few challenge them. Today....the fact is...we live in a country in which the president of the United States is a pathological liar...He literally makes stuff up....and no one challenges him...instead...we rewarded him...with the highest office in the land. What's happened...even the mainstream media....in the everlasting quest for the almighty advertising dollar....no longer speaks truth to power and calls him on anything...instead....they simply report on his antics while raking in the dough.....when did all this happen? I feel like regardless of political affilliation....or policy belief....we should all be first..... Americans....ya know....agree.....disagree.....but at least talk...debate...arugue....but then move on....as Americans......but it feels like that is changing...or has it already changed? I dunno....sometimes I feel like all of this is so confusing...I can't even talk to folks about it anymore....seems like as soon as they learn I didn't vote for him...that I am somehow innately bad....and the enemy......weird.

We have another election coming up.....end of this year. I hope it ends the four years of chaos this man has thrown the country into .... but I'm completely aware that half the country feels exactly the opposite....and again....we can't seem to talk about it...if ya ask me...sad.....

We'll see I guess....

But back to Wolf Point.....within all that history....it's also famous......for hosting the Wild Horse Stampede each year during the second weekend of July. A rodeo first established...and held in 1915...and remains the oldest in the state....around here...the annual Event is referred to as the "Grandaddy of Montana Rodeos."

Sounds like a weekend event packed full of fun stuff....parades, an actual Wild Horse Race, traditional Native American dances, street dances...all mixed in with Carnival like games, rides attractions. Tons of food...including a decades old tradition called...Catholic Burgers....a unique stampede tradition in which the towns local parishes serve up burgers throughout the event... and of course....World Class Steer Roping and Bronc riding...and many other pro rodeo events.

Sounds pretty dang cool...a bit bummed that we had missed it by just a couple weeks....and it was also cool to learn that the event took place this year...in spite of the pandemic. The community added some safety measures...but for me...just another example of life out here... in rural Montana...pretty awesome..... that they didn't let a pandemic interupt the communities 99 year old tradition.

Things were pretty quiet as we rolled through....almost hard to believe that just a couple weeks prior .... we would have been visiting the town right along with around 15,000 other adventure seekers....ahh....next time we'll plan better.

Reading a bit more about the town....it really is all about the reservation around here...The reservation itself encompasses numerous historical sites, including tipi rings, buffalo jumps, and several other sacred locations.

As Dougie and I walked the quiet streets and the sun dipped below the horizon...it cast a golden hue over the town.....while The Missouri River.....which played a pivotal role in the town's early days as a trading post.....flowed by silently.

In the late 19th century, the Great Northern Railway's arrival in 1887 spurred further development, cementing Wolf Point's status as a key community in the region.

Returning to the park from our last walk of the evening... under that Big Sky...full of stars, we settled in for the night....enjoying the quiet....of yet one more small town....this one....in the Great Plains of Eastern Montana....

Later that evening, around 10 p.m...it was so quiet..... the TV was off, the laptop closed, and the boys and I were likely dozing off...and then suddenly....it wasn't so quiet....the rumble of pickups rolling into the lot. A couple of teenagers hopped out, dropped the tailgates of their trucks, and engaged in lively banter. Before long, more cars joined the scene, and it became clear that we had unwittingly chosen the local meetup spot.....to get ourselves some shut eye.

Listening to their animated conversations, it was evident that these friends had spent a Saturday full of adventures on the Missouri River—intertubing, fishing, and swimming. It was pure Americana, a snapshot of rural life that seemed almost nostalgic. There wasn't a cell phone in sight; these teens preferred the company of each other over screens, embracing a day of real-world fun over video games with internet friends.

The scene took an interesting turn when the sheriff rolled up a few minutes later. Everyone greeted him by name as he asked, "Shouldn't you all be headed home soon?" They agreed, promising they'd leave shortly, and he fist-bumped a few before heading out himself.... adding... "Y'all get home safe, hear?"

One by one, car doors slammed as the teenagers packed up for the night and rolled out. As I watched the last set of tail lights fade into the darkness, I couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and nostalgia. It reminded me of my own teenage years in Gilroy and North Branch, long before the internet and cell phones. Afternoons at the lake or days of horseback riding would end at the Frosty Freeze....Flings Pizza.... or even the roller skating rink. We found mischief here and there, always with friends—never alone.

And last night in Wolf Point, Montana, I saw the same camaraderie and joy...but in a very different time....it felt like...those young adventurers had found a way to meld the past with the present, enjoying real-life experiences over digital distractions. It was good.....it was nice.... to watch.

We were up early the next day, taking our first walk and having coffee and breakfast...and ready to hit the road..... by 7 a.m. As we pulled back onto the highway, continuing east, I pondered how we were putting another small town in the rearview, and yet....at the same time..... taking a piece of its charm, history, and personality with us.

Map says we still got 500 miles or so in front of us till we hit Fargo.....

As the sun rose in our windshield.....I wondered what the next sign would read.....The one that would tug at us.....compell us....to leave the asphalt again......

And I wonder what we'll learn there...