Clark's Footprints to Eastern Montana's Future

By editor

Billings, Yellowstone County, Montana

In the summer of 1806, Captain William Clark navigated the Yellowstone River with a precision and diligence that far exceeded mere exploration. His journey was a scientific survey of a landscape shaped by deep geological time, a terrain whose ancient rocks and living organisms were, to him, both material and measure. As he and his party moved downstream, Clark recorded not only the river’s dimensions and course but the very resources that would alter the fate of this part of the continent.

The Yellowstone River, as Clark found it, is a waterway born of volcanic upheaval and glacial sculpting. The river valley cuts through the Cretaceous sedimentary formations deposited roughly 70 million years ago, layers rich with coal seams that Clark observed exposed in the riverbanks. These seams are remnants of ancient swamps where dense vegetation accumulated and was buried, transforming under heat and pressure into the carbon-rich fuel that would later fuel the engines of industrial progress. Clark’s notes on the coal were more than casual remarks--they were an early account of the region’s mineral wealth, a resource critical to the expansion of railroads and settlements.

Clark’s party reached the Yellowstone on July 15, 1806, having crossed the Bozeman Pass watershed. His journal entries reveal a man methodically cataloging the landscape. He described the “cottonwood bottoms” along the riverbanks--Populus deltoides, a species adapted to the riparian environment, their broad leaves rustling in the summer breeze. These trees held the promise of timber, essential for building frontier settlements. The open benchlands above the river, covered in native grasses such as bluebunch wheatgrass (Pseudoroegneria spicata) and western wheatgrass (Pascopyrum smithii), would later feed the cattle that transformed Montana’s economy. Clark also took note of the abundant game--the elk (Cervus canadensis) and bison (Bison bison)--that roamed the hills and plains, vital to the subsistence of Native American tribes and early hunters.

Clark’s observations were not isolated moments of curiosity; they were strategic assessments. “On our return we shall probably pass down the yellow stone river, which from Indian informations, waters one of the fairest portions of this continent,” wrote Meriwether Lewis in a letter to President Thomas Jefferson on April 7, 1805. This anticipation framed the expedition’s route and underscored the significance of the Yellowstone as a corridor of both natural abundance and future American expansion.

Within ten years of Clark’s passage, fur traders had established a presence along the Yellowstone. The fur trade, driven by demand for beaver pelts to supply the fashion of beaver hats, brought trappers and traders into contact with the Crow and other Native nations. By 1828, the American Fur Company, under the leadership of Pierre Chouteau Jr., had established Fort Union at the confluence of the Yellowstone and Missouri Rivers. Fort Union became a hub of commerce and diplomacy, linking indigenous peoples, traders, and the expanding United States.

The establishment of the Crow Reservation in 1868 on the south side of the Yellowstone River marked a new phase in the region’s transformation. The Crow Nation’s relationship to the land was complex, shaped by traditional hunting and gathering practices that had coexisted with the buffalo herds for millennia. The reservation system, imposed by treaty, confined the Crow to a fraction of their ancestral lands but also coincided with the decline of the bison, whose numbers fell precipitously by the late 19th century due to overhunting and habitat alteration.

The arrival of the Northern Pacific Railroad in the 1880s further accelerated change. The railroad followed the natural corridor that Clark had mapped, linking eastern Montana to national markets and migration routes. Towns such as Columbus, Billings, Miles City, and Glendive emerged along the rail line, their streets laid out on prairie soils that once supported wild grasses and bison grazing. The coal Clark noted in the riverbanks supplied the steam engines that pulled these trains, converting geological deposits into motion and commerce.

Agriculture followed the railroad. The Yellowstone River became a lifeline for irrigation, enabling the cultivation of sugar beets, wheat, and other crops that replaced the native prairie ecosystem. This transformation was profound: where once vast herds of bison shaped the land, now there were fields and fences. The river’s waters, once free-flowing over ancient alluvial terraces, were diverted for human needs.

Clark’s journey is a geological and ecological prelude to this cascade of change. His detailed records show a landscape of dynamic processes and resources--a river channel shifting through sedimentary beds, forests growing in floodplains, grasses waving on wind-swept benches, and animals inhabiting niches shaped by millennia. This was a land still young in human terms but ancient in its physical formation.

The Yellowstone itself flows from the Absaroka Range, uplifted in the Eocene epoch about 50 million years ago, carving a path through volcanic rocks and sedimentary layers. Clark’s passage downriver was a descent through these layers of time, each bend revealing another chapter of Earth’s history. His party included Sacagawea, who served as a guide and interpreter, her knowledge crucial in navigating this unfamiliar terrain. Clark noted that “the Indian woman who has been of great Service to me as a pilot through the Country recommends a gap in the mountain more South which I shall cross.” This reliance on indigenous knowledge was a practical necessity and a recognition of deep local expertise.

Clark’s footprints on the Yellowstone were more than physical impressions in the soil; they were the outlines of a future shaped by the interplay of natural resources and human ambition. The coal seams he described still fuel power plants today. The grasses he noted still grow as pasture, albeit managed and altered. The river remains a vital artery, though its flows are regulated and its ecosystems challenged.

In reflecting on Clark’s journey, one is reminded that exploration is not merely a movement through space but a measurement of potential. Clark’s methodical approach to recording the river’s features and resources laid a foundation for the transformation of eastern Montana from a landscape of wild nature to one of human industry and settlement.

As Clark himself wrote in his journals, the Yellowstone River “waters one of the fairest portions of this continent.” His words capture not only the river’s beauty but its promise--a promise realized in the towns, railroads, and farms that now line its banks.

See also

• Clark's Footprints to Eastern Montana's Future at Billings, Yellowstone County
• Captain Clark and the Corps of Discovery on the Yellowstone at Livingston, Park County
• Clark's Canoe Camp on the Yellowstone at Park City, Stillwater County