D I S T I N C T LY M O N TA N A • W I N T E R 2 0 1 8
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Noting the less-than-ideal conditions, I asked Joe why work today?
"It was sunny and warm a week ago. It always seems to be crazy
weather when we do this. A little wind and snow won't stop what
needs to be done though."
Unable to withstand the biting wind any longer, I hopped in my
car and headed back down Looking Glass pass. As I descended out
of the mountains and into town, I rolled my windows down. e
evening wind picked up loose snow, making invisible forces visible to
the naked eye. e wind buffeted the conglomeration of old houses
and trailers, skirting along the dirt streets, and howling through the
Amtrak tunnel. e wind shapes us.
e wind does leave a visible mark on the land. ere's no denying
the harsh winters that make life here hard. Or the summer wildfires
whipped into a frenzy by the winds off the mountain peaks. East
Glacier holds the same pitfalls of any small mountain town, added to
the history and tensions between the park service and the reservation.
But as I watch the warm glow filter out of Two Medicine Grill,
I know what DeeAnna left unsaid.
It's the people that shape this town, this land. e magic quality
I sense was a strong sense of community. at's what drove people
out into the night to rescue neighbors and strangers. at's what led
ranchers to face harsh weather to care for cattle entrusted to them.
As the wind whipped the snow into stinging points, drowning
out the calls of the cattle herding around us, I had asked Joe why he
considered this town special. Leaning against the holding pen, he
looked out beyond the snow, the wind, and the men and women on
horseback. He shrugged. "is land, it's home."
Stretch of Highway 2; beware cattle on road.
The Glacier Park Trading Company is one of the
few businesses that remains open in winter.
The evening wind
picked up loose snow,
making invisible forces
visible to the naked eye.
