The Cream of the West warehouse smelled like fresh breakfast cereal. In the sparsely furnished warehouse there were big metal bins and conveyer belts—the roaster, the cooler and the packaging machine. Alicia Moe, the general manager of Cream of the West, explained that the machines that make this business possible were brought to Harlowton in

As we enter Sarah Calhoun’s White Sulphur Springs shop, Red Ants Pants, we bring the smell of campfire with us. We spent two nights at Camp Baker, the put-in spot for boaters on the Smith River, and temperatures got down to the single digits. The fire has been our warmth for two days, and we

Not In My Backyard, not through the oak trees and my childhood playground, not through my favorite fig tree that produces fruit in August, not through the grass that stains my jeans and welcomes my wild running feet, and not through my neighbor’s either. Nimbyism, Not In My Backyard; defined as a term for someone

In downtown White Sulphur Springs, most storefronts are empty. The short buildings hunch over their dusty windows, making themselves as small as possible as if apologizing for their sorry state. Weeds grow alongside the streets and at buildings’ edges. In the closed taxidermist shop, frozen raccoon and deer stare out with blank eyes at the