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” — and realized that, in fact, we did not: a farmers’ market was getting under way momentarily at a park near the old train station. ” Joe asked me, as we walked past cutesy little stands selling artisanal birdhouses, heirloom cucumbers and organic granola.Three perfect children played a game of leapfrog on the grass as the Sun Raven Band plucked mandolins.A few years ago, the band Little Big Town had a hit song called “Boondocks.” It was a twangy, boot-stompin’ ditty about the raptures of rural living: “I feel no shame. I was born and raised in the boondocks.”If only I felt that way about my home state, Montana. We would either arrive in Big Sky with newly open minds about Montana or we would be sporting a bumper sticker of our own: “Paddle Faster.When you live in Los Angeles as I do and people learn that you grew up in Montana, the reaction is always the same. I Hear Banjo Music.”How would anyone in Montana know we were a couple?In turn, Whitefish has been overrun with wealthy “out-of-staters,” as the lady working at Cowgirl Coffee put it.We picked up a free activities newsletter — the one with a column titled “Did Ja No? And, ahem, holding a whole state accountable for a few jerks is not especially big-minded of me. I may have been tortured by certain classmates at Billings Senior High School, but my mother, now a teacher there, recently helped start its first gay and lesbian student group. An opportunity to prove her right — or wrong — arose in late June.
Joe kept his window rolled down as we passed the Weeping Wall, a stretch of two-lane highway where water sprays out of the rock cliffs and splashes on the asphalt. A slice of pie (.50, hot or cold) was our humble goal, but as we passed the huckleberry licorice and jars of huckleberry hand cream, we started to feel uneasy.Enjoy easy accessibility to award-winning restaurants and shopping as well as Glacier National Park.From fishing on Flathead Lake to world-class skiing on Whitefish Mountain, enjoy the breathtaking views of Big Sky Country like never before.Downtown isn’t much, just the county courthouse with its sandstone tower, a few rowdy-looking bars and a largely vacant Main Street; the smelter closed years ago. We decided to go on a classic date: dinner and a movie.Barclay II, an old-fashioned supper club and lounge, was packed, and we soon understood why.
I gave Joe a peck on the cheek and we sat down on a picnic bench to listen to the music, his arm around my shoulders.