Wind in Montana

Trapper

Author, Writer, Photographer
#1
I did a search and found this story I wrote here five years ago. I thought it was worth a revival.

The wind is really howling here today. It means more beetle killed trees will get blown down and I'll have more widow-makers to deal with on my property.

It reminded me of a time I was in Las Vegas.

I took a seat at the Blackjack table with two men from Texas. They were loudly declaring that Texas was the best of everything and not much paying attention to the game. I was doing pretty well and in the first 30 minutes I was up over $500.

Through the haze of brown liquor, they finally noticed their stack of chips was getting smaller and mine was getting bigger. One guy looked at me like he was surprised by my presence. He looked me over from my scuffed and dusty packers to my cowboy hat. I wasn't sure if he was just curious or looking for a date.

I drew an ace/queen on a $50 bet. The dealer took my cards and gave me three $25 chips.

The Texan blurted out, "You a cowboy?" He looked at the cards in front of him as the dealer waited patiently for him to decide if he wanted a card. He scratched his down card asking for a hit on his 18. The dealer was showing a 5. Not a smart move. He got a 10 and busted. The dealer scooped up his $100 chip and cards, then turned to the other Texan.

I turned to him, "Nah, real cowboys wear crocs or tennis shoes."

"So, where you from?" he was having trouble staying vertical on his chair and his buddy reached over to steady him.

"Montana," I replied, moving my winnings to my stack and putting a tip out for the dealer.

His much less drunk buddy chimed in. "Montana, huh. I heard it gets a bit breezy up there, but nothing like the wind in Texas."

"That right?" I asked not really looking for a reply. The dealer dealt me a pair of aces and was again showing a 5 up card. I split my aces and put two $25 chips on the second one. The dealer showed me each of the cards he put down on my aces - one face card, one 9.

The drunk took the advice of his buddy and waved off the dealer on his pair of 10s. The less drunk guy stayed.

The dealer flipped over his down card and it was a 6. Ouch, 11 for the dealer put my $100 in jeopardy. He turned over a 5. Whew, 16. He hit that with a face card. Busted. I pulled the seat I was clinching with my ass cheeks out and exhaled.

"Just how windy does it get in Montana?" half drunk guys asks.

With my shaking hand I stack my $100 winnings along with my extra $50 and stuck with my $50 bet telling myself, it can't last forever, and when it turns sour, I'll head up to my room instead of giving it all back to Harrahs.

The game is interrupted. The dealer steps aside as the pit boss and a bald security guy puts a plastic guarded box full of chips on the blackjack table. The security guy looks like an oak tree with arms. I'm impressed. Then I see the 9mm Glock in his holster. What a weenie.

I turn to the Texans while the guys count the tray and do paper work. "I'll tell you how windy it gets in Montana. I was out riding my mare one day and it really started blowing. We stopped on a ridge to check out the oncoming snow squall headed our way. She had her ass to the wind when she raised her tail to fart."

I looked down and shook my head.

Raising my head I looked 'em in the eye. "That wind blew the bit clean out of her mouth!"
 

Trapper

Author, Writer, Photographer
#5
What are widow-makers in the sense you are using it?
Trees like this one are very challenging. Getting them on the ground when they are hung on other trees is tough because often you don’t know what they will do when you put a saw to them. They might break off at the top and come down on you. You can’t safely climb the dead tree to rope it. Putting them on the ground can hurt or kill. Thus the term “widow maker”.

5696E7A2-3A0C-44CF-AE9C-1D45BE97A3FB.jpeg
 

_WW_

Geriatric Skagit Swinger
#7
Montana rancher in the bar tells his new Texas friend that when he leaves his house at 10 am he doesn't get off his property until 1:30.
The Texan relates that when he leaves his hacienda in his truck he doesn't get off his property until 2:15.
Montana takes a swig of beer and replies, "You know, I use to have a truck like that."
 

creekx

spent spinner
#8
We were fishing ice-out on the Blackfeet Indian Res. in April many years ago. My friend was driving his van along the shore, scouting the water. When he stopped to check out a spot - facing downwind - his buddy opened the passenger door and the wind ripped it right off the hinges!
 

Jim Wallace

Smells like low tide.
#9
Say, this thread and another one got me to thimkin about a combination wind-and-bear fence on wheels. I suppose that I should try to find a truck like that!;)
 

up2nogood

Active Member
#10
We were fishing ice-out on the Blackfeet Indian Res. in April many years ago. My friend was driving his van along the shore, scouting the water. When he stopped to check out a spot - facing downwind - his buddy opened the passenger door and the wind ripped it right off the hinges!
Would that have been Mission ,or Kipp ?
 

Trapper

Author, Writer, Photographer
#11
I was doing a 2-boat guide trip on the Missouri River several years ago. It was really howling. Even good casters have trouble casting from a driftboat in high winds. My fellow guide and I had beached our boats to let our guys wade fish for a while and give our arms and backs a rest.

Dave tied on new flies for one of the guys and then we pushed our boats off the gravel and back into the current and wind. He liked to use these really big Hobby Lobby craft boxes for his flies. He had two open when we pushed off.

You know what happened don’t you?

Yep, the wind lifted both boxes out of his boat, flipped them both over in broken water, and scattered over two hundred flies, including beaded nymphs over a very large area. He recovered about four. He was more than a little pissed.
 

creekx

spent spinner
#13
I was doing a 2-boat guide trip on the Missouri River several years ago. It was really howling. Even good casters have trouble casting from a driftboat in high winds. My fellow guide and I had beached our boats to let our guys wade fish for a while and give our arms and backs a rest.

Dave tied on new flies for one of the guys and then we pushed our boats off the gravel and back into the current and wind. He liked to use these really big Hobby Lobby craft boxes for his flies. He had two open when we pushed off.

You know what happened don’t you?

Yep, the wind lifted both boxes out of his boat, flipped them both over in broken water, and scattered over two hundred flies, including beaded nymphs over a very large area. He recovered about four. He was more than a little pissed.
Well, which ones did the trout eat? Taste test!