This little guy came up to me as I was photographing in Chester, MT and followed me around for 20 minutes.

The decision to call this area the “Great Plains” is an interesting one.

As a noun, the word “plain” describes any area of land not significantly higher than its adjacent land. And it’s true; the landscape here in northern Montana is rather flat and unassuming. But as an adjective the word “plain” also means “ordinary, simple, and undistinguished. I’m sorry, but I see it as anything but plain.

Sure, a drive down Highway 2 can be long. So far I have driven 300 miles of Highway 2 from Wolf Point to Shelby–several times. I am still unfamiliar with Montana, so I find myself playing Connect the Dots in my mind as I drive through the small, sleepy towns along the way. Oswego, Nashua, Glasgow, Vandalia, Saco, Malta, Savoy, Harlem, Chinook, Kremlin, Gildford, Hingham, Inverness, Joplin, Chester, Galata, and Dunkirk. Few have a population of more than a couple hundred, but every town has an interesting story (or two) and interesting sites to photograph.

I assume it was called the Great Plains by Lewis & Clark when they first explored the territory along the Missouri River. I’m sure they also saw magnificent mountains, bottomless canyons, and raging rivers along the way, so I suppose it is fitting to call this rather nondescript landscape “plain.” But it stretches across the northern United States for thousands of miles, so the attribute “great” also seems appropriate.

The western Great Plains, which abuts the Rocky Mountains to its east, is quite simply our version of the African Serengeti. There aren’t any elephants, lions, and giraffes roaming the plains, but it is abundant with wildlife. Especially in the spring. As the snows melt and the land thaws, wildlife is in motion all along the Hi-Line. Mule deer, pronghorn antelope, white-tailed jack rabbits, geese, owls, pheasants, and many, many other animals are easily seen from the comfort of your vehicle as you drive along Highway 2. My head is constantly sweeping from left-to-right as I scan the road in front of me for potential hazards (and photo opportunities).

Everyone here says you should not to swerve to avoid hitting an animal in the middle of the road. They say it is safer to take your foot off of the gas, plow through, and hope for the best. It seems to be good advice, but it kills me inside any time I hit an animal when driving. I’m here to photograph natural beauty; not kill it.

One of the most common animals around here is the northern pocket gopher ground squirrel. I first saw them this week while driving back from Shelby. After a particularly harsh winter in these parts the northern pocket gopher ground squirrel is just now starting to emerge from its den underground . At first I only saw a few of them. Now, it seems,they are everywhere.

They are cute, little, fuzzy animals, which remind me of the dramatic chipmunk on YouTube. When you fly past one on the side of the road, I swear, they shoot you the same look.

They aren’t very bright, either. From Shelby to Havre I swear a hundred or more darted across the road in front of me. One of the first gophers ground squirrels I met on Highway 2 ran right in front of my truck. I had no time to react so I just closed my eyes and tried to straddle him with my truck. I opened my eyes, and looked in the rear view mirror, only to see him tumbling down the road after getting hit with the backwash of air from the back of my truck. A few seconds later he picked himself up and ran away. Lucky guy.

For the most part I have been able to avoid hitting the gophers ground squirrels who try to play chicken with me and my 5000 lbs. truck. But I have hit two or three. And  every time it happens I feel badly.

Steve (the cat) probably wouldn’t be happy with me either. If he ever gets loose I and is stupid enough to stand in the middle of the road I hope someone else will have the decency to swerve and not hit him.

I guess the northern pocket gopher’s ground squirrel’s behavior is a bit analogous to my life at the moment. At times I feel like I too am darting across a busy highway (though Highway 2 isn’t really all that busy) hoping to avoid the next large, dark mass trying to plow through me.

Then again, I never found the middle of the road a good place to be.