Post #6. Introduction to Sheridan, Montana

Dust rises behind my car, spreading out and obscuring the road in my rearview mirror. Far in the distance, another trail billows high in the air, hinting at another vehicle headed my way. Several horses chase each other in a pasture to my right; mud-caked black angus cows solemnly chew their cud on the left. Overhead, a northern harrier glides on silent, angled wings before diving down into the tall grasses in pursuit of its prey. No green paints this valley—only shades of dry brown, yellow, and stony grey overlaid by the brilliant blue of a cloudless sky. Dark, conifer-covered mountains emerge from yellowed fields, cutting off access to the valley from the east and west. For a Vermonter used to rolling green hills lush with vegetation, this is an alien world.

Sheridan, Montana is prime ranch country. In a town of less than 900 people, there must be thousands of cattle; the humans are certainly outnumbered here. There’s one main road running through the valley, along which rises up the tiny town with its one market, bank, gas station, school… and not a whole lot else. The rest of the roads—all packed dirt—lead off into the valley, houses becoming increasingly more sparse until a single ranch spans for miles of road.

I ended up in Sheridan because my childhood friend’s Grandpa Skip—who I’ve known pretty much my whole life—is close with the owner of a ranch there and insisted that I visit while on my trip. So, after many emails back and forth with Skip and the ranch managers, I made the drive up there from Jackson Hole. I’d had no idea what to expect, but found my 2-week stay there one of the most memorable of my journey. Though I spent all but the first and last day completely alone, I was content to explore the vast grounds and series of ranch ponds and canals—all rich with wildlife.

One of the ponds was constantly completely covered by waterfowl of all shapes and sizes. Pretty much any duck you could think of, Canada geese, and even several trumpeter swans populated the pond. To one looking from afar, it may even appear that they were not gathered on water at all, but rather packed together on land. I tried sneaking up on the resting birds a number of times—unsuccessfully—but the photos of them flying away in a panic are some of my lasting favorites.

I spent hours each day wandering the fields in search of animals to capture photos and videos of and was absolutely not disappointed. Despite the landscape appearing mostly dull and dead, it was more full of wildlife than I ever would’ve guessed. Between the face-off with a moose (from across the main pond), walking up close to a herd of white-tailed deer, and waking up every morning to a number of bird calls, I felt more surrounded by life than perhaps ever before.

One morning around 8:30 a.m., I happened to glance out the window only to find a male ring-necked pheasant sitting below a bush along the fenceline surrounding the house. About ten minutes after he flew off, I looked out the window again only to find a herd of pronghorn—a species I’d been dying to capture on camera—crossing the road directly across from the (exceptionally long) driveway. Despite it being only about 30º outside, the fact that I was wearing just shorts and a t-shirt didn’t even cross my mind. I was out the door in an instant, jumping into my car, tearing down the road to where they were, and jumping out to take photos of them. I’m sure the bearded local who drove by was left scratching his head at the antics of the crazy girl with Vermont plates.

I have more stories than I could possibly recount from this short stay, so my next few posts will all be about Sheridan. Get ready for lots of wildlife videos!