Knit Montana Yarn Crawl - A Best Case

Back in January, I was offered a Knit Montana Yarn Crawl card as I was checking out at Lone Pine Wool Emporium. As someone who does not knit, but rather crochets rather inconsistently, a Yarn Crawl was a bit aspirational. But no harm in taking the card, right? Worst case scenario is the card clutters my counter for a few weeks and then gets tossed. But the best case? The best case scenario is that I buy more, learn more, and make more.

My Knit Montana Yarn Crawl turned out to be a “best case scenario.”

Buy more.

I spent a lot of money on fiber and fiber accessories this year! Some of the stores I visited in person myself: Lone Pine Wool Emporium, Joseph’s Coat, and Stix. I sent my husband on a golfing side quest to visit Yarn and Honey on my behalf. And for the rest on my Yarn Crawl Card, I enjoyed the convenience of online retail (Unicorn Fluff, Fiber Yarns, Yarn Bar, Kolin Ranch Fibers, Hoof and Paw Farm, and Blooming Joy Farm.)

Aside from purchasing a collection of really excellent yarn, I also purchased raw fleece for the first time! Two for the purposes of spinning and a few more for the purpose of enriching my garden, all from Hoof and Paw Farm. (My garden, incidentally, has truly flourished this year.) Beyond the fiber itself, I also invested in some hand carders, a drop spindle, and some very nice metal darning needles. Between the fleece, the yarn, and the tools, I was all set to learn more and make more.

Learn more.

The Yarn Crawl was my first introduction to the concept of a fibershed and, intrigued as I was, I decided to spend more time learning about fiber, textile production, and history. In the last year, my reading list on the subject has been:

Fibershed: Growing a Movement of Farmers, Fashion Activists, and Makers for a New Textile Economy by Rebecca Burgess

Women’s Work: The First 20,000 Years: Women, Cloth, and Society in Early Times by Elizabeth Wayland Barber

Fight Like Hell: The Untold History of American Labor by Kim Kelly (turns out the labor movement and textile history go hand in hand!)

Worn: A People’s History of Clothing by Sofi Thanhauser

Vanishing Fleece: Adventures in American Wool by Clara Parkes

I augmented my audiobook experiences with my new favorite YouTube channel, JillianEve, as well as a trip to visit Sugar Loaf Wool Mill, one of the few wool mills in the state. Seeing with my own eyes the various machines involved in processing wool has given me a whole new perspective and appreciation for how things–all things, not just wool things–are made. 

A natural extension of these intellectually stimulating pursuits was to actually try some of these skills myself. I scoured the wool. I carded it. I made rolags, but I am pretty sure I made them badly. I first put the Icelandic wool on my spindle, which did not go well. Then I tried the Shetland, which worked better. Then I learned about having a leading string to get the spin started, and that is when I finally made some progress! I had my children make a Lazy Kate for me using the box my Ashford carders came in, a hole punch, and several chopsticks. All told, I now have approximately two yards of very lumpy “yarn.” 

In addition to learning facts and skills, I also learned a lovely song called Sheep’s Wool by Little Folkies on their “Songs for Spring” album. I sang it with several of my elementary classes, even going so far as to bring in my carders, spindle, and badly-made rolags for them to see and touch. 

Make more.

I started crocheting some time in late elementary school and was too impatient to learn how to do it properly. For over two decades, crocheting was something that I did each year around Christmas as something to do with my hands as my family listened to The Christmas Carol on the radio. I never progressed past hats, and only recently discovered that I have spent 20+ years doing all of my crochet stitches in the back loop only. All that to say: I am a messy, chaotic, intuitive fiber friend who has barely learned which stitch is which, let alone followed a pattern.

But on my Yarn Crawl, I decided to change that. I decided that come hell or high water I would make a sweater for my five-year old daughter. I ordered a lot of yarn from Blooming Joy Farm, mostly brown, but a bit of white, some of which I dyed myself to a dazzling bright pink. I purchased (my first ever) crochet pattern from Tinna Thórudóttir, in part because she had a very thorough YouTube tutorial to go with the pattern. I practiced a new-to me stitch, whose name I have since forgotten, and then started on the sleeves in March. By the time I had purchased vintage buttons from Stix and finished the button holes, my five year old had turned six and I gave it to her, unblocked with ends hanging out everywhere, for her birthday. 

I made my first sweater!

Her birthday is at the end of June and by the first week of July I had started on my second sweater, this time for myself–without reference to a pattern. Using the same stitch from my daughter’s cardigan, I tried my hand at a top-down, circle yoke sweater. I used a whole lot of squishy, wonderful white Rambouillet from Kolin Ranch Fibers, some of my remaining brown Icelandic from Blooming Joy, and some hand painted wool/mohair blend that my father gifted to me years and years ago. I made far too many

increases in the circle yoke, which lent a rather unconventional shape to my sweater. But by mid-September, it was off my hook, blocked, and in my closet ready to be worn on the spare few cold mornings we have had so far this fall. I even wore it for school pictures this year because handmade sweaters should be seen and celebrated.

And now I am unstoppable! More yarn! More patterns! My three year old gets a sweater next–hers will be Rambouillet white with rainbow stripes (from Unicorn Fluff). When I finish this third sweater, I will have done a top-down pullover, a bottom-up pullover, and sleeves-first cardigan. I was once a December-only crocheter, and now I barely leave the house without my project bag, just in case I get a few minutes to work. 

Appreciate more.

As a gardener, I have a special appreciation for the time and effort that goes into growing a fruit or vegetable. I have taken to cradling my farmer’s market or store-bought produce and saying to it, “I hope the farmer is proud.” I hope they feel great about growing such a delicious nectarine, or such a crisp pepper. And in the same way I hope our farmworkers feel proud of tending to the food we eat, I hope that everyone involved in the Knit Montana Yarn Crawl feels proud of the work they have done.

I hope the producers feel proud of raising healthy, robust sheep that yield wonderful wool. I hope the shearers feel proud to have taken that wool safely from the animal to the skirting table. I hope the mill operators and hand spinners just brim with pride when they think of all the many steps it took them to go from raw fleece to skeins of beautiful yarn, ready for hooks or needles. I hope the dyers who transform white yarn into a whimsy of colors know that my three year old sits and watches me crochet, cheering as the colors change. I hope the shop owners who stock the shelves with a veritable treasure trove of yarn and fiber tools feel proud of being a hub of creativity within their respective communities. And I hope the people who decided to organize the Knit Montana Yarn Crawl feel proud of their great idea because it has pushed at least this fiber friend to explore new aspects of the craft. I have experienced a lot of joy as a result of this little yarn crawl and for that I am grateful.

Sarah Dramstad is an elementary music teacher by day and a chaotic crocheter by night. She lives in Helena with her husband, their two daughters, and her squash arch.