World Gone Crazy? Run Away From It All to Montana — I Did

Escape to Montana, surround yourself in beauty, and embrace your inner cowboy. (Photo: The Ranch at Rock Creek)

While the world goes to hell in a hand-basket, it’s tempting to want to run away to the most remote corner of the country and ignore the fact that the end of civilization is nigh. That’s what I did recently, escaping from the rat race of L.A. to Montana, which is the fourth largest state in the U.S., yet with just over a million residents, ranks 48th in population.

After spending just a few days in Montana, I was tempted to move there and become a “406’er,” what locals call themselves — it’s the state’s one and only area code and a source of great pride. In Montana, there was way less fear, way less rules. Everybody keeps throwing around the F-word lately (freedom, not the other one), but I don’t think I remembered what it really meant until I got up there. There’s an old-school mentality in Montana that made me feel peaceful for the first time in a long time.

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Photo: Dibs Baer

For maximum ignorant bliss, I was staying at The Ranch at Rock Creek, the most exclusive, all-inclusive, five-star guest ranch in the state. It’s basically cowboy camp for very wealthy grownups. After being picked up by staffer Emma at baggage claim, we walked out to her S.U.V., parked nonchalantly 20 feet from the airport front door. If anyone left a car at the curb at LAX, the National Guard would pounce in five seconds and 500 flights would be cancelled. Things were clearly different in these parts.

After a postcard-picturesque 90-minute drive from Missoula International Airport to Philipsburg, we arrived at The Ranch, which sits on 6,600 stunning acres of rolling hills, dotted with cottonwood trees and surrounded by the Pintler and Sapphire Mountains. The Blue Ribbon designated Rock Creek, stocked to the gills with trout, babbled dreamily, almost like it knew I needed to post a picture to Instagram, stat. But the Montana WiFi gods made it clear that posting junk on social media was not the purpose of this trip. I put my phone away and soaked in all the crisp, fresh air.

I checked into my accommodation, the “Sara Jane Cottage,” a 2,500-square-foot, four-bedroom, four-bath log cabin that sleeps up to 12 and looks like a Ralph Lauren catalogue. Forget watching the 24-hour news cycle. I had my own National Geographic wildlife special right out the window, from the cows grazing in the backyard to eagles flying overhead. The seven private luxury houses spaced out on the property. As the story goes, one of them, the Trapper Cabin, is so secluded, a lone guest freaked out from the isolation and silence, and had to move into the Granite Lodge.

Montana’s big, starry sky (Photo: Caden Crawford/Flickr)

When I heard that story, I laughed. Then that night suddenly it wasn’t so funny — I quickly realized I was just as big of a sissy. After dancing, bowling, and slinging back shots in the Ranch’s cozy Silver Dollar Saloon, I was terrified I’d encounter a black bear on the five-minute walk home in the pitch dark. I would have Googled what to do but I couldn’t get reception. And I couldn’t remember from being in “Indian Princesses,” the only place I’d ever learned outdoorsy skills, when I was like 9 years old. So I just turned on my cellphone flashlight. But then I couldn’t even appreciate the insane amount of stars in the “Big Sky.” They are not exaggerating, by the way. The sky is endless, ever-present and enveloping, every “E” word you can think of. It’s so deep, it made me feel extremely far away from everything, which was exactly the point.

Not to go all Girls in Iowa, but the bottom line is that I was far from being a 406’er. 406’ers aren’t afraid of that endless darkness you only find in the wilderness. They’re not afraid of a stupid bear. While I’d been sitting in gray cubicles hunched over my computer writing silly little magazine stories my whole life, the wonderful locals who work at The Ranch spent their time developing real skills.

Dinner? (Photo: Thinkstock)

Christina, the Banquet Events Manager, was not only responsible for the gorgeous floral arrangements at The Ranch, just before I arrived, she actually shot a bear that was menacing the staff quarters, skinned it, and was planning on eating it, last I heard. Horse Wrangler Mindy makes beautiful Native-American-style leather belts and cuffs. My pistols instructor Matt was building his own log cabin house with his bare hands.

Yes, there are also lots of guns here, and I shot them for fun, which made me feel like a hypocrite. But they’re embedded in the fabric of the 406ers’ culture. The state has an open carry policy, meaning anyone can pretty much walk around like a Wild West cowboy, except in bars and a few other public places. In Southern California, terrorists use semi-automatics to kill innocent people and gang members use them to kill each other. In Montana, it’s just different and I cannot see how they would ever give up their Second Amendment right. I may not agree, but I certainly understand that point of view better after being there, even though all I did was shoot at a few cans and miss.

All this made it very clear I needed to get out of my comfort zone and push myself, like a 406’er. I may not be ready to eat a bear, but I did try some game, like bison and elk sausage, and I signed up for anti-city activities like hiking the Top of the World trail, fly-fishing, riding the downhill mountain bike course, and horseback riding.

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Baer and Lonesome (Photo: Dibs Baer)

Emma, turns out, is also a national champion roper (her husband Buck is a national champion bareback rider, making them the coolest and cutest couple in Montana). After a lovely guided horseback ride along the creek, Emma taught our group how to barrel race. My horse Lonesome and I did pretty well — much better than when I tried to lasso fake steer horns. Wrangler Mindy tried her best to teach me that it’s all in the wrist but it was an epic fail on my part. I could feel The Ranch’s pet sheep, Thelma and Louise, mocking me with their otherwise adorable eyes. If I was going to star in the 8 Seconds sequel, I needed much more practice. Obviously wrangling a parking spot in the crowded Trader Joe parking lot in Silverlake hadn’t exactly been the right training. I was beginning to think I’d never be a 406er.

My last activity was the challenging, 35-foot-high Ropes Course, which has 13 elevated elements like zip lines, climbing walls and rope bridges. I almost backed out when I got all the way up there. I really didn’t want to feel like a loser wimp in front of my group but I took one step out there and was paralyzed with fear. The instructor JT admitted he was scared of the telephone pole leap-of-faith, too, but jumped off it like a boss for me anyway. It was the motivation I needed — I gave it another go and completed two of the ropes challenges. I was so exhilarated and full of adrenaline, I cried a little, and wiped away the tears when nobody was looking.

Related: Wild West Smackdown: Montana vs. Wyoming

Finally a 406er? (Photo: Dibs Baer)

Finally, I felt like I had the courage and fortitude of a 406er. I was sort of a bad-ass. Relatively speaking.

I know in many ways my trip was more utopia than reality, but I fell in love with Montana. It’s not perfect, it was just voted “Worst Drivers in America” for the second year in a row, plus two of the state’s cities rank in the top 10 of the CDC’s “Drunkest Cities in America.” And there are a lot of guns. But the vibe and the people are pretty inspiring.

I may never be an actual 406’er — I suppose it’s not that simple to just pack up and move far away from my job and every single person I know and love. But the least I can do is take back the spirit of freedom and serenity I felt in Montana and channel the strength of the amazing people I met at The Ranch at Rock Creek, and keep that in mind when Wolf Blitzer tells me 60 times a day the world’s gone mad.

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