The heat bore down upon us. Grasshoppers buzzed as they flicked back and forth, from trail to tall grass and back again. A tractor trailer blared along the highway off in the distance. Pompeys Pillar stood tall and foreboding in front of us.
I woke to a message from Ben: I’m going for a walk over to the other side of the railway, message me on WhatsApp and I can location share if you want to meet up. I don’t know the code for the door btw. The time was, roughly 0700 and I wasn’t keen on getting out of bed just yet. Yesterday’s flight was among the less enjoyable I have so far experienced — not quite as bad as the haul to Japan, not quite as exciting as crashing the small passenger plane. A total of six hours in the air to get from Philadelphia to Bozeman is a ridiculous amount of time, especially given there was no traffic and the WiFi offered cost $14 per hour. No thanks.
I messaged Ben back, told him I’d meet him in town, and stumbled my way out of bed.
A mango smoothie and a blueberry cremé muffin at a small café did the trick to help me wake up. The vibe of this place was unlike most anything I had experienced. A pillow in the shape of a sizeable fish was encased in syran wrap, much like an actual fish would be when purchased at the supermarket. A coffee mug on the counter read: Your 3-star review is bullshit. A sign at the door mentioned taking “a damned menu” and seating yourself. I’ll certainly be back.
Pompeys Pillar National Monument sits between the Yellowstone River and I-94, not more than forty minutes from Billings, Montana. The primary reason to visit this sandstone formation is to see the various petroglyphs and etchings that have been carved into the surface over the last eleven-thousand years or so. Most famous among the carvings is the signature of Captain William Clark, of the Lewis and Clark Expedition.
To be fair, the light and weather conditions weren’t ideal for photography. The photographs you see here are about the best I could manage, which isn’t saying much, I don’t think. Perhaps if I run them through AI, I can come away with something usable.
When I walked up the stairs to see Clark’s signature, I found the security cameras pointed toward the sandstone to be amusing. Here we are, looking at an etching done by someone hundreds of years ago that is now encased in glass, while simultaneously surveying the area in an attempt to prevent others from doing the exact same. It just goes to show that, not only are we hypocritical creatures, we have always allowed the famous to get away with things that would otherwise be punished.
We ended the long day of driving by photographing a few abandoned structures around the small town of Columbus, MT. A van adorned with dried flowers; an old car being given life by artificial light; a mechanic shop with two solitary lights on, illuminating the mess that is the inside.
I have no idea what is planned for tomorrow. All I know is that it is very late, and I desperately need sleep after all of today’s driving.
— C