Approximately 3 million visitors make their way to Glacier National Park each year. The famous landscape is abrupt and monumental, a rugged ripple on the map that separates the Flathead Valley from the eastern grasslands and their disparate communities.

West Glacier is the quintessential National Park community. Tourist attractions line U.S. Route 2 with restaurants, campgrounds, minigolf, swimming pools, boat excursions, and gift shops stocking delicious huckleberry treats and souvenirs made anywhere but Montana. It’s what Downtown Disney is to Disneyland, if Disneyland was a glorious mountain wilderness on the Canadian border.

Across the towering mountains, East Glacier feels distant and isolated. Where the drama of the Rockies descends to the east, so begins the Blackfeet Nation and 3,000 square miles of its reservation. Vast, windswept grasslands extend north and east as far as the eye can see, dotted with occasional homes and ranches whose community center is the town of Browning, Montana.

A town of around 1,000 residents, Browning stands in stark contrast to the tourism-fueled communities west of the nearby park. From the outsider’s perspective it’s a tough town. Things have grown tougher in the aftermath of the COVID-19 pandemic and an ongoing overdose epidemic. The latter made apparent in murals that enliven subdued streets with symbols of Native pride accompanied by warnings of “Meth—NOT EVEN ONCE!”

Thirty percent of Browning’s families live in poverty and the town was disincorporated in 2018 after its government collapsed financially. Homes, businesses, and tribal offices appear weather worn from long, dark winters, and property is often strewn with old cars and other refuse. There’s barely a souvenir shop to be found, which is unfortuntae given the town's proximity to a popular national park.

Yet, surrounded by hardship, Browning comes alive every July for its North American Indian Days, one of the largest gatherings of U.S. and Canadian tribes. Four days of festivities—feature a rodeo, a parade, a carnival, and other events—are headlined by an untiring powwow that brings traditional dancing and powerful drumming into Browning's newly built arbor. Surrounding the wooden structure, a massive encampment of trailers and teepees serves as home for the week to competitors and spectators, while the nearby carnival and vendors draw locals and tourists alike.

The powwow is a spectacle of traditional dress full of vibrant colors, intricate beadwork, jingling bells, and plumes of feathers. It’s an overwhelming sight when hundreds of proud participants come together in the center of the community in the grand entry, drums pounding and voices wailing. To roam the grounds with a camera in hand would be a photographer’s dream. But in this my second visit, merely a tourist dazed by festivities, I struggled to shoot while lacking purpose, knowing I was missing the other story on the periphery.