The Bozeman High wrestling team has been running sprints and hitting the heavy bags in a warehouse on north seventh since june. the building smells like motor oil and deep heat rub. it also smells like sawdust, because the framers show up at seven a.m. to measure for the demo.
coach dale harvick leans against a stack of tractor tires the boys flip for conditioning. he has coached here since nineteen ninety-three. his whistle hangs from a lanyard that faded from gold to something closer to the color of the brick outside.
“the lease runs through september thirtieth,” harvick says. “after that, the developer said something about exposed beam aesthetics and a rooftop deck. i told him the beams are exposed because the roof leaks. he smiled like i made a joke.”
senior heavyweight travis colter wipes chalk off his hands. his dad drives a flatbed for a concrete outfit in belgrade. travis says the new lofts will rent for more than his dad clears in a month.
“coach says we’re building a foundation,” colter says. “feels like we’re building something they’re gonna tear down.”
the team does burpees where the kitchen island will go. they stretch where the quartz countertops will sit. the city commission approved the variance three to two. the two who voted no both have grandsons on the junior varsity.
harvick checks his watch. practice ends at six. the framers leave at five. the dust settles on the mats either way.
tryouts start in november. the address on the team website still points to the warehouse.
