Photo Credit: Outside Bozeman

That's what I thought the first time I got one. I was traveling down a two-lane dirt road in Montana. A driver passing in the opposite direction raised the fingers of their hand wrapped around the steering wheel in a slight wave. I didn't think to offer one in return.

As I drove on, I tried to recall if I had seen them at the fly shop that morning or the restaurant the night before. No. Then I thought they might be trying to warn me of something ahead. Maybe some cattle in the road, or deer, pronghorn, elk, or moose. I slowed out of caution. But there was nothing. I doubted they were trying to alert me to a county sheriff. This seemed like an unlikely place for a speed trap. The worn washboard surface made going the speed limit difficult, let alone exceeding it. But nothing blocked the road, and no cops lay in wait. I decided it was a case of mistaken identity. Someone they knew had a truck like mine. 

Then it happened again. And again. Always two-lane side roads.  No highways or thruways.  Then it dawned on me. This is something they do here. I had discovered "The Wave." 

And I started doing it too.

I searched for its history but didn't learn much beyond confirmation of its existence. The wave is simply a cursory gesture to a passing motorist. Usually, a driver raises just two fingers above the steering wheel. It's a polite hello and recognition of the other person sharing the road. No prior relationship or contact is required. No long-term commitment expected. One article cited it as “a sign of respect and common understanding.” 

Montanans are proud of this custom. As they should be. It's welcoming and hospitable. Although I have no idea who I'm waving to, I feel connected as we exchange waves. And it leaves me disappointed on the rare occasion my wave goes unanswered. I felt bad about those first few waves I failed to respond to and how I must have made those drivers feel. 

Failing to wave is becoming a concern to native Montanans. More people are discovering the beauty of a state that refers to itself as “The last best place.”  Tourists and people moving there to escape concrete, pavement, and crowds. And just like me, they don't know about the wave. It's enough of a concern the Montana Arts Council created a simple guide called How to Wave, Montana Style.

I don't wave at home. Waving starts when I arrive in Montana and ends when I leave. We don't have a broad wave policy here in the Midwest. We offer a polite smile or nod to people we don't know as we pass them going in and out of stores and restaurants. But waves are reserved for friends, relatives, and acquaintances. We waved in the Northeast. A raised middle finger accompanied by a scowl. But only when provoked. Or having a bad day. Or on Thursdays. When passing strangers, we simply avoided eye contact. 

On a recent trip back to my adopted state, I passed some folks who didn't wave. They'll eventually learn as I did. Then I passed a driver I thought was a bit overeager in their wave—hand entirely off the wheel, a broad, rapid gesture back and forth. I raised two fingers in return and figured they'd get the hang of it someday. Then I rounded the bend and found a moose standing in my lane. I skidded to a stop. The moose looked over their shoulder at me and casually wandered off. 

Shaken from the near-collision, I gestured at the animal. If the moose noticed, they probably thought I was a transplant from New Jersey and would eventually learn to add a finger or two to my wave. 

After the animal cleared the road, I continued. Soon another car approached. The other driver and I almost simultaneously raised our fingers. The shock of my near-miss forgotten, I felt good. Maybe the world would be a better place if we unclenched our angry, uptight fists and took up the habit of raising our fingers in this simple sign of respect and understanding. 

Give it a try. 

And watch out for moose.