A mini metropolis of teepees sprawls across the parched plains, and in the early hours of the morning the first to rise are the children.

They have an important job to do.

"We'd wake up in those tee-pees, and we were pretty happy to slip the bridles off the horses and ride bareback to the river," remembers Jim Real Bird, today a man of 58.

"We'd take the horses to the river to drink water -- that was our first job as young boys."

Each August, the rolling hills surrounding Little Big Horn River in Montana are transformed into the "Tee-Pee Capital of the World," with over a thousand tents and hundreds of horses converging for the Crow Fair and Rodeo.

Started over a century ago in 1904, the four-day festival is one of the largest gatherings of Native Americans in the country, with spectacular traditional costumes casting a luminous kaleidoscope of color beneath a brilliant blue sky.

It's also an important training ground for the next generation of rodeo stars.

"It's one of the largest Indian rodeos within the United States of America," explained Real Bird, who today teaches youngsters how to hold on for dear life in the arena.

Montana News>>>KBZK

Joseph Shelton is a freelance writer who graduated from Montana State University with a degree in English Literature. He lives in Bozeman, where he enjoys hiking, reading, and being a misunderstood artist-type.

I have a friend who is very proud of being from Butte.  In fact, I have several, but this particular friend, who looks somewhat like one of those photographs of pugilists with names like Mug O’Shaughnessy or Guinness O’Irish or the like, is a dyed in the wool true believer in the power of Butte, America.

Now, it’s not that I’m not a fan of Butte, so put down your brick bats.  But it is a place that I had to come to appreciate.  As a kid, ignorant of the town’s remarkable history, it seemed like any other mining town, and there are a handful of them in Montana. 

But as you and I know, I was wrong.  Butte’s history is sufficient to ensure that it will be remembered forever as one of the great American cities.  You should read Mary MacLane’s journal, a section of which was reprinted recently in DM: http://www.distinctlymontana.com/Montana-people/Mary-MacLane.  When I read this I turned to my very Irish friend and said “boy, they oughta make a movie!”

He has recently pointed out that they are, a case, surely, of great minds thinking alike. 

“The Orphan Girl” is a production made by Montanans, with help from the Montana Film Office.  The production company behind the film is from Bozeman, but their love for Butte is apparent in the promotional materials they have provided. 

The film was shot this summer in Butte (where else?) and was funded by a campaign on Kickstarter which met and exceeded their funding goal.  The multi-media documentary will feature interviews with surviving miners as well as dramatized segments showing what life was like in the Orphan Girl mind at the turn of the last century. 

The footage that they have already shown is beautifully shot, and shows enormous promise.   And even the star, Brick Patrick (which also sounds like an old fashioned pugilist) is a Butte native pursuing an acting career in L.A.  As if that were not enough incentive, funds from the film will be plowed back into local Butte businesses.  This is a Montana production in every sense. 

But as excited as I am, no one is more excited than my true believing pal, who will remain anonymous except to point out that his name has at least one capital O and one apostrophe thereafter, who surely believes that all movies should take place in Butte, or at least figure it prominently into their plot.  To emphasize that point he cursed and shook a meaty fist at me.

So if you attend the September 11 premier at the Mother Lode theater in Butte, be prepared to brawl my Irish buddy for the best seats.  He’ll be waiting.

Within the boundaries of Medicine Lake National Wildlife Refuge in northeast Montana lies the Medicine Lake Wilderness Area.

The refuge was established in 1935 to provide breeding and stop-over habitat for birds.

“The refuge was established for migratory birds,” refuge manager Michelle Chappell said.

More than four decades later, a portion of the refuge was designated as a wilderness area by a bill passed in Congress in 1976.

Medicine Lake Wilderness is Montana’s smallest wilderness area, covering 11,366 acres.

The wilderness area is divided into two units: the main waterbody of the lake and the Sandhills Unit.

Most of Medicine Lake itself is included in wilderness boundary. A small portion of the lake, west of Highway 16, is not included in the wilderness boundary. The wilderness also includes the natural islands in the lake.

The Sandhills Unit, located southeast of the lake, is made up of rolling hills and large sand deposits. Sand dunes in the area range between 20 and 40 feet in height, according to Wilderness.net.

MORE>>>Washington Times

Wild Horse Island State Park on Flathead Lake is one of the real treasures of Montana’s state park system.

To make a perfect summer day, you can sail or kayak to the massive, mostly undeveloped island and swim, fish, hike or watch wildlife to your heart’s content. The island is three miles long, but is very hilly and the landscape alternates between grassland and forest.

At 2,164 acres, Wild Horse Island is the largest freshwater lake island west of Minnesota. Salish and Kootenai Indians are thought to have used the island to keep their horses from being stolen by other tribes. Today, a population of about five wild horses, a herd of mule deer and about 100 bighorn sheep inhabit the island.

Since it was sold to the state in 1978, Montana Fish, Wildlife and Parks has managed the animals to keep the population of horses and sheep at a level the habitat will support. The island is managed as a primitive area and overnight camping, firepits and pets are not allowed. Groups of 15 or more must get a permit, and a state-tribal fishing license is required from the Flathead Indian Reservation.

The state has six sites it recommends for public boat landings: Skeeko Bay, Eagle Cove, Rocky Bar, Driftwood Point, Osprey Cove and East Shores. All the docks are privately owned. There are 52 private, circle-shaped lots on the island. There is a public, unisex solar-powered composting toilet at Skeeko Bay.

MORE>>>The Prairie Star

Angela Jamison is a native Montanan and she grew up in beautiful Bozeman. I'm the mother of two girls and write a blog about our life here and taking in the simple pleasures of family and food.

Sweet Pea Festival has long been a beloved Bozeman tradition.  It is one I didn’t experience until later on in my childhood.  My parents weren’t into this type of thing therefore it wasn’t until friends introduced Sweet Pea to me that I realized what it was all about.  They had me at Tater Pit.  I loved everything about it.  Running around with friends without parents because they knew we were mostly contained to Lindley Park.  Not paying much attention to the arts around us, it was more about following around boys in the way 12 year old girls do.     This continued on through high school and it wasn’t until my college years I realized what Sweet Pea was actually about.  The music, the performers and the creativity around us.  It became a place to meet up with old friends and catch up.  When I started my own family it was natural to load the stroller on the first weekend of August and head to the festivities.  Of course, as often is the case with children, this changed things.  No longer the care free running around or closing the festival down at night.  It suddenly felt harder…holding a baby in the heat, waiting in lines for food and wanting to get home before the traffic got bad.  We took a couple years off from Sweet Pea, choosing instead to leave town on this busy weekend and head to the solitude of the mountains with our babies.  Three years ago, the girls at easier ages, we decided it was time to properly introduce them to the Sweet Pea Festival.  However, things had changed again because now there was a new festival in town.

I first heard about SLAM from a friend while at the Sweet Pea parade that year.  As she explained SLAM I instantly felt protective of the long standing festival I had loved since childhood.  I didn’t understand why anyone would try to compete with such a wonderful celebration of the arts.  Because I went in defensive mode I didn’t take the time to find out what it was all about.  I didn’t like it.  Even the name felt harsh and negative…a direct insult to Sweet Pea.  I didn’t bother to find out what S.L.A.M actually stood for.  We said good bye and made our way to Lindley while they headed to Bogert.  We soaked up Sweet Pea with our kids and loved them getting to experience it.  There was chatter amongst festival goers about the other one in town.  Lots of conversations of which was better, people taking sides.  This first year I was definitely Pro-Sweet Pea. 

Year two of SLAM versus Sweet Pea shifted for me.  I learned more about this newer festival and became interested as I found out it was about supporting local artists and musicians.  I realized many of those who were brought to Sweet Pea weren’t local.  I had mixed feelings about this.  As a Montana girl I love the idea of all things local, but also think it’s great that a festival can bring artists from around the world.  I decided it was worth finding out by actual experience.  For the first time we didn’t go to Sweet Pea, but instead made our way to this small festival at Bogert Park.  I was pleasantly surprised by this low-key event.  It was on a smaller scale, but I dug the vibe.  I liked that everyone on stage or selling their goods was from around here and love this community as much as I do.  And as a family on a budget I loved that it was a free event.  Knowing many people who couldn’t afford the pricey wristband prices of Sweet Pea could still come out for this event.  Year two I was definitely Pro-SLAM.

This year was the third year of SLAM.  Having experienced both I found myself torn between the two festivals.  The happy memories from childhood pulling me towards Sweet Pea, but the older version of me knowing SLAM felt more like us.  Always feeling slightly like I was betraying Sweet Pea if we didn’t make an appearance.  Thoughts of doing both as so many do…hopping from one park to the next soaking up all the wonderful things each festival has to offer.  In the end we stuck with SLAM and saw in its third year it has grown yet again and is finding a comfortable position in our communities tradition.  I know Sweet Pea will be in our future again and I will always hold it close to my heart.  No longer does it feel as if they are completing against one another, but rather complementing each other in our ever growing town.  And this is a wonderful thing indeed. 

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.

A few weeks ago my fiancé, Andy, and I attended a wedding at BruMar Estates near Big Fork. It was a gorgeous Montana wedding complete with kettle corn, huckleberry layered cake and glittery mason jars filled with baby’s breath. As much as I enjoyed myself, I found myself wanting to flee the wedding early to return to the little bed and breakfast we made reservations to stay at that night.

When Andy and first looked at places to stay for the wedding, we decided we didn’t want to make the late-night drive into either Big Fork or Kalispell after the festivities concluded. Then Andy called me one day to say he’d found a cute little bed and breakfast in the Swan Lake area. I was skeptical of the idea at first and worried that it would end up being a bunch of little shacks in the woods with no running water or electricity. I didn’t particularly feel like trying to doll myself up for an elegant affair in such conditions. But he was so adamant that it looked like a nice place to stay that I agreed to him booking the reservation.

A few weeks later we found ourselves driving through the Swan River Valley looking for the Laughing Horse Lodge. We pulled up to a two-story log building that was the main lodge. There was a whiteboard leaned up on the front steps that had all of that day’s guests listed on it for self-check in. We found our names listed next to our room number and then pulled the car around back to find our room.

We walked through a small garden area to get to our rooms. Tables and chairs were set up throughout for lounging and socializing with other guests during the day. The owner’s three golden retrievers lay sprawled out in the sunshine. They were so comfy that even the arrival of new faces to the lodge couldn’t rouse them. When we opened the door to our room, we were greeted by two log beds covered in colorful heart embroidered quilts. The wood floors and walls shone with a caramel hue and western themed photos adorned the walls. A narrow bookshelf hung on the wall between the two beds with a selection of books, including the complete works of William Shakespeare, to peruse. It was the perfect cabin abode.

The morning after the wedding, Andy and I headed over to the main lodge building for the complimentary breakfast offered.  We were both shocked and delighted to walk inside and be greeted by a cheerful “good morning” from the owner’s cockatoo perched on a limb. We sat down at the table and picked up a menu to see what our options were. There were three tempting delicacies to choose from but Andy and I settled on the peach and huckleberry pancakes that came with your choice of eggs  and either sausage links or bacon. Let’s just say I was in sheer heaven!

I can’t begin to count how many times in my life I’ve so carelessly driven past the Laughing Horse Lodge without giving it a second glance. We only spent one night there, but I was truly grateful Andy discovered this little treasure in the Swan. What it lacked in cable television it made up for in furry and feathery roommates, delicious food, and a rustic coziness that warms your soul.

Aware of an incident just two days earlier where a Texas man shot and likely wounded a bear that he said charged him in Glacier National Park, Kalispell photographer Philip Granrud carefully chose the picture he posted on social media this week.

It shows a separate grizzly-human encounter he – and dozens of other people – witnessed near Logan Pass Monday evening.

The picture is plenty dramatic.

In a frame that otherwise shows mostly sheer cliffs, you can make out a grizzly walking on the park’s Highline Trail at the trail’s most precarious spot, where rock walls shoot dizzyingly above on one side, and fall almost straight down on the other for about a quarter-mile stretch.

MORE>>>The Missoulian