Rising through the Ranks

A fall visit to Tippet Rise, for mountain biking and art viewing.

After a long summer and lots of weekends on the road, boxes checked, and most of our to-do list accomplished, my girlfriend and I sat around one Friday evening with the winter fast approaching, wondering what we had left to do still before the snow finally arrived. There on our list was one item left to be crossed off: visiting Tippet Rise. Luckily for us, we opened the signup page and it was their final weekend before closing down for the season. Just as lucky was that the pleasant fall weather was looking like it would hold out for another weekend, giving us one last sunny, warm ride on the saddle, exploring the Tippet Rise trails before the early-winter cold & grey moved in. So we packed our bags that night and set out first thing in the morning.

With breakfast burritos in hand and bikes in tow, we headed east toward Livingston, then Columbus, Absarokee, and finally Fishtail. We rounded the last gravel bend with Tippet Rise just up the way, and were greeted by sculptures and other art lining a pristine welcome area.

Most people don’t come just to look at art or listen to music. They come to move through it, biking and hiking the 15-plus miles of trails that weave the ranch together.

For those who don’t know, or have only heard the name mentioned in hallowed tones among mountain bikers and art aficionados, Tippet Rise is a 12,500-acre active, living & breathing art installation tucked up against the Beartooth Mountains just outside of Fishtail. I say living & breathing because it also operates an active sheep-and-cattle ranch, working around the empty space surrounding the variety of artwork mediums. What began as a passion project for founders Cathy and Peter Halstead has become one of the largest sculpture parks in the world, with massive, site-specific works by artists like Mark di Suvero, Patrick Dougherty, and Alexander Calder. You may even hear music echoing through the landscape, so make sure to get ahead of the game with concert reservations, because they book up fast. But most people don’t come just to look at art or listen to music. They come to move through it, biking and hiking the 15-plus miles of trails that weave the ranch together.

The trails themselves are surprisingly fun and sporty, well worth the drive alone for folks looking to get some miles in, immersed in a fresh new backdrop for those of us not blessed with the Beartooths in our back yard. After a few fun turns on our bikes, we arrived at our first sculpture, the Satellite. This is an intricate, imposing wood structure set on a hillside. For me, it was reminiscent of towering mining equipment, the kind you’d see appearing out of the side of a mountain, or on top of one, like the headframes in Butte. Not sure if that’s what the artist was going for, but either way, it was a welcome snack-and-water break.

Whether art exists for the artist or for the person standing in front of it depends on who you ask. At Tippet Rise, though, it’s all about the viewer experience. To keep from overloading the trails and facilities, they’ve implemented a booking system that only allows a certain number of trail users per day. Knowledgeable guides and guest-service agents are stationed around the property to help point you in the right direction for whatever you’re looking to discover. And yes, they have guided van tours for folks who want to experience the melding of art and nature without the requisite challenges that come with hiking and biking.

Just as the trails seem to take the shape of the land, so does the Beartooth Portal.

For Jamie and me, our ride continued up and around gullies and ridgelines, on thoughtfully designed trails that let you move through the landscape almost effortlessly. Okay, maybe it took some effort, considering Jamie is still getting her singletrack sea legs, but the rises, falls, twists, and turns all feel like they move along the terrain in a way that gives you a real, beautiful look into this unique environment. Over one hill, a vast plain ran up against the Beartooth Mountains, way off in the distance. Then on a ridgeline, a rugged and sharp cliff sliced off the foothill down to a desolate, dry ravine—which Jamie made sure to steer well clear of. And finally, up and around the bend, we came to our next art piece, the Beartooth Portal.

Just as the trails seem to take the shape of the land, so does the Beartooth Portal. Partners Antón García-Abril and Débora Mesa, who lead Ensamble Studio, set out to create a piece that comes from the ground it sits on, born from the earth. Using holes dug into the ground as molds, the artists poured concrete directly into the earth, letting the cast rise up out of the ground to take its final form. It creates a striking presence you can walk in and around, one that echoes the mountainous landscape surrounding it—as the Beartooth Mountains were born from the earth, so is the Beartooth Portal.

There’s tons more to discover, even for Jamie and me, but our day was waning. As we debated whether to push further out on the trails or head back in, we recited one of our favorite sayings: better to not turn over every stone. That way, we’d have something to come back for. We left plenty more to be uncovered, and we’ll certainly be back to turn a few more stones. In the meantime, there were burgers and fries waiting for us in Fishtail.