Peter Brancaccio

When not hiking in the mountains that surround Bozeman, Peter and his wife Wendy can be found, most mornings, enjoying the quiet streams and small lakes which surround Valley West in Bozeman.

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The Other Yellowstone

Peter Brancaccio

Cold. The calendar said August, but up at the Specimen Creek Trailhead, 21 miles south of Big Sky, it felt more like late October. The heavy sweater I was pulling over my head at 6:45 a.m. was the fifth layer, and I was not entirely sure it…

Moon Lake & Deer Lake

Peter Brancaccio

I grew up in the shadow of NYC and, somehow, I’d never been to the Statue of Liberty. Some things we just take for granted I suppose. I’ve been passing the turn-off on 191 for the Deer Lake Trailhead for 10 years now. I’ve never…

The First Day of Summer

Peter Brancaccio

​It snowed ​last night. On the first day of summer in Montana. So, ​​before dawn ​I made a beeline for the Beehive Basin Trailhead in Big Sky. The Beehive has become a much sought after hike. There is a lot to like about this trek, and I…

Pickle WHAT?

Peter Brancaccio

Was it really invented by a U.S. Congressman? During the war? On an island? And then named after the family dog? Yes. No. Yes. And, no.Not too long ago, one of our neighbors was being pulled along by her two stout…

Dead Reckoning

Peter Brancaccio

Driving down the Taylor Fork on a cold morning can be a rutted-road, chassis-twisting, teeth-jarring, worn-out denim, old-Montana type experience. Real cowboys with dented hats and dusty jeans will be moving horse herds up and down this dirt road to…

It Was Supposed To Rain

Peter Brancaccio

White knuckles of billowing clouds were draped up and down the mountain valley contours. Sitting just above those valleys, the lower elevations were layered in paper thin ribbons of gauze, as I drove past the turnoff to Big Sky. When I pulled into…

Remembering Those Who Came Before Us

Peter Brancaccio

Thank you, Mr. Bailey. That is what I was thinking as the predawn light began to tent tively seek out the lake behind our home in the mid-autumn chill. Self-taught and uncommonly brilliant, Mr. Bailey risked everything, including his life, to live…

The Bear & Me

Peter Brancaccio

Fear is relative. Until you are in the middle of it. Last week, at dawn, I drove up the Taylor Fork Road to the four-mile mark. At the split, I turned south and followed Wapiti Creek until the dirt road ended. Two moose were grazing out on a piece of…