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.

Sometimes the busy chaotic-ness that often defines my life keeps me from doing the things I love most—like writing. I find myself desperately seeking out even 10 minutes to tinker away at a new article or blog post. But then life butts in and forces me to push the writing back yet another day. Last week I was feeling incredibly frustrated about just this and realized I needed to escape and find a place where I could hide out for even an hour. But where could I possibly go? I was fortunate enough to have the answer fall ever so conveniently into my lap one Wednesday morning.

My boyfriend was having a rough week so I decided to schedule him a massage at Hair Hair Salon in Helena to help him de-stress. I had taken the day off work and decided to accompany him to the salon in the hope that I might be able to squeeze in a solid hour of writing where no one could bother me. With my HP laptop crammed in my oversized purse we headed downtown to the salon.

Not long after arriving at the salon, a masseur came and whisked my boyfriend away. Although it had been several years since I’d been inside Hair Hair, I knew that they had a café attached and I asked the receptionist if I could sit in there and write. He pointed me in the right direction, and heaving my computer laden purse onto my shoulder, I was off.

Turning a corner, I strolled under a stony archway into Café Organica. I was instantly floored by the ornate beauty of the space. With a cobblestone floor, tall windows lining the south facing wall, regal looking stone statues and blue mosaic tiled lights dangling above the coffee bar, I wondered if I hadn’t taken a Narnia-like misstep and landed in Italy.

Save for a black-jacketed barista behind the bar, the café was completely vacant. “Jackpot!” I thought. I picked a tabled positioned near the center of the room and sidled right up next to one of the large windows. I sat down, pulled out my laptop and breathed a sigh of relief at having finally found a secluded spot to write.

The very jubilant barista approached me and asked if I would like something to drink. I had high hopes of getting some real writing done and felt like caffeine would only assist in that. I told her I wanted something caffeinated but that she could surprise me. A few minutes later she set a large blue mug down on my table that boasted a slight lid of foam. She told me it was a vanilla latte, which simple as it sounded, completely hit the spot in that moment.

For a solid hour I plinked away on my keyboard and managed to get a solid first draft of an article written that I’d been procrastinating on for two weeks. Every once in a while I would pause, take a sip of my latte, and bask in the light flooding through the windows. I felt nothing but gratitude for that deserted café that Wednesday morning. It delivered me the quiet solitude and peace of mind I needed to get back on track with my writing.

I always used to make fun of those “snooty” writers who sit in Starbucks all day with their laptop, seemingly pretending to be more important than they actually are. But after my morning in Café Oganica, I’m starting to rethink things. Maybe they are just the writers who discovered early on that coffee shops make an ideal place to write. Or maybe they fear sitting alone in silence with nothing but their thoughts and a blinking cursor to taunt them and thus seek to surround themselves by happy coffee drinkers. Either way, my first café writing experience was a brilliant one and I plan on visiting Café Organica again soon. Shhhhhh……don’t anyone give away my secret writing spot!

A man who was hunting for bears with his father in a remote corner of southwestern Montana had the tables turned on him when he was mauled by a bruin over the weekend, state wildlife officials said on Monday.

The 47-year-old hunter, whose identity has not been publicly released, was attacked by the bear at about 11 a.m. local time on Sunday in the mountains of Beaverhead National Forest near Dillon, about 100 miles southeast of Missoula, officials said.

The man's 68-year-old father, who was a short distance away at the time, heard a rifle shot and hurried to the location to find his son severely injured, but the bear had by then vanished, said Andrea Jones, a spokeswoman for the state Fish, Wildlife and Parks Department.

MORE>>>Reuters

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. 

Dear Montana,

First of all I want to thank you for finally welcoming spring to our valley. It was a long time coming and I very much appreciate it. Now it is time for me to apologize to you. It happens every year. During the dark cold of winter I begin to betray you sweet Montana. I begin to think of leaving for warmer climates, thinking surely there is more to life than being stuck inside for the fifth day of below zero temperatures. I know you mean well with this, moisture is needed and the skiers love you for it. You could say they have a better relationship with you. I just find it so hard to stay faithful to you. I imagine more beautiful places, more adventurous. It happens a lot when I travel and I’m sorry for that. I get caught up in the newness while visiting someplace else. I see things through honeymoon eyes…the trees seem bigger, the sky brighter, the vibe more exciting. Please remember, I always come back to you. Once back the novelty of vacation wears off I see you for your greatness. I see how the trees here are just as big and lovely. How the mountains give me a sense of contentment that I never feel anywhere else. Oh, Montana, you always remind me. And welcome me back with your big blue sky.

Occasionally I stray right within your own backyard. My heart may be firmly in Bozeman, but I get into Missoula and there I go again. I get mesmerized by the river flowing through the middle of town. I am charmed by the quirky nature of the locals and the anything goes attitude. And, they have Big Dipper ice cream and that is hard to compete with. I am not proud of this, but it’s true. But, don’t worry Bozeman…Missoula ain’t got nothing on your mountains. So I come back.

I fall back in love with you every May. By summer, our relationship is solid again. We dance our way through the warm days and into the star filled nights. Everything is fresh and new again. Things begin to get rocky when the first snow begins to fly. Maybe we should see someone about this. Or, we can keep going on this way. My ever faithful Montana, taking me back no matter how far I wander. Loving me for who I am when I can’t seem to do same. I will try harder to love you how you deserve. To see you from the perspective of those who long to be here. For now I will simply be friends with beach towns and vacation cities. They can never fully be trusted with their fancy downtowns and and flirtatious ocean waves. They are seductive, but I will stay strong.

Thank you Montana…for taking me back yet another year.

Love,

Angie

Although it is hard for born and raised Bozemanites to say it aloud, Montana’s best kept secret is not a secret any more.

It hasn’t been hard to see that Bozeman has been expanding in just about every direction; from the first pavement that was laid down on 19th about 15 years ago to the increasing variability of the people coming to live, go to school, and vacation here.

According to the Institute for Tourism and Recreation Research (ITRR), Bozeman has held an average of 350,000 tourists per year after lawmakers authorized the implementation of resort tax and lodging taxes 4 years ago. This is 100,000 more than 2010. This exponential expansion of Bozeman, and the increase in the number of those wanting to reside and visit here raises the question, how did our city become so exposed?

One could say that Bozeman was destined to be a tourist town. The city’s central location to the Yellowstone Club, Big Sky Ski Resort, Bridger Bowl, Yellowstone National Park, Montana’s largest city, Billings, and its reputation for outdoor activities makes it an inevitable tourist town. But what about the recent jump in visitor numbers? Some say the reason for this sudden increase lies in recent efforts to provide means to market for tourists and develop easier access to Bozeman.

“We have been marketing for a long time but it wasn’t until the 2009 to 2010 year that we were able to collect tax and use it for planning ways to bring tourists in,” said Daryl Schliem, the President/CEO of the Bozeman Area Chamber of Commerce.

MORE>>>Bozeman Magazine