The latest issue of Montana Quarterly is entirely dedicated to water issues. One of my contributions was this portrait of Dick Vincent, who had the temerity to tell established river stewards that stocking fish actually made a fishery worse, not better.
And he was right.
Now 40 years have gone by, and largely thanks to this one man, the Madison River in southwest Montana is one of the best places in the world to catch a wild trout.
Nice going, Dick.
I’ve gotten a lot of mileage out of this picture of the brink of Upper Falls in Yellowstone National Park. And I found out this morning that National Geographic senior editor Kurt Mutchler selected this picture as one of 40 photographs for display at PhotoPlace Gallery’s The Art of Travel Photography exhibit June 2 through July 3.
Mutchler writes, “As a photo editor at National Geographic magazine I gravitate to photographs that capture a ‘decisive moment’ and are free of contrivance. I also look for landscapes that talk to me like good portraits—capturing the personality of the scene with beautiful light, perfect composition and a mood that beckons me there.”
Thanks. I’m honored.
At the turn of the 20th century, the U.S. government and the Northern Pacific railroad wanted more people to head west and homestead. In 1904, the Crow Indian tribe ceded a large portion of their reservation to the U.S. government. Though close to the Yellowstone River, the land was dry and difficult to farm. So in October 1905 the U.S. Bureau of Reclamation began construction on the canals of the Huntley Project Irrigation District, named for the Northern Pacific rail station of Huntley. The first water from the project made it to farmland for the 1908 growing season and the towns of Worden, Ballantine and Pompeys Pillar were soon plotted at about six-mile intervals to the east along the railroad.
The main canal is 32 miles long and irrigates 29,000 acres of farmland through a swatch of prairie measuring 2.7 miles long and four miles wide.
Dale Bilyeu is the part-time manager of the HPID. He’s been a rancher and farmer in the Huntley area for more than 40 years. His economic life has been tied to the water the project delivers.
In May 2011, Bilyeu’s livelihood — and those of his neighbors — had a big problem. Less than two miles downstream from it’s diversion dam in the Yellowstone River, a 100-year flood event knocked out a syphon that channeled river water beneath Pryor Creek and into the irrigation canal. Five hundred thousand dollars was needed to make a temporary fix for the 2011 irrigation season, Bilyeu says, then $2.3 million to install a new, sturdier version of the syphon.
Most of the irrigation in the Huntley Project is in the form of gated pipe, which sends a flood of water through the furrows of a field of crops — mostly feed corn, sugar beets, malt barley, hay and alfalfa in the area.
Adam Vogel manages the gated pipe irrigation system Vogel Land and Cattle uses to irrigate their feed corn fields near Ballantine. Vogel says he runs water for 8 to 12 hours from the irrigation canal out of the pipe into the fields about four times each year, depending on conditions. The water runs downhill through the furrows of the fields, ultimately winding up back in the Yellowstone River.
Vogel, 30, says he has spent all of his life in Ballantine, but when people ask where he’s from, “We just tell people we’re from Huntley,” he says. “You say you’re from Ballantine, nobody knows where that’s at.”
The Express Way convenience store is a big gathering spot in downtown Huntley, population 446. Jim Clarkson, left, visits with Bud Sherrodd, a farmer and construction contractor who who says he spent a portion of that day digging a hole for a friend’s new septic system in Huntley.
Melissa Koch, 28, grew up in Portland, Ore., but visited Huntley often on family vacations. When her dad moved back to Huntley, Melissa followed in 2009.
“It was a culture shock, I’ll give you that,” she says.
She has been director of the Huntley Project Museum of Irrigated Agriculture since 2010, where visitors can get an idea of what life was like for the early settlers of the Huntley Project Irrigation District.
Many of the present settlers of the HPID stop in at one time or another to drink coffee or beer at the Dark Horse Saloon in downtown Worden. Dick Miller, reading the paper just before the second shift of coffee drinkers steps in, owns the Dark Horse with his wife, Dixie.
Dixie Miller, visiting with the afternoon coffee shift, says the back bar and nine others like it were stolen off of a train near Roundup in the early 20th century. By 1913, she says, the bar had been floated up the Yellowstone and installed in its present location. She says coffee drinkers come into the bar at 5:30 a.m., 7 a.m., 10 a.m. and again sometime between 2 p.m. and 3 p.m., “depending on how their naps went.”
Around the corner from the Dark Horse is Michael Reiter’s Project Merc grocery store. Reiter, 49, says he grew up on his grandparents’ homestead nearby and began working for the store at 14. He bought it 10 years later.
He says he works 12- to 14-hour days six days a week, then often pops in on Sundays just to see if he’s needed. When I found him as the sun was rising on a late summer morning, he had been unloading produce for nearly two hours at the back of the store.
Reiter and other businesses in the community face challenges from proximity to the big box stores of Billings, a city of more than 100,000 people less than an hour’s drive away. And when the school that serves the Huntley, Worden and Ballantine area burned down five years ago, things looked especially bad.
But the school was rebuilt and open three years later, showing a commitment to maintaining a living, breathing community.
“I provide a service to our community,” Reiter says, “to make sure we have a store in our town.”
“We need more Americans to engage with wilderness, and not just by visiting national parks, because many can’t afford to vacation there. We need people to appreciate nature where they live, so they’ll see the importance of preserving it everywhere.”
— John Elder as interviewed by Leath Tonino in the June 2013 issue of The Sun.
I’ve been making an effort lately to appreciate where I live. And when I came across the John Elder interview above and it referenced the wonderful phrase, “the undiscovered country of the nearby,” coined by John Hanson Mitchell in his book, The Wildest Place on Earth, I was touched.
So I’ll share these pictures — all except for the one above made within three miles of my cookie-cutter house in sea of beige in northwest Bozeman. I found the snow covered boulder above along the Gallatin River about 30 miles south of me.
Mr. Reynolds passed away Friday at age 77 while loading hay at his ranch near Twin Bridges.
One of Sports Illustrated’s 50 greatest Montana sports figures of the 20th century, Reynolds was inducted into the Pro Rodeo Hall of Fame in 1993, and a career that spanned six decades includes honors like Professional Rodeo Cowboy Association Rookie of the Year for 1958, All-Around Champion in 1961, and more than 300 belt buckles.
Plus, he was a heck of a nice guy.
“He had to be every one of our heroes when we were growing up,” Jim Croff, president of the Montana Pro Rodeo Association, is quoted as saying to the Great Falls Tribune in 2010.
What better way to be remembered?
Like many parts of the country, Montana is weathering through a patch of frigidity these days. Even for us, this is especially cold. But opportunity is in the eye of the beholder and here in Bozeman, we happen to be close to a center of great ice climbing famous the world over: Hyalite Canyon.
Last year, Sierra magazine assigned me to photograph a Veterans Expeditions trip up Hyalite that brought about a dozen veterans up to a U.S. Forest Service cabin for a few days of adrenalin-pumping fun.
The story focused on Demond Mullins, a 31-year-old Ph.D. student, former dancer and model, from New York City who served in Iraq and like the rest of the expedition, was seeking a way to readjust to non-combat life. Mullins would soon become a husband and sociology professor.
The group talked to me about the camaraderie of being among people with a shared set of experiences. About how people who had been strangers a week before were now close friends who could relate to missing the adrenalin rush of combat and the difficulty of re-entering a world ignorant of what it is like to be shot at.
I have earned my living by making photographs for more than 20 years, mostly for newspapers and magazines. I've authored a few coffee-table books and won my share of awards.
I believe a successful picture is one in which the viewer sees themselves.
The more we see ourselves in other people and in other places, the more we will cherish those people and places. But we must trust the truth we feel.
Truth resonates character. Character resonates truth. When we perceive true character, that generates trust.
Done well, photography speaks universally and authentically, overcoming barriers of language and culture and trust. So I choose photography to share true character of people and places.
I want people to see themselves in the people and places I photograph.
I want people to realize we all have more in common than in conflict.
I've just published a book, Montana: Real Place, Real People. It celebrates the true and authentic people and places writer Al Kesselheim and I have come across in our travels through this wonderful state.
I give a motivational speech called, "Be Who You Is." It's about the authentic, genuine character that I've discovered and been inspired by over the last decade.
My favorite color is orange and I like canoeing, classical trumpet and Nordic skiing. I love farmers and ranchers, even though I grew up in Chicago and I'm allergic to pretty much everything with four legs.