Moonbeam (Kid Stuff)

One of the recurring themes that I find in my quest for treasure is ghost towns.  Now, history books would tell us that some of these places died because the gold ran out.  Others because the railroad changed course.  And still others came to rest because someone of vision died and their dreams were buried alongside.   But my experience says otherwise.  There is little doubt that each resident left town one by one for whatever reason and simply couldn’t find their way back.  The word “remote” just doesn’t do these places justice.

And so it was with a deserted town somewhere in Montana – empty, save for remnants of lives left behind to slowly decay.  Desolate, save for the questions left behind.  Who were they?  Why were they here?  Where is that cache anyway?  Well, poking around resulted in no answers, and soon a larger question presented itself – which way out?  The way in had been dusty and further than anticipated.  And so east and west were the only other options – west being a very narrow, potholed road.  East, more inviting, but in the wrong direction.  Well, two cowboys were mending fence just across the little valley on the road east.  They were the only people I’d seen since gassing up back on the Interstate so I decided to ask them for advice.

Now, I call them “cowboys” but that’s just me.  They had the right hats and the right boots and leather vests.  But no horses.  What they did have were some bad-ass trucks that just had to have names like Crusher or Thunder or Rambo.  Well, they were polite enough not to laugh when I rolled up in my silver CRV but the initial look on their faces said it all – “What the heck is this guy doing out here?”  Anyway, really nice guys.  Said they worked on the Circle Sky Ranch – 80,000 acres.  They debated for a minute about snow pack but quickly dismissed it and decided that the best route to Great Falls was east.  “Just watch out for rocks in the road.”

Now a wiser man might have gleaned a few “red flags” in that brief encounter and backed out through the entrance.  But the part of me that stalled somewhere before that age when a boy becomes a man was thrilled.  And off I went.

The first hour or so was through small valleys of rolling green pasture, sprinkled with trees and carved by streams. Simply beautiful – almost idyllic.  But not a soul to be seen.  All the man-made structures seemed to have been abandoned long ago, leaving one to ponder what went wrong.  

A narrow slot canyon seemed to form out of nowhere.  Just barely enough room in the bottom for the roadbed and a bustling stream to run parallel.  I was beginning to understand what my friends had meant by “rocks in the road”.   

But it was the rocks over the road that gave me pause and the part of me that stalled somewhere before that age when a boy becomes a man was beginning to get a little bit on edge. 

Well, the little canyon spit me out on a high plateau of rolling grassland.  There were pockets of drifted snow here and there.  And the road became arrow straight toward the horizon. 

Occasionally a fence line would be crossed and the accompanying rumble of the cattle-guard affirmed that the Circle Sky had been left far behind.  And still, not a soul to be seen.  The runoff from the drifts crossed the road at the low points and after fish-tailing and coming within a breath of getting high-centered a few times, the initial thrill had long since been replaced by an echo of wisdom past:  “You can survive your first mistake.  It’s the second one that will kill you.”  Not very reassuring as the mistakes seemed to be adding up – the big one just hadn’t hit yet.

Well, eventually I was reassured by a column of dust off in the distance that gave witness to a tractor and plow.  And not long after that a ranch-house with any number of bad-ass trucks parked alongside.  Then the little town next to the highway that my friends had promised.  And off I went.  

So, lessons learned:  Always fill the tank when leaving the Interstate.  Distances on a map can be deceiving.  Distances to the horizon can be deceiving.  And some roads just shouldn’t be tackled by drivers who name their vehicle Moonbeam.