Column: Making it in Missoula
Ultimate, Yonder Mountain and Beer: An Average Missoula Hump Day
By Big Sis, 4-13-07
As I was reading Bob Wire’s most recent prose, Beer and Music: Could There Be a Connection? I realized that I, too, had to write about beer. Ah, beer. Maybe I’m so enamored with beer right now because it’s Friday, or because it’s a sunny spring day, or because I just bought my very-own homebrew kit.
And that’s exactly my point—here in Missoula, any reason is a good reason to be enamored with beer.
This point was perfectly illustrated when I participated this Wednesday in the otherwise-unrelated activities of Ultimate Frisbee and the Yonder Mountain String Band show—both of which prominently featured beer. My Wednesday doings also had in common a large amount of aerobic activity (the frenetic boogie-down to the bluegrass was both impressive and terrifying).
Now, most people in the world probably don’t couple strenuous aerobic activity with heavy beer-drinking. But Montanans—and Missoulians in particular—are special people. Super-evolved people. Talented, multi-tasking people—especially when one of the tasks involves drinking. I’ve never lived anywhere else where sports teams drink PBR at half-time instead of water…after hanging out at a local brewery to first prepare for the game.
I hereby issue this challenge: an average Missoulian can out-drink most anyone, especially out-of-staters. We celebrate beer, wine, gin and tonics and whiskey with gusto and almost religious fervency. My awareness of our stellar drinking ability was renewed last weekend by a friend visiting from Santa Fe. He made several awe-struck comments like:
“You always drink beer on Monday afternoons?”
“How is it possible that there’s no leftover beer in the fridge when all 30 people that came to your barbeque brought their own personal six-pack or growler?”
“I don’t know anyone in Santa Fe that meets for beers right after yoga class...doesn’t that sort of cancel out the whole health and meditation thing?”
Hhmm. I always thought healthy meditation was dependent on beer. I certainly depended on beer Wednesday after work, while trying to psych myself up for my first-ever Ultimate Frisbee game. Thus my decision to stop—in full regalia of black lycra dance pants and dorky “I’ve never played Frisbee before” bright white cleats—for a pint before the game.
“But will I be able to run after drinking a beer?” I asked a friend at the bar. Folks nearby laughed heartily at such a silly question.
“I always drink a couple beers before soccer,” said someone in the group.
“I think beer makes me run faster. Especially from the cops,” said another. Okay, then.
Why, you might ask, did I need meditative beer before a simple Frisbee game? Here’s why: I’ve never been a team sport kinda gal. I grew up taking hula classes, writing really creative poems about rocks, and avoiding all types of group activities where I might be held accountable for dropping balls, running to the wrong goal, or otherwise f@*%ing up the game for others. I did play a mediocre, completely independent game of tennis for my high school team, though.
Anyhow, I somehow decided it would be a good idea, after a bit of peer pressuring, to sign up for Missoula’s Ultimate spring league. I naively thought it involved a bit of running and some carefree Frisbee-tossing. Ha ha!
You don’t even SAY the word “Frisbee” unless you’re a complete numskull novice. “Disc” (the correct terminology) involves complex and incomprehensible strategic planning. For instance, the sentence I heard as we lined up for the first play—if it’s even called a play—sounded something like this: “Ok, let’s force Mexico, then go for a deep stack and a swing huck, and get right on the cup at the turn.”
And I thought I understood English fairly well. I was immediately confused, panicked, and incompetent—which forced me to sprint spastically around the field for the next two hours in order to pretend I wasn’t any of those things. When not focusing on my burning legs, lungs, and buttock muscles, I wondered helplessly what we, a small rag-tag team of PBR-soaked, baby-blue-shirt-wearing Missoulians were going to force Mexico to do.
The point, however (yes, there was a point, way back at the beginning), is that I’ll be going back next week not to regain my pride or prove anything. Nope. I’m going back because my team captain arrives on the field rolling a full cooler of beer behind him. A natural leader, that one.
Directly after my preparatory after-work pint, spastic sprints, and PBR-at-halftime experience, I attended my first (and probably last) Yonder Mountain String Band performance at the Wilma. This involved yet more beer, as I had to erase the burning pain in my buttocks and my burning embarrassment at my “disc” performance. I also had to beer-up to prepare for the wave of jam-band joysters who filled the Wilma with the classic concert aromas of sandalwood, marijuana smoke, unwashed dreadlocks, and, yes, spilled beer.
After a few Double Haul IPAs and Kokanees, I got my own jam on and enjoyed the show. But, while bluegrass is intriguing in a feverish-note-picking-four-part-harmony-jumping-hippies sort of way, I just really prefer a good solid drumbeat—sorry all you YMSB followers. Maybe next time I just need more beer.
So, Missoulians—what’s your favorite excuse to pull out a PBR?
Find more stories about beer, life, and love in the Garden City by visiting www.newwest.net/makingit
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The thing is, you stumbled on a sport that celebrates partying and having a good time just as much as winning. Having played in multiple cities, I can say that beer consumption, before, during and after games is the norm. At ultimate tournaments winning the party (which involves many drinking games, costumes, and random nudity) is just as high of an honor as winning the tournament. Look forward to seeing you out there.
Guys in missoula should be laid-back fisherman who snowboard and back-country ski, they major in forestry, own dogs named bridger or pike, and practice their balancing on the slack-line in the front yard over some refer and home-brew, because that's just how 'laid back,' the town is.
Girls wear pretty hippy dresses, sandals, tank tops, and let their hair blow in the wind as they peddle their classic cruiser bikes over the higgins bridge on the way to the Saturday Market to get some natural veggies before breakfast at the OP.
These stereotypes over-simplify missoula, and give everyone the impression that they have to fit-into this missoula stereotype or else they're not really hip to the missoula scene.
Again, this is a well-written piece, it's just annoying that these stories get recycled over and over and over again in OUTSIDE MISSOULA, the MISSOULA INDEPENDENT, and in NEWWEST. I think writers who are originally from the area will find that the missoula scene is much more intricate, complex, and politically diverse than these conventional stories can capture; there's no subtlety to these pieces.
There's a reason the rest of Montana views Missoula as the slacker/stoner 2nd cousin to the rest of the state. Missoula is as eager and self-centered as a puppy and just as stupid.
Like they say east of Billings, "It's like someone grabbed Montana by the North Dakota border and shook it. All the weird people managed to grab and hang on at Missoula."
Extremely well-said. I really like that quote from east of Billings, too. Part of my sarcastic tone in all of these articles is directed at myself for EXACTLY the reason you mention. I am highlighting the stereotype, and I agree it's overdone--yet still an easy (and to me, amusing) target. Therefore, I appreciate the challenge you offer to look beyond these "conventional stories" of a "lax day in Missoula."
However, I also must admit that I did go out of my bubble and my comfort zone for Ultimate. As much as it is a stereotype, perhaps, of Missoula's "essence," I was trying to break new ground, explore something new. But, I also admit that I am very much immersed in my bubble--that's why I would like to challenge you, and other folks who are "originally from the area" to either:
1) write a guest column or
2) email me ideas/recommendations about where to go and what to write about to capture "more intricate, complex, and politically diverse" stories about the Missoula scene. I'm all ears.
Big E and Mike-
Thanks for pointing out the consistency of Ultimate's party-vibe across the country. Good to know as the new girl on the field...and when visiting new cities.
-BS
I've lived in Missoula for 7 years and I've never played ultimate frisbee once. I don't own a dog, fly fish or shop at the Good Food Store that often. But I still love this place. I have many friends who do all of the above mentioned things and I don't like them any less.
Like they say east of Billings, "It's like someone grabbed Montana by the North Dakota border and shook it. All the weird people managed to grab and hang on at Missoula."
So by east of Billings you are talking about Miles City. I've spent a lot of my time the last seven years touring with my band and not once have I heard anyone east of Billings say how diverse and wonderful Billings is. I have heard hundreds of times from people in Chicago, Madison, Milwaukee, New Orleans, Dallas, San Deigo, Seattle...etc that Missoula is a wonderful town and they love to visit here. So I guess what I'm trying to stay is that I'd rather be wierd in Missoula than just plain old boring in Billings.
As for skiing, climbing, mountain biking, or fly fishing, I think you'll find that Bozeman has far more national and international recognition than Missoula. And when it comes to weirdness, friends and family visiting from Santa Cruz or Berkeley consider our little city to be nice and clean, but a bit conservative with too many fraternity/sorority types running around in Tevas and clothes extolling all things Griz.
But to give credit where it's due, the rest of my time spent in Missoula was absolutely fantastic! Sitting with a bunch of hipster indie kids on the deck at the Old Post. Flirting with the cute climber chick at the Rhino. Playing Disc Golf at Blue Mountain with a couple of redneck Missoula kids (yes, folks Big Sis is right...it's "Disc Golf" not folf.) The list of different people that I met while in Missoula goes on and on. And that kind of diversity is what has always made Missoula special to me and many others. The only regret is that I didn't get to meet Big Sis or Lil Sis...but then again, that might have taken the mystery out of reading these Making it in Missoula columns.
-Brian
People sure do mention Madison, WI quite a bit here (in the comments and in town). It's often compared to Missoula for it's progressive nature and University-feel. I've never been there, but it also sounds like quite the party town...is it worth a visit?
-BS
For a real idea of what "Making it in Missoula" means, though, someone needs to go undercover. Most of our graduate students can't afford to buy houses when they get out of school because it costs so friggin' much to live here. Try going into a staffing service (we have 3 or 4 of them in town) and getting a job that pays you more than $7 or $8 an hour. Before you suggest that those people don't have skills, keep in mind that many of the people looking for work now carry degrees, have professional backgrounds, extensive resumes, etc. I imagine if you are working multiple jobs to get by, you aren't doing a lot of the hip, fun things that stereotype Missoula, particularly on a Wednesday evening.
I honestly don't understand how the folks who aren't living on trust funds, aren't students living off a big stipend from Mom and Dad (or residuals from student loans that are just ticking away until the time comes to pay it back), didn't move here with money, or are not working for a higher wage as telecommuters for out-of-state employers than they could earn here (full disclosure: that is my secret to survival) manage to get by. We certainly have our share of "locals done good" buying houses and driving big pickups, but it sure seems like more of us are barely scraping by. What is that life like? How are those people making it in Missoula?
But I still can't figure out how I'll ever afford a house here. I've been sort of halfway looking for a house the last year, and realize I can only afford (at best) a small, moldy box with questionable-to-non-existent plumbing and no noticeable heating source.
As one friend put it: "You better win the lottery or find a husband or wife pronto if you wanna buy a house in Missoula." Seems doubtful I'll be marrying someone of either sex or winning big bucks anytime soon, though. Guess I'll keep checking out the "affordable" cold, moldy boxes up for sale...
-BS
Probably not a big surprise that I'm a barley pop enthusiast, and actually led the league in PBRs for the last three seasons in D League softball. ("Where we at in the game, Bob?" Me, opening fresh beer: "Top o' the third!")
There's definitely a contingent of Missoulians who seem filled with disgust and resentment at the clichéd lifestyles portrayed here on occasion, yet I never see any positive contribution from these individuals. I applaud you, Big Sis, for politely extending an invitation for some reports from "west of Higgins."
To me, it seems pretty goddamn logical that this town would be full of outdoor enthusiasts, because we're so close to the outdoors. I've got a few buds who are into disc golf, but I prefer the trad kind with the little white ball and a beer cart. My dog isn't cool enough to wear a bandana and be called Jake, but we have nothing against dogs who are. I like flyfishing and bluegrass, but 98% of the time it's spin-fishing and alt-country. From good ol' boys to granolas to middle class family folk, there's a lot of lifestyle variety in our funky little college town, and you can't paint it with a broad brush of one-color disdain. It's easy to take pot shots at the obvious targets, but that's about as challenging as going to Palm Beach, Florida, and sneering at septuagenarian Jews.
(side note: Brian, as far as the over-indulgers spoiling a good show, I definitely know what you're talking about. Especially at our show last Friday at the Union Club.)