In Montana, the weather is like a teenage girl. Happy and bright one second, fitful and tempestuous the next. Today, on our little island beneath the Crazy Mountains, the weather is a snotty, cold little bitch. Bitch in the form of dropping temperatures and wet, sticky snow. Here on the ranch the weather makes itself known in the form is snow capped hills and muddy footprints.
Being the good Montana daughter that I am, I pray for moisture. Moisture in the form of rain, snow, sleet, mountain snow, etc. Spring storms in Montana can come out of “nowhere”, dump six inches of snow in a few hours, and can cause whiteouts so thick is tough to see 10 feet in front of you. Most Montanans will tell you about snow in July and that our unofficial state motto is “if you don’t like the weather, wait five minutes.”
Of course, what we jaded natives don’t tell you is that under these spring flurries, under these little bitchy weather moments, is the greenest of grasses, Montana gold. Gold that feeds our cattle and acts as the first cradle as their precious calves gasp their first lungful of air. Grass that bends in the wind and dries in the fall.
So in the end, we trade the white for green. The cold smoke for green gold.