Life on the High Line

We are spending our last night in Montana tonight. Because we have stayed with so many local people we have been treated to a glimpse of life along the "High Line". I thought the High Line only referred to the rail road which runs along the Northern most route of the US. I learned from George Draper that the High Line also refers to all the towns and communities which have grown up along the route.

The towns developed as the railroad was built. This is why many churches along our route are now celebrating their 100 year anniversaries. First the men came to raise cattle and homestead. Then, the women came to organize the churches and communities.

We have been traveling through so much open space. But, there is a price to pay for enjoying all this wide open country. Towns were originally about 4 miles apart. Now the major towns are approximately 50 miles apart. The major towns where we stay are probably less than 200 people.

We are told that for any major medical visits people need to travel to Billings, MT which for some is 440 miles ONE WAY. This means a doctor visit requires an overnight in a motel. People also travel that far to find a major store like Costco or Walmart. The local towns have a small grocery store or even an Albertsons. But, the prices are quite high because there is no competition.

The clergymen we have met: Father Jim, Susan Watterson and George Draper all travel between two or three churches. These churches have small congregations of less than 20 people who are predominantly retirees. They may travel upwards of 100 to 300 miles on a Sunday to serve these communities. With few opportunities for young people, many of these towns are shrinking.

However, we have been presented with such a generosity of spirit in every town we have visited. If people here are worried about their way of life, we have not seen evidence of it. My impression, coming from such a large metropolitan area like Los Angeles is that the people here have such a refreshing lack of cynicism. The librarian here in Culbertson, Karen was enthusiastically sharing with us about how the town is building a new library. They were denied the grants they applied for, so over the years the townpeople have worked to raise the money themselves. They have the land and have begun to construct the building. It will replace the present one which welcomes Karen, during the summer months with live bats when she opens in the morning. Yes, it's time to move on and Culbertson is not waiting for someone else to come to the rescue.

Tomorrow we will cross into Central Time when we arrive in North Dakota.