Word: monte
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...seven-day rail-and-road tour "In the Path of Lewis and Clark." Traveling part of the way by motor coach and the remainder aboard the American Spirit--a daylight train with refurbished passenger cars and vista domes from the late '40s and '50s--you set out from Billings, Mont., and end up near Astoria, Ore., journeying through large swaths of Lewis and Clark territory in between. You will cross the rugged Bitterroot Mountains, where the corps nearly starved; navigate the Clearwater River in canoes like those used by the expedition; stop at the Nez Perce National Historic Park...
...Linster, dinosaurs were more than a childhood fantasy. Ever since he was 10 months old, he had joined his parents and siblings on dinosaur hunts in Montana and Wyoming. In August 1994, when Wes was 14, he uncovered an almost perfectly preserved skeleton on a ranch near Choteau, Mont. Recalls Wes: "I bolted down the hill to get my mom because I knew I shouldn't be messing with...
Jackson, 54, has come a long way himself. He was born in Deer Lodge, Mont., and reared in Williston, N.D. His parents were ministers, so he became drawn to issues of spirituality at an early age. His career path, however, was secular: he was a star basketball player at the University of North Dakota and a role player (nicknamed "Action" Jackson) in the NBA, where he was a member of title-winning New York Knicks squads in 1970 and 1973. There he became close friends with teammate Bill Bradley. Indeed, Jackson was being touted as a possible head coach...
What happened to Nathan King on his 12th birthday last month could be classified as a parent's worst nightmare--except that few parents could even imagine such a freakish accident. Bursting with exuberance, the Helena, Mont., boy bounced a football off the wall of his room, dove onto his bed to retrieve it and somehow drove a No. 2 pencil through his chest and right into his heart. "I kind of felt it go in," he says, "but it didn't hurt, so I looked down. Then I started yelling, 'Mom! Mom! Mom, I'm gonna...
Becky Weed rarely lays eyes on a coyote as she goes about tending her sheep on Thirteen Mile Farm outside Belgrade, Mont. But at night in her 135-year-old house on the edge of the spread, she can clearly hear the yips and howls of the scruffy predators echoing across the meadows. Were it not for an unusual four-legged critter of her own, the coyotes would have a field day devouring her 240 ewes and lambs...