Montana Cowgirl

Little did I know how tightly the synchronicity of the road wound about me in East Glacier. All the planets were aligned and the signs were all good. I decided to go on a horse trailride the following morning. It would be nice to be back in the saddle and seemed like a good way to check out the area at a distance close enough that the smoke wouldn't be a problem. I dropped into the Glacier Gateway Trailrides office, just down the road from my hostel and booked in.

When I arrived the next morning, the Blackfeet Indian guides had to cancel my 3 hour ride because most of their guides were off fighting the fires. They offered a 2 hour ride with another group instead. I gladly accepted the revised offer and off we went. As we meandered along I chatted with John, one of the two guides, about horses and riding and the trails. He watched me ride for a while and then asked if I wanted to help out as a guide. They needed someone who could ride along with the group and keep an eye out for stragglers. I could keep any tips I made and, of course, I could ride all day for free. I thought about it for ... oh, about 10 seconds before starting a new phase of my life as a Montana Cowgirl.

Here I am on the first horse I rode. His name is Not-for-Sale, which I thought was quite promising. Henceforth, I rode a much more appropriately named horse: Skippy. They called me Miss Australia, partly, I suspect because Mouse never quite caught my name. That's Mouse below, standing on the left. His nephew John is on the right.


I worked hard, had a lot of fun, and was tipped generously by many delightful guests who got a kick out of the blonde Aussie Montana Indian cowgirl. I also had an opportunity to learn a lot about the Blackfeet Indian life in the Two Medicine region at the edge of Glacier National Park. John showed me which berries are good to eat (they're the ones the bears use to season you). He also showed me some traditional medicines like liquorice root which smells exactly like liquorice and can be made into a syrup for treating upset stomachs. Then there is a black moss that grows on trees. When boiled into a tea it is used to treat asthma and other respiratory complaints. John calls it bigfoot hair. He made me a wild rhubarb flute and explained the difference between black bear dung and grizzly bear dung (grizzly bear dung has watches and rings in it).

Despite John's efforts to convince me to stick around until September and help with the muster, the road called again and I had to answer. Montana has much to offer and there was still hiking to be done in Grand Teton and Yellowstone National Parks. I rang Ducati Kevin, organised dinner in Missoula, washed off the inch of trail dust and horse smell then hit the road. There is always the possibility that I'll go back and be a Montana cowgirl again.