JUST HANGING AROUND

Ingomar, Montana, is one of the strangest places I have ever been to.

This is inside the hotel (of sorts). Thanks Susan for making it

possible.

I like the disparate yet very clean looking collection...I also like the slight deviation of the right framed poster together with the reflexion which to me, for some reason, adds energy and dynamism....

Laurent nailed it with his remarks, clean-looking indeed. This is a beautifully organized and produced pictures almost surreal in its juxtaposition of divergent yet perfectly matched objects. A really distinctive photograph. I wish I had taken it.

this photo is great. Such different things, yet all have that one thing in common, including the photographer (you were hanging around too, right?). It is clean and all that stuff combines well. Nice composition. BTW, I'm glad you posted a photo, I thought your shutter got stuck or something (or you ran out of V8...that would be even worse, man). Cheers, Micheal

 

The title is as priceless as the photo itself. I'd loved to be the author of this. Congratulations and thanks for delivering these gems to us. Seems like you are living in kinda Eldorado for a photographer over there.

I have not sufficient verbal skills to convey the information necessary to fully appreciate this image. Of course, one would like to hope that an image needs no explanation, and I suppose this one can stand on its own, even if a bit wobbly. But I would like to make some effort to describe this most bizarre of places in a region where horses outnumber people.

 

First, I want to make it very clear that if it were not for fellow Pnet photographer par excellance, Susan Stone, I would never have found myself with the opportunity to see this most unusual of places. So thank you once again my dear friend Susan.

 

Without going into a lot of boring detail, which you can easily find on the Internet should you search Ingomar, Montana, let me just say that this town was founded near the turn of the century in the high eastern desert of Montana, primarily because the railroad provided it with an importance that it otherwise would never have had. It prospered briefly as a hub of shipping for the surrounding area, and was particularly successful in providing a method of shipping out wool from the many sheep that were husbanded in the huge surrounding area of high desert grasslands. They were brought to town, sheered, and the wool sent off immediately.

 

There were no paved streets, but a sizeable business community did apparently spring up. As so often happens, circumstances turned against this town and economic factors made Ingomar untenable. The town languished and the buildings largely went to ruin. In recent years, a benefactor came along, and marginally restored the saloon, The Jersey Lilly to operation, and an effort was made to make this isolated town a viable community. To that end, the old schoolhouse was turned into a hotel of sorts called the "Bunk-n-Bisquit."

 

Most of the other buildings still are abandoned and ramshackle. Lest you think of all the touristy ghost town restorations you have seen, let me assure you this is not one of them. The Jersey Lilly still has two rather primitive wooden outhouses out back for your use, and the cigarette hanging from the mouth of the stuffed moose hanging on the wall of the saloon testifies to the degree of refinement found here.

 

Inside the saloon one is far more likely to discover a real cowboy, and no passing tourists. When I was introduced to five of the rather inebriated cowboys by my host, they all stood up and lifted their hats off their heads in an old fashioned manner, while extending their roughened and powerful hands to this obviously hopeless city boy. They wore longsleeve shirts and jeans, and had ornate, but well used and muddy cowboy boots extending to just below their knees. The real thing.

 

I walked around the town without seeing nary a soul. Almost all the activity centers around the Jersey Lilly. But upon arriving at the old schoolhouse now turned into the Bunk-n-Bisquit Hotel, I found no one there. The door was unlocked, and a sign said to check in at the Jersey Lilly. The hotel had a large lobby in what would have been the main classroom. It had an eclectic collection of second hand and third hand furniture, but it was clean and the floors were nicely polished. On the walls were many photos of the gentleman who had become the town's saviour. And, above those, were the heads of many big game animals that seem to have found their way from Africa to Montana. There was a deck of cards on a table, a wood-burning stove and a board game or two. In other rooms there were pictures and other stuffed animals hanging on all the walls, and many many single beds, all made up nicely and appearing reasonably comfortable. They were set up in rows, barracks style.

 

No office, no attendant, no maid to speak of. Just this very strange old school and no people around. I was told that the following weekend there would be a rodeo in town and the little schoolhouse would have all its beds occupied. I can only imagine the sight of all of these real honest-to-god cowboys filling the bunks with their ten gallon hats and boots resting at the foot of each little bed.

 

So all of this is by way of trying as well as I might to explain this image from a surreal adventure into a land now far away. I expect to post some others from the same town soon.

 

To Laurent, Jack, Markku, and Micheal, I extend my sincere thanks for taking a look at this image, and for seeing some of the magic that I saw when taking it.

 

 

thanks for the verbal outpouring. Hope your laptop didn't run out of battery juice, ha ha ha. Actually, it does help, and it adds to the photo - it's nice to understand the story behind. So, are you packing up your house and moving to the town? Cheers, Micheal

 

You weren't really in Ingomar David, but the Twilight Zone......

 

I'm still heartsick that I accidentally erased my CF card from that outing, but I'll enjoy viewing your posts.

First of all, I love the account of your adventure. It definitely adds color to the photo (as if it needed any color..). I'm struck with how each the objects hung in somewhat sterile surrounds depicts life either captured or absent. Two photos of cows and horses on the move, but now trapped behind glass and obscured by the reflections of electric lights. The deer staring vacantly, half emerging as if the wall had been plastered around it. And the rack of wire hangers, empty. Where's the life? Your story tells where life was spending its time (at the saloon), but here, this appears to be a photo of the West trapped and tamed.

I don't know about the Twilight Zone, but a time warp for sure! Thanks again.

Thanks for looking. The life wasn't there. Only signs of life. The hangers represent the communal closet. In this room there were about 15 or so beds. All made up, all clean. The reflection, by the way was from the windows. There were no lights on, although I am sure there was power. And, yes, this town with so much decay and mud streets and lack of habitation, still had this place for the weary traveler. But for sure, nobody came here without intending to or being very lost. Stay tuned for more Ingomar pics.

Wonderful picture and commentary. I think seriously that you would be a marvelous travel photographer and writer! You can offer a feel for a place and its past, both in pictures and in words. A rare talent.

Thanks. Assuming I could overcome a deep-seated lethargy, I think I would like that very much.

documentary at its best!

Thanks. Much appreciated.