U.S. Secretary of the Interior Sally Jewell and National Park Service director Jarvis announced on Tuesday that First Peoples Buffalo Jump has been designated as one of four new National Historic Landmark.

National Historic Landmarks are "nationally significant historic places" designated by the Secretary of the Interior because they possess exceptional value or quality in illustrating or interpreting the heritage of the United States.

First People's Buffalo Jump State Park is located several miles west of Great Falls, just north of Ulm; the name was changed from Ulm Pishkun to First Peoples several years ago.

The site was added to the Montana State Park system and also designated a State Historical Monument in 1972.

A December 2005 management plan (PDF) for the park stated: "Ulm Pishkun State Park is primarily a cultural park, but also includes significant natural features. The site covers 1,423.86 acres covered in native short grass prairie habitat and abandoned croplands, with an additional 1.984 acres in road easements. The park is bordered by private property and DNRC leased lands."

A press release from the Department of the Interior states:

First Peoples Buffalo Jump is one of the oldest, largest, and best preserved bison cliff jump locations in North America. Its monumental record of stone surface architecture, deeply stratified bison bone deposits, multiple tipi ring concentrations, and extensive evidence of ceremonies indicate that, for approximately 5,700 years, First Peoples Buffalo Jump held the paramount position in the Northern Plains “bison culture.” This site holds the potential for defining the evolving sophistication of mass-procurement strategies of hunter-gatherer societies in the Northern Plains, and may also provide insights regarding cultural development of Precontact hunter-gatherer societies in the western United States.

The park's website notes:

First Peoples Buffalo Jump State Park is an archaeological site with possibly the largest bison cliff jump in North America. Native peoples used this site for at least a thousand years before Lewis and Clark passed through here. The bison jump site consists of a mile long sandstone cliff; there are remnants of drive lines on top of the cliff and there are up to 18 ft. of compacted buffalo remains below the cliff. The park has an interpretive trail, picnic tables and a protected black-tailed prairie dog town to help the visitor better understand the epic history of hunting on the high plains.

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Jenna Caplette migrated from California to Montana in the early 1970s, first living on the Crow Indian reservation. A Healing Arts Practitioner, she owns Bozeman BodyTalk & Integrative Healthcare. She says, " Health is resiliency, a zest for the journey. It’s about coming awake to the joy of being alive. As a practitioner, its a privilege to facilitate that healing process, to help weave new patterns of health & well-being. “ And by the way, healthier, happier people help create a healthier, happier world.

I had one of the worst cups of coffee I can remember while on a road trip to Rapid City. You could say I deserved it. Stopping ifor gasoline in Gillette, Wyoming, I saw a sign for espresso, pulled over to a building with dented up siding and a seen-better-days sliding aluminum window with a closed sign propped in it. As soon as I drove up a woman appeared, moved the closed sign off to the side, smiled and gave me a story about why it had been there. None of it seemed very hopeful but I’d been on the road for a long time and didn’t want to drive around Gillette looking for better.

I ordered. She listened, smiled again, and said, “How about I surprise you?”

For my cappucino, I suspect she dumped instant coffee and artifical creamer into hot water. When I pulled in to a gas station, I had another sip, thinking it couldn’t really be as awful as all that?

It could. I laughed, threw it out.

The progression of coffee on the drive from Bozeman to Rapid City began with good and tasty. Columbus Falls, not so good but OK. And then, Gillette.

But then Bozeman has become a coffee town. When Leaf & Bean originally opened in the Downtowner Mall on Willson decades ago it is was a BIG deal. Coming from the San Francisco Bay Area and spending my high school and college years drinking Peet’s Coffee, having espresso available in Bozeman was thrilling. A select group of us frequented Lear & Bean but it must have been a significant enough number that it wasn’t long before it relocated to Main Street. It was followed by a succession of coffee houses coming and going, and coming, until Leaf & Bean itself went this past spring.

Its passing is sad though I’d changed my coffee-allegiance several times — and melted a succession of handles on Italian on-the-stove espresso pots until I finally bought a plug in gizmo. Not one of the fancy ones. Just basic, though it will steam milk.

I still bring home Peets Coffee from the Bay Area when I visit. When I saw one of their blends recently in a sale flyer for one of the local big box stores something of the mystic of Peet’s died for me. The same when I found out Starbuck’s now owns it. But still. its the coffee I grew up on. Full bodied and oh-so-good.

I remember making the decision to like coffee on a high school camping trip. It certainly didn’t come naturally. It seemed like something grown-ups do and I was in to things that made me feel grown-up.

So I drank coffee. And learned to like it. Especially when camping. I liked Cowboy coffee, with the grounds thrown right in and boiled strong, then settled with cold water. I remember drinking coffee like that with old timers at Crow when I lived there in the 70’s, and once up in the Big Horn Mountains at a Forestry Outlook. I drank it in enamel cups, in chipped ceramic, in stryofoam.

In Bozeman, I gave my fickle allegiance to businesses where I could get a free cup, completely disregarding flavor in the interest of free. And I still sometimes like that bottom-of-the pot rotgut like they serve at the tire store when I practice the season ritural of snowtires on, snowtires off.

Mostly though, I prefer espresso.

Over the miles and the years, I learned where I could get relatively good cup while on the road in Montana and looked forward to visiting those places. They were few and felt special. A gift shop in Lewistown, one in Choteau.

I admit that I spend a few years where I only drank green tea but won’t write an ode to that time.

While in Rapid City I found a funky little coffee place that roasted their own and got Aussie Cappucinos.. I liked the cache of the name, and the guy with the accent who served it up with a little shake of chocolate and a perfect leaf pattern on the top. And I liked having a place that felt familiar for a few days, where they recognized me — home but not home.

On the return trip? I didn’t stop in Gillette. At all.

Lacey Middlestead is a Montana native and freelance writer currently living in Helena, Mont. She loves meeting new people and helping share their stories. When she’s not busy writing articles for newspapers like the Independent Record and Helena Vigilante, she can usually be found indulging in her second greatest passion–playing in the Montana wilderness. She loves skiing and snowmobiling in the winter and four wheeling, hiking, boating, and riding dirt bikes in the summer.

There’s the cinnamon-y aroma of miniature donuts and funnel cakes wafting about the air. Whoops, hollers and pounding hoofs beckon from the grandstand as the rodeo commences. There’s the clanking of horse trailers shuttling about. Skimming above the tree tops are the colorful capsules of the Ferris wheel rotating about its giant axis.

You know it’s officially summer when the fair comes to town!

It doesn’t matter whether or not you’re a fan of rodeos, fried foods, carnival rides, or farm animals—most everyone flocks to their local fairgrounds each July or August to partake in at least some aspect of the fair. After all, it comes but once a year.

I remember driving by the fairgrounds when I was younger and catching that first glimpse of the Ferris wheel towering above the trees at the Lewis and Clark County Fairgrounds. That was the only sign I needed to know that one of the best weeks of summer had arrived. My best friend, Jamie, and I couldn’t get our parents to drop us off fast enough.

With rodeo dust in our hair and eyes squinted, we’d march up to the ticket stand and reach tacky cotton candy fingers into our pockets for the ride money our parents had graciously surrendered. For the next few hours we’d lose ourselves in the tilting, whirling, spinning motions of rides like the Tilt-a-Whirl and Yo-Yo. We were too young still to have much for worries in the world. But regardless, those hours spent at the fair dissolved away any stress we had about our upcoming social studies test and our fears over what we were going to grow up and be someday. We just lived purely for the moment.

As the years have passed away, the fair has lost some of its magical aura for me. I now cringe at the concession stand offering a seemingly limitless menu of deep fried items wondering how my stomach will handle it. My eyes hone in on the dilapidated nature of the rides seemingly held together by a few rusty screws. I look at the carnival workers now and feel overcome with sadness in wondering if they’d ever dreamed of doing more. And I miss having Jamie in town to take in all of the sights with me.

But this year, the fair was returned to its former glory for me……and it was all thanks to a little blond haired, blued-eyed 4 year old.

I decided to tag along with my friends, Brad and Tara, as they braved the chaotic maze of the fair all for the sake of their daughter, Camille. Like most little kids, she couldn’t wait to see all of the animals. So while her parents mingled with some friends they stumbled into, I walked Camille around to show her all of the sheep, chickens, rabbits, steer and goats.

Much to her delight, there were several small baby goats all jumbled on top of each other in one pen. Camille crouched down next to them and inched her fingers in through the fence lines. One of the goats perked his head up and nudged his mouth over to her to start sucking her fingers. Even though I knew Tara would probably try to douse Camille’s entire body in hand sanitizer if she witnessed the sight, I just couldn’t bring myself to pull her away. She was giggling in this uncontrollable, high-pitched manner I only see her do when she’s really happy.

After scoping out all of the animals, Camille grabbed my hand and yanked me towards the rides. While we were all standing in line to buy tickets, Tara asked Camille what ride she wanted to go on first. She pointed to the Ferris wheel and said she wanted to ride with me. Not being a major fan of heights, I reluctantly pulled a few crinkled dollars from my pocket to buy enough tickets to take one spin on the ride with Camille. My stomach twisted into knots when we first got on the ride and Camille naturally sat down next to me causing the entire seat to tip to one side. Once I got over my initial jitters though, I actually started to enjoy myself. Each time we approached the peak of the wheel, Camille pointed and yelled out that she could see the entire fair from where we were. And we really could.

The last ride I saw Camille go on was the little dragon roller coaster. To date, that is still the only real rollercoaster my scaredy-cat self can admit to going on. Brad seemed a little hesitant to let Camille brave the ride for the first time, but she was adamant she wanted to go on it. After slipping her down into one of the green cars next to another little girl, Brad joined me along the fence surrounding the ride to watch. I think we were both prepared for screams and waterworks, but what followed when the lever was pulled to start the ride still has me laughing.

After rounding the first half of the track, Camille finally came into our sights. She had—hands down—one of the biggest smiles I have ever seen on her face. Her head was tilted back and her mouth open in a full-tooth grin.

“That’s pure happiness right there,” Brad said laughing and snapping photos on his phone.

And it was. It really was. It got even better when the carnival worker let Camille and the other kids stay on and go for a second ride free of charge. I do believe Camille’s smile may just have prompted that unprecedented act of generosity.

As adults, we often chuckle at the all too easy-to-amuse nature of children. We wonder if we too were really like that once….and can’t help but ask ourselves what caused that delightful quality to disappear. I guess it’s just one of the consequences of growing up. But watching Camille that day reminded me just how little it takes to truly be happy in this world. And I couldn’t help but wonder if one of the reasons behind why everyone has kids is so that they can continually relive the wonders of their childhood through the light and smiles in their children’s eyes.