Distinctly Montana Magazine

w w w . d i s t i n c t l y m o n t a n a . c o m 43 diet, the intermittent fasting diet, the vegan diet, the veg- etarian diet, the pescatarian diet, the whole food diet, etc. It is bewildering at once. And then there's the brand-name diets, like Weight Watchers, Optavia, Whole 30, and more. Needless to say, none of these appeal to me. They sound uni- formly hideous. They also sound a little like cults, most of them, with byzantine rules and rites that have to be fastidi- ously observed. Why can't there just be a diet with simple, easy-to-grasp rules? And that's when it hit me, a flash of inspiration sure to set the nutrition world afire... I would invent the Lewis and Clark diet. Think about it—have you ever seen a picture of Lewis, Clark, or any other member of the Corps of Discovery in which they were even a little corpulent? Never, not one! And even if there was one, it was probably Toussaint Char- boneau, who Lewis tells us spends a day lovingly making something called "white pudding" out of the south end of a bison. Also, he was French. Well, they must have happened on some slimming secret to keep them so trim! So I pored over my copies of the journals and devised a strict diet that, if followed, will lead to a sexy, slender new you in no time. First, and this might seem counterintuitive, is to fry every- thing in bear grease. Lewis and Clark were wild about the stuff, using it for everything they could and some things they shouldn't, like cooking with it and rubbing themselves with it. For about $38 including shipping, I was able to buy 1 oz of bear oil on Ebay. Advertised as 100% pure bear oil with shea oil and "a touch of beeswax," the packaging claimed that it was good for everything from eczema and arthritis to hemor- rhoids. Wow, I thought. Not only a healthy cooking oil, but a panacea as well! I had referred to my books and found that expedition member Raymond Darwin Burroughs reports that Lewis and Clark dispatched: Deer (all species combined) 1,001; Elk 375; Bison 227; An- telope 62; Bighorn sheep 35; Bears, grizzly 43; Bears, black 23; Beaver (shot or trapped) 113; Otter 16; Geese and Brant 104; Grouse (all species) 46; Turkeys 9; Plovers 48; Wolves (only one eaten) 18; Indian dogs (purchased and consumed) 190; Horses 12. Now this left me a lot of options in terms of protein choic- es. Turkey? Check. Bison? Check. Deer and antelope? Check. Still got some medallions in the freezer. Plover? Sure, absolute- ly, I've got so much plover my pantry's almost fully ploved. Dogs? I've got six of the no-good louts, and all they do is sit around all day anyway. Check. I seem to be set for a while, protein-wise. I settled on hamburger even though, technical- ly, it's not on the list. So I plopped the contents of the tiny jar into a hot cast iron pan, which sputtered and gave off an indescribable scent. Then I added a big burger patty and cooked it until it was medium-rare. I then took a bite, imagining it was a plover I had shot on the Missouri. After coughing and spitting into the garbage, I realized that I was cooking with a skincare product. As I swished my mouth out with whiskey, I reflected that this really was an ingenious way to stay svelte, because food cooked in bear oil hand creme will staunch all but the most avid explorer's ap- petite. Thank God, I prayed silently, that Distinctly Montana paid for all that bear oil. The next phase of the Lewis and Clark diet was inspired by one of the most difficult and strenuous parts of their trip, when they had to portage 18 miles around the Great Falls of the Missouri. It took them some 31 days to haul all of their boats and equipment, so I estimated it would take me about three days until I was as lissome as, say, Missing in Action-era Chuck Norris. So I dug my old canoe out of our storage shed and filled it with dirt and rocks, then struggled to pick it up. My young- est son, the only one who hasn't yet realized his old man's kind of an idiot, stopped to watch. "What are you doing, Dad?" "Well, son, I'm reenacting Lewis and Clark's grueling por- tage of the Falls." He nodded so, encouraged, I continued. "You see, I'm try- ing to invent a fad diet. So I can buy an RV." At the mention of the RV, a familiar song around these parts, he gave me a polite but dismissive nod, then went inside before I could get out an invitation that he'd just have to decline. So I went back to hauling this canoe all over the yard. At my advanced age, I had to give up on the notion of getting the thing up over my head when it was full of detritus, so I spent a few minutes dragging it by a rope until, exhausted, I went inside for a beer. I know that beer isn't technically allowed under the strict- est interpretation of the rules of the Lewis and Clark diet, but I figured I'd earned it, so I cracked the top of a can of Otter Water and considered trying to fry up a grilled cheese and hand moisturizer sandwich. But, faced with having to gag down more lotion, I decided not to. See? The diet was already working. PLOVER? SURE, ABSOLUTELY. I'VE GOT SO MUCH PLOVER MY PANTRY'S ALMOST FULLY PLOVED.

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