We were headed to Butte, Montana, which would be our last stop in the U.S. for a while. The next day, we would cross the border into Canada. But before that, Cheryl had identified several state parks for us to visit. The first stop was the Prairie Dog Town State Park. While we had seen prairie dog towns already, we wanted to see the state park that was known for them. What a disappointment! We saw no prairie dogs and only some evidence of a prairie dog town. There was no visitor center, no rangers, and no interpretative signage that was readable. We moved on.

The next stop was Madison Buffalo Jump State Park, in Three Forks. Cheryl and Doug had been to a buffalo jump in Alberta and explained that Native Americans (First Nation’s people in Canada) used to force Buffalo to a cliff, make them jump off and kill them for meat, clothing and tools after they broke their legs in the jump. While not exactly a humane practice in 2025, it was a means of survival in days prior to the European settlements, and they did not kill more than they needed to feed their tribes. I was looking forward to learning more. 

When we got to the park, we had the same disappointment. There was no visitor’s center, no rangers, very little in the way of readable interpretative signage, and no handicap accessibility to what we believe was the real jump location. I walked as far as I could to get a couple of pictures before returning to the parking area for a couple of really good scenic photos.

Next, we took an unscheduled detour to see the headwaters of the Missouri River. When I was in school, we learned that the longest river in the U. S. was the Mississippi at 2,340 miles.  Today, they are teaching that it is the Missouri — by about 1 mile or 2,341. So, this seemed like a place we wanted to see. We made the detour and reached another Montana state park. This was slightly better than the first two, but not a great improvement. The signage was dated from the 1970 or 80s, and it was only partially legible. The old style relief geographic art had plexiglass that was cracked and blurred from age. From the interpretative site, we could see the headwaters, but the actual confluence was other the other side. Three rivers – the Jefferson, Madison and Gallatin – come together to form the Missouri. Again, little signage was available to tell the story, and I pieced information together from the one location, with Google Maps and Wikipedia, to get the full story of the start of the Missouri River.  Lewis and Clark camped here at the headwaters in 1805 and then

A little later in the trip, we went to Lewis and Clark Caverns State Park. This one had a visitor’s center at the bottom of the mountain with a ranger and a small gift shop with state park postcards and trinkets. The ranger told us there was a better gift shop at the top of the hill with better postcards and maybe the shot glass I was hunting for. It was threatening rain, but we drove up the hill. I had been working on postcards as we drove and when we reached the top, I stuffed them in the door of the truck. 

Inside, there was a concessionaire with a small restaurant and gift shop. The prices were obnoxiously high, even for a state park. We talked about going into the falls, but the entrance was a decent hike away, the skies were opening up, and the wind was threatening. We raced backed to the truck, and just as I opened the truck door, a postcard to my great granddaughter, Aria, went flying out. It was stamped, addressed and half written, but we could not see it. The wind gush took it sailing. My hope is that someone picks it up and drops it in the mail to her. 

I believe I have been spoiled by the excellent quality of the Tennessee, Colorado, and Arizona state parks, but Montana’s leave a lot to be desired. The ranger at the Lewis and Clark Caverns proudly announced that they were the premier state park in the system. While better than the others we saw, it was a sad commentary on the overall condition of Montana State Parks. 

That said, the best Wyoming scenery I found was in Montana.