One of the guidebooks to Yellowstone National Park that I consulted recommended flying into Bozeman, Montana and then getting out of town as quickly as possible. “Our opinion,” the guide writers wrote, “is that it’s not worth spending a lot of time in Bozeman.” I’m glad that I ignored this advice, as I found a few days in Bozeman to be exactly what I needed on each end of this trip.
Part of the reason was personal: I have friends who teach at Montana State University and wanted time to catch up with each of them, and I had signed up for the Bozeman Half Marathon. But I also found Bozeman—and Livingston, about 25 minutes to the east—to be simultaneously laid-back and vibrant, with beautiful scenery and Main Streets chock full of stores and restaurants.
What I Did
I started on my first morning in Bozeman at the Gallatin History Museum, housed in what was once the county jail. The initial exhibits emphasize the building’s past, going in depth on some famous cases and the mechanics of how policing worked in the early 20th-century West. Other rooms cover life in 19th-century Gallatin County; local medicine, sports, and entertainment; and historic photographs. As one docent explained, the museum is “A great place for both local history and true crime.”
From there, I planned to drive to Livingston and see two more museums (this is what happens when a historian goes on vacation). Upon arriving at the Yellowstone Gateway Museum, however, I learned that it was closed that week. I moved on to my next stop, the Livingston Depot Center located a few blocks away.
Built in 1902 by the Northern Pacific Railway, the Livingston Depot was established as the rail station for Yellowstone visitors. The museum that now fills the station’s historic waiting rooms is a treasure trove of information about Livingston itself, as well as the history of National Park tourism in the West and the Northern Pacific Railway.
(As I learned, the Northern Pacific was famous for the “great big baked potato” in its dining cars. Museum visitors are invited to “take a ride on the great big baked potato,” a huge brown beanbag. “Enjoy the potato responsibly,” a placard near the beanbag warns.)
I had done some reading before my trip on the history of tourism to Yellowstone, but walking through the train station that once served as the first stop for visitors to the park helped me think more deeply about what that experience might have been like. For most people in the early 20th century, taking a trip to Yellowstone was a major commitment, not a spontaneous decision, and could be a once-in-a-lifetime journey.
I made my own trip to Yellowstone early the next morning and spent four days there, which I’ll cover in tomorrow’s post. Upon returning to Bozeman, the first entry on my calendar was the half marathon, which started early on a Sunday morning in the foothills of the mountains south of the city. Although I thought I had prepared well for a race at a higher elevation than what I’m used to (5,400 feet above sea level at the starting line, compared to Ann Arbor’s 840 feet), I soon found myself feeling the effects of the altitude—nothing debilitating, just the realization that the race was going to be a lot more taxing than I had anticipated. My saving grace was that the course ran mostly downhill as it led onto Bozeman’s Main Street. It was still a slog. I dragged myself across the finish line and spent the rest of the day binge-watching Everwood in my hotel room.
The next morning called for some serious post-race recovery, which I sought at Bozeman Hot Springs. I moved from pool to pool, testing the different temperatures to determine which ones would relax my muscles but not make me feel like I was being boiled alive. At $21 for a full-day pass, this was the most luxurious bargain I could have asked for, and I now understand why “taking the waters” in spa towns has been prescribed as a therapeutic treatment.
I met up with my friend Maggie on Monday afternoon for lunch, a tour of the Montana State campus, and a short hike on the fir-covered slopes of Hyalite Canyon. Maggie pointed out something that I hadn’t fully registered: the air was growing hazy, a visible sign of wildfire smoke drifting over Montana from the west. After years of experiencing extreme air pollution in China, the tinge of smoky haze in Bozeman hadn’t been enough to catch my attention.
By Tuesday morning the smoke was even worse, so I decided that I needed to forgo outdoor activities. I took myself over to the Museum of the Rockies, which is a combination history and natural history museum, heavy on archeology and dinosaur exhibits. It was a somewhat disappointing final day, in that I’d really wanted to go on one last hike so I could enjoy more of the area’s scenery. Luckily, ice cream assuages all disappointments.
The skies were much clearer on Wednesday morning, the enormous picture windows of Bozeman’s airport providing spectacular views of the distant mountains. As I waited for my flight to Denver, I gazed at the scenery and promised myself: I’ll be back. As you’ll read in tomorrow’s post, I have plenty of unfinished business in Yellowstone.
Though that half marathon? That was definitely a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
What I Ate
The best meals of my entire trip were all in Bozeman, which has a very nice assortment of restaurants. My favorites:
- I started nearly every day at Treeline Coffee, which has fantastic iced Vietnamese coffee (heavy on the cinnamon) and outstanding writing vibes. I got a ton of drafting done here.
- A short walk away, Wild Crumb Bakery has lines out the door for a reason; everything is delicious.
- I ate dinner at Montana Ale Works twice and could really go for one of their bison patty melts right now.
- Bozeman Co-Op and Five on Black both offer healthy fast-casual options (salad bar, grain bowls, and a nice hot foods bar at the co-op—though it closes somewhat early).
- My friend Kayti and I met for a great brunch at Jam!, which was, uh, jam-packed (lol) even on a Tuesday. It’s worth the wait.
- All the ice cream shops sell huckleberry ice cream—a Montana specialty, you should try it.
- While Backcountry Burger Bar specializes in (obviously) burgers, I could eat their gochujang roasted Brussels sprouts every day.
- The menu at Red Tractor Pizza is filled with interesting combinations; I tried the Waldorf and would definitely go back for more.
I stayed at the Sapphire Motel, a groovy mid-century motor inn on the edge of downtown Bozeman.
Featured photo: Main Street in Livingston, Montana, September 3, 2024.
