I'm still not quite over the events of yesterday, so today I plan to do just what I feel like: nothing.
Or, at least, not much. I shall still write down what I'm doing right now.
Montana is the 41st state of the US. Its central and western territories are comprised of mountains, which is how it derives its name: montana means "mountain" in Spanish. It's the fourth largest state, though its population is only the 44th largest. The home of my friend, Randy is one of the almost-completely uninhabited US states. It is basically agricultural, with many farmers raising animals; another successful part of the economy is timber. Although Billings is not the official capital, it is where most of the population reside. Out of the state's 902,000
inhabitants, 104,000 live in this city. Like most American cities, Billings is quite young, having been founded in 1877. The settlement, located in the Yellowstone Valley, became important during the construction of the North Pacific Railway in the 1880's. One of its first inhabitants was the president of the railway company, Frederick H. Billings (1823 - 1890), whose name the city later adopted.
The state flag went unchanged for many decades. It came into use in 1905, but the name
"Montana" was not added until 1981. The history of the emblem on the blue background dates back further, to 1865. It depicts the waterfalls of the Missouri River, and the Rocky Mountains.
The plough, pick-axe and spade are all symbols of the state's agricultural and mining industries.
I wander down to breakfast, and systematically eat my way through everything on the menu.
I have only one plan for today - to soothe my ruffled nerves - I'm going shopping. Cabela's opened their store here on 14th May this year, and visiting it is a must for every hunter coming to this town. I get into a taxi and we set off.
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Billings' taxis operate on an ingenious system. The city is divided into zones, and tariffs are calculated depending on which zone you are in and which you go to. That means that taxis do not need meters. When I got in, the driver told the dispatcher, over the radio, where I wanted to go, and he replied, which I could hear, that the fare would be $15.00. I checked it on Google and the distance between the hotel and Cabela's is 28 mi. so the price is completely fair. The system is simple and clear, the passenger knows exactly what to expect, and there is no chance of being ripped-off.
In the middle of a field stands a huge, red-brick building, bearing the familiar yellow sign written in cursive script: CABELA'S. Inside is a real hunter's heaven: an unlimited selection of everything a man can possibly think of. What they don't have here, simply doesn't exist. The shop assistants are always smiling, you can try out everything on the shelves, and there is always someone to help you find your way amongst the plethora of goods. In one part of the store a huge diorama shows all the big game found in North America. It's a magnificent work, a superb example of taxidermy. In front of it is a notice telling the public that, in the last century, many American species came close to extinction, but effective protection has now saved these animals from dying out. The permits bought by hunters, the taxes paid on equipment, and the money raised in general by hunting, have all contributed to saving these animals.
Here, in just ten lines, they have set out an argument which those people who disapprove of
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hunting cannot dispute. These are not vague hints on how to retain hunting traditions or how to maintain levels of game stock, which the average person who doesn't hunt won't understand anyway. Financial arguments are useful because it is very difficult to dispute them. Surely hunting would be more acceptable in Hungary if the general public were told just how much hunters pay into the country's budget, money which can then be used for nature protection projects and national parks.
Once I am in one of Cabela's shops, I can hardly tear myself away from it; I've been hanging around the aisles, with my basket, for hours. The assisstants are beginning to recognise me, like some wandering ghost. I buy a new pair of pants, which are too long, but that doesn't matter as there is a small tailor's shop here, and they will shorten them for me. Then I start to get into my stride, and my basket begins to fill up. I can see that I will soon have another box to send home. I also buy a trail camera to watch game with; I hope that Robi and the other hunters will be able to make good use of it back in Csákvár. I've been meaning to install such equipment for a long time.
It is actually a digital camera linked to a motion –a sensor that operates either in daylight, or by using infra-red light at night. It has an infra-red flash, which will not disturb the game. It is installed on a tree and, if an animal passes in front of it, it will automatically, and silently, take a picture.
Thus we will gain an accurate idea of the number, quality, and sex of the animals in the area it covers.
In the shop I spend a long time playing The Big Bulls Hunter video game. You have to take shots at various types of US game animals, in various situations. I choose deer, but can't get a high score. Although you are not supposed to fire at the cows, I shoot at anything on the screen that moves. The machine punishes me severely.
In the afternoon I walk over to the Big Bear Sports Center, just a couple of hundred feet from the hotel. It is a general sports store, and its hunter's corner has only a small selection; but, as it is so near, it was worth the visit.
I read in some guidebook that trying the local cuisine is an essential part of getting to know a country. It must be true, as books like that are always written by experienced travellers; so I take its advice. I run across the avenue and go into a real American restaurant. It's called Macdonalds.
I eat probably the 1000th Big Mac of my life, accompanied with about half a gallon of Coca-Cola, hoping, in the meantime, that should this diary eventually become a book, it won't fall into the hands of my personal trainer. If Kelly Kutasi finds out that I eat in fast-food restaurants, she will cut my head off...
I send all my clothes to the laundry, and sit in the jacuzzi.
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Room 322
Hilton Garden Inn
Billings