Abandoned Under the Big Sky

There have been no comprehensive studies done in Montana to determine whether or not their sky is in fact bigger than others, since measuring a sky is no cheap task and the state itself is hardly one of the Union's richest. It is apparent from driving through the countryside, however, that the sky is at least 40-45 feet larger than the one in southern California, 15 feet larger than the Oregonian one, and nearly 35% larger than the one in the Seattle area.



The sky's size, however, is not necessarily an advantage. The reason the skies in previous states are so small is due to the fact that much of their airspace is taken up by hills and mountains - not a problem with Montana, which in direct opposition to its name is a fairly flat and desolate place. Whoever titled it must have only visited the westernmost sliver, the only part of the state that could be called "mountainous" in any way. The state in general, or at least the stretch along Highway 2 that I find myself drifting across, is the most barren and isolated land I have ever seen.



However, the drive through these badlands is made worthwhile by the occasional town, one every ten miles or so. Railroad tracks run parallel to the Highway and as a result of their location, the residents are dependent on trains for everything. Some of these towns have a central rail depot and a population of 60-100 people, but most of them consist of nothing more than depot ruins, some dusty forgotten farms, and a population of zero. There is a solitary way of life in this area that appears to be dying out, just like these buildings and the land itself. Much respect goes to those who continue to live here.















Below, a tunnel in one of the only sizable Montanan towns I have found. I liked the graffiti and decided to make it my home for the night, only to determine ten minute later that sleeping a tunnel is a ridiculously dumb thing to do.