Anthony Bourdain: Parts Unknown

Some people must live in great spaces... where the sky

goes on forever... where everyone must bend to the land...

where to hunt, to fish, to sleep under that big sky

aren't activities, but a way of life.

It was between here and those mountains

that Cheyenne and Crow battle took place.

But I like it.

It's very peaceful, huh?

What was it like 100 years ago, 200 years ago?

Oh, not much different.

This was never forested.

This is the dry side of the river, 'cause the primary winds

come from the west.

And rain tends to blow over here.

That brings the snow to the mountains.

Legendary writer and poet Jim Harrison

is one of those people, and this is the place

he calls home.

Am I as old as I am?

Maybe not.

Time is a mystery that could tip us upside down.

Yesterday I was seven in the woods.

A bandage covered my blind eye.

68 years later, I can still inhabit that boy's body

without thinking of the time in between.

It is the burden of life to be many ages without seeing

the end of time.

Next time you turn off a news cycle filled with shouting

bobbleheads convinced that America is devolving

into a moronic inferno, questioning the greatness

of your nation, maybe you should come here.

Here are your purple mountains majesty.

This is the landscape that generations of dreamers,

despots, adventurers, explorers, crackpots, and heroes

fought and died for.

It's one of the most beautiful places on Earth.

There is no place like it.

Montana.

Many have come to claim their piece over the years.

But before the prospectors and explorers,

there were the Plains Indians.

The Absaroka have been master horsemen since they adopted

Spanish-introduced mustangs in the 18th century.

General "Black Jack"

Pershing... he called the Native Americans

the centaurs of the plains.

Better known as the Crow, they were once part

of the larger Hidatsa tribe.

Centuries ago, they split off on their own and wandered

or were pushed by conflict with the Blackfeet, Cheyenne,

and Dakota until settling here in

the Yellowstone River Valley.

That horse became everything to our people.

Kennard Real Bird grew up ranching and raising horses here

at Medicine Tail Coulee, which happens to be the exact spot

where General George Custer had the worst day of his life.

Kennard raises horses for rodeo... Go!

For riding, and for this... Indian relay racing.

The athletic ability on them kids are just amazing.

The competition is intense.

They travel all over to compete at this collarbone-smashing,

skull-cracking, bone-snappingly dangerous sport...

Former allies and former blood enemies alike.

It requires a lot of courage.

I'll bet.

And a high threshold for pain.

It's representative of warrior mentality.

Welcome!

One rider, three horses.

They're all in line.

When they're lined up, gun goes off.

It's like a spontaneous combustion.

Away they go!

Top speed is around 40 miles an hour.

And after each lap, the rider dismounts

at full freakin' gallop and leaps, hopefully,

onto the next horse.

Yes, it's as dangerous and difficult as it looks.

The prizes at big events run into the thousands of dollars,

but, really, it's about bragging rights...

And pride.

Being in motion, in rhythm, in time, and in one

with that horse, you develop strength of character.

And once they conquer that fear,

that feeling of accomplishment is so great,

when they walk back from that race,

they have this sense of pride, and self-worth is sky-high.

Now they've identified with their ancestors.

Ken's wife, Diane, has prepared a lunch of buffalo steaks,

potato salad, fry bread, and Indian pudding

made of Juneberry stewed with flour and sugar.

When I looked at my ancestors, they didn't have diabetes.

They didn't have much cancer.

They were very strong, durable people.

And I said, "Well, I'm gonna start eating"

nothing but buffalo."

Over the course of your life,

how much has this area changed?

Quite a bit.

We went and picked up a four-wheeler last Sunday.

It'll be the first four-wheeler on the place.

Given those changes, what are the Crow people

gonna be doing in 20 years, 30 years?

The horse is gonna play an important part

in the culture still?

I think so, yeah, because what's a place gonna be like

without horses?

I wouldn't want to be there.

Who owns this land?

Can anyone really own it?

Who gets to use it?

These are big questions that cut across traditional

ideological lines out here, where they have real meaning,

not theoretical meaning.

All this belongs to one man... this guy, Bill Galt.

Okay, we're about a half mile from the confluence of

Rock Crick and the Smith River.

Galt Ranch is 100,000 acres of grazing land, mountains,

cliffs, and valleys.

There's also some of the best trout fishing on the planet.

Bill, the water level on the crick looks good.

This is Bill's friend, the author and journalist

David McCumber.

They disagree on land use... a major issue.

Remember when you could do that and still be friends?

Lee Kinsey is a professional outfitter

who Bill leases some areas of his property to for fishing.

- All this to outwit a fish. - I know.

- It's amazing. - All right. Go ahead.

Start that tip high.

Throw that thing straight up in the air.

Good. Perfect.

Bill's a fifth-generation Montanan whose principle business

is raising cattle.

He's no weekend cowboy.

This is work.

And he pays a lot of attention to his land.

And a big issue for him... For just about everybody

around here... is the 1985 Stream Access Law.

Anybody that could access a stream via a public means

could, in fact, use the stream,

even if it was on private ground as long as they stayed

within the ordinary high-water mark of the stream.

Widely heralded by sportsmen and outdoor enthusiasts,

the law did not go down well with land owners like Bill.

Oh! Got him.

Something took a bite.

Yep. You still got a fish right in there too.

Oh, I see him.

Perfect.

That's it!

Oh!

Fish of the day.

Nice brownie.

All right.

Whoo!

Beautiful thing.

That's pretty.

But I will not eat you today, my friend.

Not today.

For lunch, a modest, protein-centered repast of steak...

A wagyu-angus hybrid bred and raised right here

on Bill's ranch.

There's the marbling on the wagyu steak.

That's what makes them good.

Oh, that's nice.

And it's pretty damn tasty, I could tell you.

So you hold an opposing view, is that correct, on access?

The idea behind the Stream Access Law

that if you stay in water, it's public...

I agree with that concept.

But where do you draw the line

for private-property rights?

If the state were to pass a law

that your restroom was public because the public needed it,

in your house... - Right!

Oh, just because this isn't my backyard doesn't mean

it's any less mine than your toilet is yours.

We still pay taxes on every foot of it.

I'm an old-school lefty, but I got to say,

I kind of completely understand the property owner's

point of view here.

There would be no ambiguity in my feeling

if I inherited this land and it had been in my family

for generations, and I looked around at it and

wanted to keep it like it is... If I were to go to a bar

in town and I would ask, "How do you"

feel about this issue?"

- Where would it break? - What would most people say?

It depends on if you're a fisherman or a landowner.

Clearly divided right down the middle.

Well, you know, a lot of people are gonna say,

"When I was a kid, I used to be able to go hunt and fish,

and I can't now, and stuff's getting closed off."

I have some sympathy for that.

Anybody that's not complying with Stream Access

merely has to step into the stream when he hears you coming.

Right.

The spirit of it is... it makes sense.

The spirit of it's thievery.