If you find yourself in Bozeman with a serious chocolate craving, might I suggest stopping by La Chatelaine, a chocolatier with French roots.  They’re located right behind the delicious Cafe Zydeco, so after enjoying some spicy chicken and sausage gumbo, a dash of chocolate may be just the ticket. 

My husband and I have stopped into this chocolatier a few times.  We would like to go often, but the prices are high.  That is not to say they are unreasonable.  One decadent square of chocolate will set you back two dollars.  Take one bite and you will understand why.  You only need one, perhaps you only need half of one. 

As Americans, we are conditioned to believe that the King Size Snickers bar is a good deal.  Eat one, and you will not feel the same satisfaction that you get after trying one of Chatelaine’s Champagne Truffles, or my personal favorite, the Meyer Lemon square.  The ingredients you can fine in their specialties include peppercorn, olive oil, lavender, rose, espresso, blood orange, and so much more.  And their chocolates are beautiful.  So beautiful in fact, that if one gets scratched, it goes into a “Blemished Chocolates” bag that you can purchase.  In the Blemished bag, you get five pieces for five dollars.  If you don’t require perfection, this is a good way to go.

I also tried their hot chocolate the other day.  Sublime.  Everyone in Bozeman and the surrounding area should try this place, at least once.

We got to spend a child free day on Labor Day, so of course Murphy dictated that it would snow in Butte, where we were staying.  I’ve seen a snowy Fourth of July parade in Butte, so this in itself wasn’t unheard of…but we had to cancel any plans for grand outdoor adventure.  Or did we?  We decided to brave the cold and take a ride over the Gravelly Range.  We were hoping to get above the clouds, and we almost did a few times, but instead of enjoying the vast expanses and views we saw a whole lot of fog.  But all was not lost!  Here are some photos of a cloudy, snowy day in the Gravelly Range.

Traffic jam near Pony, MT

Lost Cabin

Painted brick wall in Pony

Crossing a 1887 bridge over the Madison River. 

Today the Madison was gushing at near-spring runoff levels due to a malfunction in the dam over at Quake Lake.  The deep, pounding water made this bridge even more adrenaline-kicking. 

Wild Turkeys – go hide, poultry!  Don’t you know it’s opening day?

The Road into the Fog…

Good Hunting Weather – a few yards away were some hunters on opening day.

Berries

Doubtful Reservoir

Summer flowers, fall foliage, and winter snow…all in one place!

To get there:  Take Varney Road south of Ennis, look for the sign and turn right.  The road is well-maintained so you don’t need 4WD, but watch for inclement weather.

We drove to the Sweet Palace in Philipsburg, MT. 

This huge candy store contains about 900 types of candy.  Much of the caramels, chocolates and taffies that line the walls in barrels and buckets are made right there in the store.  There is also an impressive selection of candy from foreign countries.  We bought some licorice pipes from Holland and some (horrible) menthol-eucalyptus candy from jolly-old England, though I have to wonder why they are so jolly if they’re eating menthol-eucalyptus candy.  Perhaps there is a secret ingredient I am not privy to.

We were greeted by a taffy-maker when we entered the Sweet Palace.  He offered my son a piece of taffy, which was great.  Then my son was convinced that he was allowed to sample all of the candy, and he immediately went for the baskets of taffy on the shelves to “sample those, too.  After I took several minutes to explain why the first piece was free, but the rest we had to pay for, we went shopping.  My son had a great time picking the shiniest wrappers and the biggest lollipops and tossing them in the bag.  The price for all the candy was 7.99/lb no matter what you pick. 

$35 later, we left the store with a whole lot of sugary goodness.  And to think I didn’t even pick out any Jelly-Belly candies.  I love those things.  The Sweet Palace has a mind-boggling selection of Jelly-Belly too, they even had Garlic flavor! 

After we forked out the ridiculous amount of money for candy, we went across the street to the Doe Brother’s soda fountain for lunch. 

The weather was terrible and cold and rainy, otherwise we would have spent a lot more time in Philipsburg.  There is a lot to do.  Next time I want to take the family to Gem Mountain to hunt for sapphires, something I haven’t done since I was a kid. 

If you’re looking for a fun Montana road trip, I recommend Philipsburg.  Combine your stop with a drive on the Pintler Scenic Route for a full day of fun.

Today I was unsurprised to read that Bozeman was named one of America’s Dreamtowns by BizJournals.com.  Second on the list, no less (I almost wrote #2, but that has a negative connotation…especially since #2 is all over town in the form of people’s neglected dog-piles). Montana cities keep popping up on all kinds of top ten lists, presumably because all of the other states are running out of room and/or water.  I encourage the writers of the Dreamtown article to come visit in say, February.

But tonight I was riding around town on my bike, watching the pink sunset go down over a lake surrounded by cattails and tall grasses, the snow-capped Madison range off in the distance…and the crickets started chirping…ah yes.  It is a dreamtown.

We really enjoyed the National Folk Festival in Butte that recently happened.  If you get the chance, go see it next year and the year after that, before it moves on to a new city.  This was the first time in 40 years that it’s been held West of the Mississippi (I guess it was held last in Denver on this side) so who knows when it will be back.  It’s fun, family oriented, and the music and activities were top-notch. 

Butte’s uptown layout presented some challenges, there was a sidewalk leading to the Original stage that really could have used some repair.  I wondered how the older Floridians were handling the very sloping streets.  There was a handy shuttle service whisking people to and fro, so I am thinking that probably helped.  I did manage to get a few photos. 

Here is a shot from the NAIA pow-wow (not part of the NFF) that we stopped to watch.  My son loved listening to the drums.  I’m pretty sure he was ready to run out there and take part. 

Here’s a shot looking down at the “Original” stage (so named because that giant black structure is the original Butte mineframe) from Montana street

We had dinner at the Pekin Noodle Parlor.  If you are ever in Butte, do yourself a favor and try this out.  Be adventurous.  The booths are great and the waitresses can tell you some stories about them…

A sign on North Main Street.  The NFF was spread out over quite a large area, with seven stages and a shuttle service

Rahim AlHaj, a great source of Iraqi music.  I liked these guys so much I bought two of their CDs.

Some Basque dancers.  I wasn’t too crazy about these guys…the dancing was great but the music was a little “screechy” for me.  Still, there was plenty to see. 

The food area near the Original stage.

Shamekia Copeland had a lot of fans there.  Now I didn’t know a thing about her before the NFF but her performance really blew me away on Saturday night.  A great blues lady. 

The weather was perfect and the night was gorgeous.  I can’t wait until next year!

So instead of American Express sending me a bill, this time I got a credit.  That’s right…big company owes ME money, a cool $120, give or take some change.  Of course they don’t send you a check, though.  You have to call and ask for a refund.  But I’m not giving up free money just because I hate talking on the phone.  Oh no.  I dialed that 800 number, pressed several buttons, spoke to some machines that didn’t understand me, the whole bit.  Finally I got a very nice lady on the phone.  Very nice.  I noticed that she was a real person and I just love talking to real people, when you can get them, from the customer service department, that have brains. 

Anyway, she was happy to process my refund.  Did I need to update my address?

“Why yes,” I said.  “We just moved to Montana.”  I spelled out the street, gave her the zip code.  “Montana, that’s M-T.”

“Huh,” she said.  “Montana.  I don’t think I’ve ever talked with anyone from Montana before.  Where is Montana anyway?”

Silence from my end.  I wasn’t sure if she was serious.

“Where is Montana?”  She asked again.  Shit.  Are you kidding me?

“Um, North,” I said.  “It’s pretty much north.”

“It must be a small state,” she said.  “I can’t even think of where it would be on a map.”

I wasn’t going to say a thing, until…

“Is it a small state, then?”

“Well, no…”

“Really?”

“It’s actually the fourth biggest state.”

“Ohhhh…” she said, deflated. 

“But it has a small amount of people?” I said quickly.

“Oh, okay,” she said, happy and intelligent once again. 

My refund should be here between 1 and 2 weeks.

Our Fourth of July tradition is to spend the holiday in Butte, Montana, where fireworks are going up no matter what, and where you can always count on a good (albeit long) parade.  Did I ever talk about Butte’s fireworks before?  The people who run parades and whatnot for the whole town (think Fun Committee on a large scale) is called Butte Celebrations.  A few years back, someone at Butte Celebrations got caught stealing all the money.  I think the correct criminal term is “embezzled.”  After an investigation, I think the alleged crime was reduced to “mishandled funds.”  Either way, the upcoming Fourth of July was in danger of being as poppin’ as a wet cigarette. 

Butte is a town that likes it’s explosives, and a grassroots effort came together to ensure that the fireworks money would be there.  Though you can drive down almost any street in Butte and see roofs in dire need of repair, siding that is holding on with bubble gum and duct tape, and the casinos are full of white-haired ladies puffing on menthols, the town managed to raise $70,000 in about a week to ensure that the show would go on. 

Perhaps this kind of spirit is what led Barack Obama to spend the Fourth of July in Butte this year.  Now I’m not sure who I am voting for this year…in fact, I am tempted to join in Cherikooka’s wily idea:  write in Chuck Norris.  But having Obama in Butte added a little something to the holiday. 

Have you noticed that it’s impossible to turn on the television without seeing a Barack ad?  The man has money.  I do appreciate his commercials though, for he does not mudsling, badmouth, drag people through the dirt.  His clean campaign tactics ba-ROCK if you ask me.  Anyway, my son has started yelling out “BARACKOBAMA” at the most inopportune times.  Sometimes he shortens it to a quicker “ROCKOBAMA!”  This phrase comes up, out of the blue, in places like:

• My team picnic amongst a bunch of coworkers, who now look at me like I’m a democrat
• The grocery store
• My mom’s house (She’s voting for McCain)
• At preschool

So when we told 3 1/2 year old AJ that Rockobama was going to be in Butte’s parade, he jumped up and down like we were going to Chuck E Cheese. 

Long story short:  after 2 hours of cheesy floats, local politicians, line dancers, and the annual Pirate Bus, we all got to shake Mr. Obama’s hand.  And AJ got a photo with him:

Now where is this Rockobama? I hope its like a sparkler.

Excuse me sir...move. I need to see the Rockobama.

B. Obama said: Hey buddy...how ya doing?

Mom...I thought you said a Rockobama would be here!

Though I think that AJ was a bit disappointed (THAT was a Rockobama?!), he will someday appreciate this photo.  Especially if it someday it is a picture with President Rockobama.

I am excited about spending the Fourth in Butte.  It might be the last best small town to celebrate it.  Check out what a fellow blogger has to say about Independence Day in the Mining City, comparing it to Mayberry.  Not a bad assessment! 

To add fire to the bottle rockets, Barack Obama is spending his holiday in Butte, too.  Someone must have told him how much fun it is.  This news has generated a lot of fury and excitement in the comment section of the Montana Standard.  I for one am thrilled.  At the moment I don’t identify with Democrats OR Republicans.  I’m starting to feel more like a Demuplican, or perhaps some flavor of Republicrat.  Either way, this is big stuff for my hometown, and you can bet I’m going to be clamoring for a sighting of the man.  That is, if he isn’t completely blocked off with CNN cameras and secret service MIBs. 

Let me assure you though, that the biggest issue that Butte will have with Mr. Obama’s visit will not be whether or not he’s demonizing Christianity, secretly a Muslim, or <insert Obama flaw you read about online here>.  The BIG issue will be that due to security protocol, Butte-ians are banned from parking on Harrison Avenue in certain stretches of the parade route.  Oh, heavens.

You see, part of the allure of the Fourth in Mayberry Butte is that people park their rigs and trailers, assemble their bleachers, set up their favorite seating along Harrison Avenue every year, thus marking their terrority. Every Butte family has a ”parade spot.”  If you want to meet so-and-so, they will always be found in front of Arby’s, or the Met, or the biker bar, year after year without fail.  And now the Secret Service is putting the kibosh on this practice.  You just can’t get away with this, people.  Not even if you have the whole government backing you.  Not in Butte. 

So my mom called me, laughing, to inform me that people are setting up their trucks and trailers anyway.  Yes they said that these people will be towed.  I somehow am guessing that there is strength in numbers, and that the residents of Butte who will claim a spot will greatly outnumber the dudes with tow trucks. 

My guess is that the morning of the parade, the SS will determine that Harrison Avenue is unsafe (sheesh I could have told you that and saved a LOT of taxpayer money) for a presidential candidate to mozy on down.  I say, put him in Gilboy’s tow truck’s front seat and have him wave out the side.  Or better yet, the pirate bus.  Or hey, he can ride in one of the Shriner’s mini-cars.

Yeah, you Butte people know what I’m talking about.   

The evenings here in Bozeman have been great for bike rides.  I stopped on the side of a road to take a picture of thad Madison Range in the late afternoon (8 PM+). 

Ah, the serenity, the peace!  I really needed it, because later that evening, just as I was settling into blissful sleep…

BAM!

Oh yes.  FIreworks season are upon us.  Bozeman has some pretty rigid fireworks policies, according to the letter of the law.  You get about 24 hours to shoot them off.  However our close neighbors do not seem to care.  I wouldn’t particularly care either, except that I have a five month old who is already having a horrible time getting to sleep due to teething and other baby maladies.  So when she gets jarred awake from the M-80s they are firing off, I get pretty pissed off.  Is it wrong that part of me hopes they blow their fingers off?  Nah.

I’m very excited for the upcoming National Folk Festival.  Besides the fact that it looks like a lot of fun, good music, and tasty treats, it’s taking place in my hometown of Butte Montana.  Now I am not sure what you’ve heard about Butte, but it’s quickly becoming Montana’s Festival City (if it can’t claim that title already.) 

The folks in Butte just know how to have a good time and throw a good party.  I believe it all started with it’s legendary St. Patrick’s Day celebrations.  From there, the An-Ri-Ra Irish festival evolved.  Evel Knievel Days winds up July with a bang…or perhaps with a flaming lunatic. 

Even the Fourth of July celebrations beat every place that I’ve ever been, including Washington D.C.  D.C. puts on a great fireworks show to be certain, but it’s hard to replicate Butte’s scampering children, cheering spectators, honking horns, old men in flag pants, delightful kettle corn, bagpipers, and every other celebration item required by a town in the 1950′s.  You can still light bottle rockets in Butte all night long.