Pork, The Other Montana Meat

CASA

In all my time as a journalist and human being (and maybe it may not be all too long), I’d never heard of CASA. I was a social worker intern in New York for god sake and I’d still never heard of CASA… what was wrong with me? Well today, I figured I’d join up and CASA was who I was going to join up with.

I’ve always had a soft spot for human services, trying to help those who need helping, I just didn’t ever know how to really get involved and actually make a difference (beyond recycling, donating and praying) but today I think I’ve found a way to help. CASA, Court Appointed Special Advocate Association) is a national organization that helps children who are in trouble. And I don’t mean help as in I’ll need a medical or psychology degree to help, I mean someone who goes to court on behalf of a child’s best interests. That person is going to be me from now on… well from mid September on – I will need a little training.

While coming to Montana was slightly whimsical and staying perhaps a little more to the insane end of the spectrum, I’m glad I did and I’m glad I am… I will make a difference yet.

Jillian Michaels

Jillian Michaels may not be a household name, but to those who have used her DVD’s (properly) or watched her network TV shows knows that she has devoted her life to making people proud of themselves (and a little bit to fame).

During my senior year of college I decided to devote myself not only to my studies but to my health as well – I took on a strict diet and work out regimen and with the help of a few Jillian Michaels DVD’s I dropped 40 pounds in four months… and not only that, I also did phenomenally in all of my classes – I had my life under control.

Turns out, when you’re that strict, the slightest imbalance can throw you off… Upon graduation I moved back to New York where I took a job upstate doing PR. Because the job was at a vegetarian retreat center, it was not too difficult to keep in shape but as soon as I moved on to working in Stamford, CT it all went out the window.

I think now that that was one of the many factors that lead to my leaving that job – I was unhappy in a lot of ways but one of them was with my health. I had gained all of the weight back and was generally unhappy - I was not obese by any means but my weight triggered the feeling that I was back to square one… I was not where I wanted to be - I was not doing anything that I could be proud of.

I was trained as a journalist and where I was working, they threw ethics out the window and ethics is something I am a stickler about… the company has continued to report unethically, and more so now that I am not there to put my foot down. I can’t explain it all now but something in my body told me that I was going against everything I had worked toward and I was not about to let myself fall off of the ledge, I was going to wake up and smell the proverbial coffee.

So this is yet another tale in “why Morgan moved to Montana,” and I am happy to say that the health kick has come back… ten days in and seven pounds gone… hey, it takes more than a saddle to get back onto the horse.

The Help

As my family walked toward the Richard Rodgers Theatre, my mother and I were discussing New York City. You see, this Easter, my mother had decided we should go to a show. My family always loved musicals but as my fathers' beard began to salt and pepper, my mother decided we should see Bengal Tiger at the Baghdad Zoo – a show staring the salt and peppering Robin Williams (another family favorite).

I began to explain to my mother that I didn’t ever want to live in New York City, I tried to get across to her the fact that this noise and constant hustle would severely disrupt my chi… a chi I had worked pretty hard to achieve. Her response – anyone who didn’t want to live in NYC was a wuss… afraid of all of the things it had to offer. I do not share this opinion.

“I don’t want to live anywhere where it is impossible to find a place to be alone,” I was pleading to the side of her that had taken up yoga in the past decade. She did not seem content with this reasoning but just then we had arrived at the theatre and the conversation shifted to how my father could have been Williams’ understudy... and he most certainly could have.

About two months later I would pack up and move to Montana, a place where finding peace was as easy as pie. There has been little to no threat of being in any place that was too crowded… and I admit, I did miss the hustle a smidge but not enough to move anywhere… that was until Lauren and I decided to see “The Help.” The book is a bestseller that I had read a few months back and the film had just come out – I was looking forward to it and we decided to go in the opening week.

The theater was packed… so packed in fact that we had to sit in the fourth row - my neck is still in pain. It took walking through a sea of people (more people than I imagined were in the city of Helena), tripping over purses and whispering ‘excuse me,’ to realize why I had come to Montana; for time, peace and quiet, and to figure out what or who I was... I’m not there yet - but I am glad not to have lost my foothold.

There is a character in the novel, Minnie Jackson, who was always exactly who she was, no matter what setting she was in and no matter who she was talking to and that’s who I want to be. Sure, it’d be nice to be a little like Skeeter too – write the novel, work with words ever day… but then I’d likely end up in New York City, and who really wants that?

Once there was a girl

Once upon a time there was a girl, and this girl found herself in a foreign place with very little direction. This girls father had always told her that when you’re lost is often the best time to find yourself… so that’s what this girl decided to do – search. The girl had left her job; a job that took more of herself than she had to give, had left her friends and family, and had disappeared into a valley surrounded by tall mountains so that only those within the valley could see her – well those people and perhaps a few giants, giants that could peer over the mountain tops.

Still feeling a little lost, the girl began to look for any sign that she was doing the right thing. She began attending church again, and a beautiful church it was… a cathedral if we’re being precise. The girl began applying for a variety of jobs, some that she was qualified for, others she was not. She began looking for ways to control what was around her, her habits, exercise, diet, her belongings - all in order. A sense of déjà vu crept over her as if she had done all of this before. Was the girl attempting to find something she had already found… Or starting over because last time it had turned out all wrong? Something told the girl that slow and steady was the way to go, but she wasn’t sure.

What the girl was sure of however was that no matter what comes our way, eventually, something good will happen. She knew this from experience and because good things had to happen to good people. The girl truly believed… Of course, this all assumes a just world.

One month and counting

I've been here in Helena for a little over a month now and here are some of the things I've come across: lots and lots of Moo's, kind people, some horses (a lot bigger than I imagined), unusually kind people, big skies, lots of stars, tons of mountains, nice hiking trails, some floating rivers, and a lot of country.

All of these things I should have assumed to run into but I don't think I mentally prepared myself… you see, my friend Lauren had been semi-jokingly asking me to move to Montana for about six months before I actually did – and the catalyst to such a decision was weighted in my disdain for the East Coast, not my intense desire to travel out west – ergo my unpreparedness. It’s alright though. I’ve come a long way since arriving, though I’ve been cautious about what I explore and when. Maybe I haven’t come as far as many would like but those many still call east of the Mississippi home.

At first I thought I would dive into the culture head first and run around the town and outside ranches, exploring fast and loose…. but I realized that perhaps in taking things slowly I could allow myself a little time to investigate myself as well as my surroundings. I’m not sure how far along I am with all that either… I’ve had a few breakthroughs here and there but I feel my impatient nature creeping up - telling myself to hurry up and understand the west as well as myself and get on with it already. Trick is, I’m not sure which side of me is right in this situation.

MOOOOO!!!!

Today was perhaps my first real up close and personal encounter with some Moo’s…. thank you for that word, Lauren. Now I have seen a cow in person before but only in petting zoos… in captivity surrounded by suburbia… never in an environment for which they are superiorly adapted. And thus began my Friday afternoon at a 4-H steer show.

Who knew there were six classes of steer, and each class was different based on size? … The correct answer would be a cowboy, not a Morgan. The man judging the competition, Collin Gibbs, called six or so steers out at a time, spending about ten minutes inspecting each Moo and watching how it interacted with his handler before grabbing the mic and explaining for us what was good and what wasn’t so good about each particular steer. I still have to look up what “Twist” means as well as the meanings and connotations of “Dry” “wide in the behind” and “green” mean.

Lauren and I grew particularly fond of a certain steer that we named Peabody. Now, Peabody was in the third class…. So medium class? J And let me tell you, these Moo’s may have been huge but they were only calves!

After two hours of judging cattle, Lauren and I headed home but not before stopping at Arby’s where I ordered some curly fries… and as the teller takes my order, he cracks jokes over the intercom and Lauren laughs at me because I truly didn’t know how to handle it… no drive through sales associate has ever been that light hearted, and before even seeing who I was! I could not be more pleasantly surprised by Montana… I’ll just have to work on lightening my own heart.

Mount Helena

I drove over Bear Mountain several times over the course of my life, to Elmira College, to Iowa, a general upstate destination, you name it, but I only hiked the trails a handful of times. That’s why when I got to Helena and was told by Lauren to “head toward to mountain thing and explore,” I decided to take a look at what this mountain had to offer.

All in all it seems like a pretty normal mountain thing - several trails marked by colored lines over a diagram adjacent to the parking lot, the same trails marked by colored string on trees where the terrain may seem a little less certain… but by god I am determined to master every one of those colored paths.

Last Friday was my first jaunt up the thing, I had just begun really exercising vigorously again and so I decided to take what seemed like the most harmless route, as it was the longest and made a sort of loop around the back of the mountain… turns out I should have read the description of the trail that lie next to the diagram. Note to un-experienced hikers: the blue route? It kind of gets lost in some semi-steep rock formations. Sadly, I had to retreat to another off shoot trail to climb the mountain… I am still not sure what this particular trail was but it worked out just fine.

Monday I thought was going to be a new day – I ran into another hiker at the parking lot who claimed to be from Buffalo, New York. Hey I thought! To get to Buffalo I have to drive over the Bear Mountain… good sign. This gentleman, Mark, told me to take the red path… I decided this time to glance at the description, which said that the red path was the most popular route, although significantly shorter than the blue route -in my mind this means steeper. Turns out my mind is pretty sharp and so were the turns I had to take through the mountainside, zig-zagging paths like little Z’s up the mountain. After about an hour I ran out of water and decided it was best to turn back… dehydrating on Mount Helena is not quite how I pictured my adventure.

Yesterday I decided to hike once again, this time though I had limited time as I was supposed to go to the historical society (upon Lauren’s request). I decided that I would try to find my way around those silly rocks on the blue route… because you know, in the movies, you persist and you look like an ass at first for being stubborn but then you succeed in the end! Turns out, my being right was a Monday thing because I still couldn’t make it past those damn rocks, AND I was on a time crunch so I had to head down the mountain in defeat.

There are still a few more colored paths up the side of Mount Helena and as god as my witness I will conquer them as well as route red and blue… you just wait... and maybe I’ll tell you about it.

Meowwww

I can't say that too many of my adventures in New York began with an hour long drive to a ranch, followed by an hour long caravan to a cabin, followed by a half hour long continuance to another cabin... and this was just the beginning.

You see, the evening before, Lauren and I went to Wal-Mart to purchase inner tubes for the 'Meow Mixer,' a float trip organized by some several dozen adventurous rancher women, instead, due to the last minute approach, we bought some neon pink rafts. If at any point we really believed that these would be sufficient, we were out of our minds.

The Mixer’s destination was a cabin on a ranch next to the Smith River somewhere in Montana and after a lovely potluck lunch (I must have eaten ten times my body weight in delicious dishes) it was tubing time. Our friend Rose had arranged for Lauren and I to borrow some real tubes which was a godsend because the rafts would never have made it down the river… float trip is a funny word because you only really float for about ten percent of the time, the rest is maneuvering little rapids and avoiding what Lauren referred to as #giantrockdeath.

You’d think social networking would be more prevalent in New York but Twitter ruled that Saturday on the Smith River.

You see my friend Lauren was not mentally prepared for the actualities of a float trip, and I cant say I was either but she had the misfortune of taking a tumble over the first rapid area and falling off of her tube head first into the Siberian water. From then on it was Twitter everything… #rapiddeath, #giantrockdeath, @pres.Jacks (as we pretended to be Lewis and Clark making our way out west… I don’t think ‘explorers’ will be our next profession). The two of us held on to ends of a stick as to not get away from each other which ultimately became a sort of game in our exploration dreams.

An hour into the trip we finally reach the cabin again and stumble out of the river, fighting the currents hold over us and thanking god for some kind of solid land... while we were shouting hash-tags into the air I realized how beautiful the scenery up here is and how people take it for granted, showing these sights in movies and making it so no one ever need step out of their house to take in such wonders... well step out of the house my friends because you wont have adventures like this just sitting on the couch.... yeah, Brokeback Mountain may have the Art Direction but nothing beats screaming #giantrapiddeath and freezing your butt off while looking at the pristine pastures above you.

Second week out west

As the first week in Helena was about finding a job, so was the second... Still waiting on that golden opportunity but I have grown to appreciate patience as I have grown to appreciate the ways of ranching life. Lauren and I have continued to create our little home - found some furniture pieces at some seriously low prices! We have also added Gershwin to our happy little family, Gershwin Emerson McHugh-Chase... one of the most darling of pet rocks. We also have Roberto, Alejandro and Magpies... Note, Magpies are crazy birds.

I have been learning more and more about ranching and about the history of agriculture industry and I must say, that if you don't know anything about it, you're missing out.... learn a little about Florida and a little about the original American cowboy!

I made a few friends with Lauren at O'Tooles on Friday night and I'm thinking this place is just right for me :)

Yesterday Lauren began teaching me to rope and I have to say, getting that rope around that chair was one of the highlights of my Montana experience so far... I'm not sure why but I feel as though I've accomplished something. Slowly but surely I'll get the hang of this yet, I'm confident in that.

Seven Days and Counting

It's been a week since I arrived in Montana, the journey took a bit longer than I thought it would but that's to be expected when White Eagle tells you to take your time seeing your friends. I spent a week and a half in Iowa, the state where perhaps I feel the most comfortable - I saw friends I hadn't seen in over a year and spent a lot of time 'rallying.' We made cute 'family' dinners, went out on the town, watched a tv series...followed by the cult film, went to balloon festivals, took seemingly meaningless trips upstate... all in all the best vacation in the world that I never wanted to end. But end it had to and tears fell upon I-80 as I drove toward my next destination; Kansas City, Missouri.

I didnt think my trip could get any better, I really didnt but I was wrong. I pulled into Christian's drive way after managing to get myself lost and felt the surprising ease I always feel around him. It's odd because I've known him for ten years and still, to this day, I am always surprised by how comfortable I am around him... you'd think I'd have learned by now. Regardless, the three days I spent in Missouri confirmed my suspicion that I have the best friends in the world. He took me out to meals (something no one actually does in the east coast... no one that I know anyway), over to see his family again as I hadn't seen them in years, he took me out at night, we played pool (he let me win a few times), he took me out to meet his friends and their families, would give me a kiss and tell me I was beautiful no matter who we were around just because he felt like it in that moment, and he walked around with me on his arm as though he was proud to just be around me. Christian is one of my best friends - he makes me feel more loved than I know what to do with, and genuinely so. Suffice it to say, as I pulled out of his driveway I was again crying, this time on some random highway.

That is how my journey to Montana began. It took two days to drive from Kansas City to Helena - as soon as I arrived I ran to WalMart (twice) to gather supplies for Lauren and my new apartment. For full disclosure, in the past week I have been to WalMart at least 8 times... it's certainly a new world but they have everything!

Our apartment is pretty phenomenal, three bedrooms, a large living room and kitchen, cute bathroom, loud children neighbors... oh wait, those little ones are not quite a highlight. Lauren and I have been gathering things (thanks to her mom as well) for the apartment... scored huge at goodwill - coffee table, kitchen table, AND side table for a total of 17 dollars... not to mention the sweet cowboy boots I found there for 3. Our home is not quite complete but it should be soon - we're also planning on getting more groceries because we have more storage space than a smugglers pirate ship.

So far I've been looking for work out here and already noticing how friendly strangers are to others... It's like being in a welcome time warp. Well I'm off to find some street toward the mountain thing that Lauren told me to explore :)