The Beartooth Cafe by Miller Chinle

Author:Miller, Chinle
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Yellow Cat Publishing
Published: 2016-12-22T00:00:00+00:00

17

Bud drove through the outskirts of Livingston, looking for the road that would take him up onto Wineglass Flats. He knew that the road had to be around here somewhere, as the most likely place to put one was on this lower end of the wide broad upland.

He worked his way along a number of rural lanes with houses having small acreages, most with horses, until he was finally on a narrow gravel road that appeared to wind upwards.

Sure enough, after a short climb, he was on the edge of Wineglass Flats, its rolling hills holding relatively new homes that looked to be expensive, many with large wooden gates with fancy metal signs engraved with names like Antelope Ranch and Buffalo Jump Ranch, even though the ranches looked to be only a couple of acres in size, more what Bud would call ranchettes.

He was soon winding his way up into the timber above the flats when he saw an old rundown log cabin next to an even older corrugated-tin Quonset hut.

The building looked like it had been painted multiple times over the years, each paint job eventually fading to reveal the one underneath, leaving the building looking like a colorful rainbow.

And like the others in the fancier development below, this place also had a big log gate, but Bud liked this sign better, which read Almosta Ranch.

He knew this was the location of the grizzly rehabilitation center, though he didn’t see any fences or shelters that looked like places for bears, just the log house and Quonset hut set in a nice stand of Douglas fir.

Bud pulled into the drive and got out, the dogs looking out the windows of the back of the Rover, curious as to where they were. He had called ahead a couple of hours previous, telling the man who ran the center that he was interested in bears and would like to come visit, if it weren’t too much trouble.

A muscular younger man, maybe in his 30s, came from the Quonset hut, greeting Bud. He had long blonde hair twisted with dreadlocks, a somewhat incongruous sight for Bud, who had expected more of a rancher type. The man wore coveralls with no shirt underneath and worn hiking boots.

“Afternoon! I’m Michael. Glad you could make it. I don’t get many visitors.”

Bud shook his hand, then replied, “Well, thanks for having me on such short notice. But where do you keep the bears?”

Michael smiled. “Everyone always asks me that. They're up the road about a quarter of a mile. There's a small meadow up there with a stream where I've built the center. It's too rocky and forested here, and I like the bears to get a little sunshine. But the main reason is that this isn’t a bear sanctuary, it’s a rehab center, and I want these bears going back into the wild without feeling overly comfortable around humans, so I try to limit contact. I’ll fire up my ATV and you can follow me.”

Bud was soon following Michael’s ATV up a narrow rutted road.

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