At the intersection of Highways 15 and 90 in Southwestern Montana sits Butte, population 34,000 and some change. Near the off ramp, a sign advertises “Big horn skulls, beetle cleaned and camo dipped.” Mini casinos proliferate, ATVs are driven on the streets in town, and men wear Wrangler jeans, but not cowboy hats; this ain’t Wyoming. Names of local military servicepeople are inscribed on yellow ribbon signs hanging from lampposts along Harrison Avenue.

An Auspicious But Quiet Neighbor

Boondocking spot secured at Wal-Mart, I peered through the windshield to see the gates of Mountain View Cemetery.

Why was that name so familiar? Checking my go-to sources of Roadside America, Atlas Obscura, Find a Grave, and 1,000 Places to See Before You Die, I soon learned that Mountain View is the final resting place of Evel Knievel.

Even though Evel died in Clearwater, Florida, his remains were interred at Mountain View. After all, he was born in Butte.

The marker on Evel’s grave was first carved in 1974, to commemorate his jump over the Snake River Canyon in the event Evel bit the proverbial dust. The jump itself was unsuccessful, but Evel lived. The stone sat in a warehouse somewhere until about four years before his death, when he requested that it be shipped to Butte. The opposite side was engraved as his final tombstone.

In the parking lot at Wal-Mart, a middle-aged man inquired about the logo on the RV. He then asked if I knew that Evel was buried across the road. He held up his left hand, complete with a crooked and mangled pinky finger: “You see this finger? I almost cut it off at the age of 11. At the hospital it was being sewn back on, but I was anxious. My mom told me to calm down – the finger would be saved. She didn’t understand that Evel was jumping Snake River Canyon on television and, and I was missing it!”

No doubt, Evel is still remembered, and beloved, in this part of the country. A bartender in her early 20s recalled fondly that she once met Evel at her grandparents’ house. “He was a sweet little old man then. What a badass.”

“The Richest Hill On Earth”

Butte is known as “Copper City.” The mascots at Montana Tech are The Orediggers.

Historic Uptown streets are named for mineable treasures: Silver, Gold, Diamond, Platinum, Steel – but the finest homes and buildings are along Granite Street.

Copper mining was, and is, king in Butte – copper is still mined there. If you’re interested, Ivan Doig wrote historical fiction novels about Montana, including “Work Song,” about copper mining in Butte.

Mining remnants range from charming to toxic. On the charming side, over a dozen headframes , which took miners below ground before the advent of pit mining, dominate the town skyline.

Speaking of pit mining, over at Berkeley Pit (1955-1982), a Superfund Site, the water is constantly purified and may no longer be toxic by 2023. Let’s hope.

In the meantime, intermittent beeps and chirping noises reminiscent of a first gen Atari video game deter birds from landing; the last flock that took a load off didn’t fare so well.

Berkeley Pit closed in 1982, and not coincidentally, so did the last whorehouse in town – Dumas Brothel.

Uptown has good bones, but like those last prostitutes, most have seen better days and are in need of serious rehab.

For every coffee shop, bar or boutique, there are five empty storefronts and crumbling facades.

The Montana Folk Festival was just getting underway for the weekend, and Uptown was buzzing with activity. It didn’t hurt that Butte is the only town in Montana which allows public consumption of alcohol.

The Oldest Chinese Restaurant … In Butte?

The main reason I stopped into Butte was Pekin Noodle Parlor – the oldest continuously operating Chinese restaurant in the United States. Sure, Chinese restaurants opened in New York and San Francisco in the 1800s. But Pekin, opened in 1911, never closed, never relocated, never burned down, and is still owned by the same family.

The menu is chow mein and chop suey heavy, and very little has changed since Pekin opened its doors, including private booths.

Facebook friends marveled that such a place would be in Butte, but why not? The influx of Chinese immigrants during western expansion is well-known, and there is a museum in town dedicated to the contributions of the Chinese people to Butte.

The Future?

I sensed a hip renaissance was afoot in Butte; there is a large number of people under 30. It’s understandable, given affordable housing and a charming town just ready for revitalization.

Alas, there was not enough time to see Our Lady of The Rockies, a 90-foot metal statue straddling the Continental Divide and overlooking Butte; visitation is by tour bus only, and each way is over two hours. Next time.