Scraping Heaven by Cindy Ross

Author:Cindy Ross
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781680510355
Publisher: Mountaineers Books

13

Anaconda–Pintler Wilderness

AUGUST 26, 1995

We need to have people who mean something to us, people to whom we can turn, knowing that being with them is coming home.

—BERNARD COOKE

It was scary to see the mining city of Butte, Montana, up close. It sits on the edge of the huge, mile-wide open Berkeley pit where metals were extracted until 1983. Now it has the distinction of being one of the nation’s largest Superfund sites, part of a federal program designed to rid our land of hazardous wastes. Our Montana friends call Butte the armpit of the West. The press calls it the ugliest city in America. At one time it was called the richest hill on earth, when it produced more than $2 billion worth of gold, silver, copper, and zinc. The hill is gone, and a crater remains. We stare at it as we travel south on the CDT from Homestake Pass. One stretch of trail remains. Bob said his good-byes after shuttling us to the trailhead. He’ll tool around in his motor home for a while before heading south to his Colorado home. Our route will first make a seventy-mile half circle around Butte before entering the Anaconda–Pintler Wilderness. For the next miles, we’ll mostly be walking roads around the city.

From our camp tonight, high above Butte, we stare at the lit-up city and mine and that strange, horrible pit. Trucks work all night long. The steady banging of machinery sounds like drums that never stop. The main pit has been filled with water, creating a toxic lake as minerals and chemicals leach into it. Any waterfowl that touches down on it dies. Sound-making devices around its rim make eerie, robotic noises that echo over the landscape to deter waterfowl. The whole place gives us the creeps. We’re looking at unfettered human greed. What a contrast to where we’ve been, Glacier National Park, and where we’re heading, the Anaconda–Pintler Wilderness.

Butte is said to be one the cheapest places to live in the West. We can understand why. Actually, Butte is a melting pot. The mine drew thousands of immigrants in search of a living wage. The labor union was strong here, making this the most militant union town in the nation. We’re eager to meet some of its residents in the days ahead.

Walking on a road is rarely much fun. It’s often in the hot sun, and dust and dried sweat stiffen your face. Gas fumes linger behind passing vehicles, and conversations revolve around how much you’d be willing to pay for ice in your water bottle. As we head into Butte on a wide dirt road, seven loose horses run back and forth at top speed. They thunder around the sage flats on each side, then cross our road and abruptly stop in front of us, curious about the llamas but nervous as hell about getting too close. When we almost reach them, they hightail it away. About this time, a man comes running out of his split-level home swinging a camera.

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