Monida, a Dying Little Town

©Bert Gildart: And so after a week of waiting for storms to abate, we’re off. But first, we alarmed the house, informed neighbors of our travels, got a periodic house sitter, loaded our Airstream, loaded the back end of the truck, boxed up camera gear–and are now back on the road and will be for the next four months. We’re excited about all the potential photography, for we have a number of assignments in some very beautiful settings.

Though we’re eager to see sunny skies, that doesn’t mean we got far yesterday, day one; no further, in fact, than Deerlodge, Montana, about four hours from home. Today, we didn’t get too far either, as we stopped at several places of interest. As well, the winter roads slowed us.

Monida Pass was the spot that most captured our interest. Located at the junction between Montana and Idaho (Mon & Ida=Monida) it is a lofty pass located on the Continental Divide at an elevation of 6,820 feet. The setting is gorgeous, but this is one of the first times we’ve passed through this part of southwestern Montana that we have not had to contend with brutal storms. One time we camped in this small, almost deserted settlement and awoke next morning to a foot of fresh snow and howling wind. The conditions caught the weather man by surprise–and, consequently, us too.

ONCE A STAGE COACH STOP

Years ago I wrote a story about the mailman who worked out of this tiny settlement. The man’s name escapes me but he claimed his route, which in winter was all covered on snowmobile, was the most remote route in the Lower 48. In the late 1800s stagecoaches ferried tourists from the railroad at Monida Pass to Yellowstone Park until Union Pacific built a branch line to the park. Little seems to have changed.

Today, when we detoured off Interstate 15 for a stop at this empty settlement, the weather was relatively pleasant. Though not warm or snow free, at least the wind wasn’t howling. But the houses all seemed deserted and if anyone was living in them, residents certainly didn’t broadcast their presence. Songwriter Jimmy Buffet wrote a song about one such Montana town, and rather than “Ringling, Ringling, it’s a dying little town…” he could also have written about Monida, for it, too, is pretty darn bleak.

Windswept barn, Mondia Pass

An old barn, back dropped by the Pioneer Mountains, captivated my interest. Unused and unattended the barn has been shaped by wind and snow. (From previous posts, some will recall I enjoy photographing old structures.) We parked for a few minutes on the single road that passes thorough the settlement and, then, on to several of the ranch families that live in the area.

We spent about an hour here then moved on, for the weather man said another storm was brewing, and this time he could be right. In places the roads were packed with snow, so we didn’t make great time.

By day’s end we pulled into a snowy commercial campground in Ogden, Utah. Our truck thermometer indicate a high of 33. At eight it dropped to 19. I got a shower in the camper and Janie wanted one too, but in the 30 minutes required to reheat water in the hot-water heater, our outside hose froze. Sorry, Janie, no shower tonight. Remember, please, I said you could go first.

Tomorrow, if we’re lucky–and if we don’t get sidetracked–we’ll pull into to Zion National Park, destination number one. After Zion we have a number of assignments in different states and national parks in California, Oregon and Nevada. On this particular trip, which will be one of many this year, we’ll be on the road for almost four months.

We hope you’ll tag along.

This entry was posted on Sunday, January 13th, 2008 at 9:05 pm and is filed under RV Travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.