BOZEMAN, Mont. — Stuck on a snowy sidewalk for hours after polls closed, voters in a Montana college town created an encouraging vibe as they moved slowly through a line leading to the ballot boxes inside the county courthouse.

They huddled under blankets and noshed on chips, nuts and pizza handed out by volunteers. They swayed to an impromptu street DJ, waved glow sticks and remembered a couple of truths: This is a college town and hanging out late at night for a good cause is fun — even in the teeth-chattering cold.

R-r-r-Right?

Hardy residents of Bozeman, Montana, queued along Main Street by the hundreds on election night, with Democrats, Republicans and independents sharing a not-so-brief moment of camaraderie and warmth to close out an otherwise caustic election season.

Among them, clad in a puffy down jacket and a thin pair of gardening gloves, was Davor Danevski, a 38-year-old tech worker. By early Wednesday morning, he’d waited almost five hours.

“The last two elections I missed because I was living abroad in Europe. I didn’t want to miss a third election,” said Danevski. “Too many people don’t take it as seriously as they should.”

Polls closed at 8 p.m. The last ballot was cast at 4 a.m. by an undoubtedly committed voter.

The long wait traces to a clash of Montana’s recent population growth and people who waited until the last minute to register to vote, change their address on file or get a replacement ballot. Many voters in the hometown of Montana State University were students.

The growth of Gallatin County — up almost 40% since 2010 — meant the 10 election workers crammed into an office were woefully insufficient to process all the last-minute voter registrations and changes.

“The building’s just not set up … It’s not designed to hold all the people that Gallatin County has now for every election. So we need to do something about that,” County Clerk Eric Semerad said of the structure built in 1935.

As darkness descended, flurries swirled and temperatures plunged into the 20s (minus 15 degrees Celsius), Kael Richards, a 22-year-old project engineer for a concrete company, took his place with a friend at the back of the line.

He appreciated the food and hand warmers given out before he finally cast his vote at 1 a.m. By then, he estimated, he had been lined up between seven and eight hours.

“The people down there were super nice,” Richards said Wednesday. “We thought about throwing in the towel but we were pretty much at the point that we’ve already been here, so why not?”

The county clerk asked county emergency officials to help manage the crowd since it was snowing. They shut down a road by the courthouse and set up tents with heaters inside. “It was brilliant,” Semerad said.

The line’s precise length was hard to measure as it snaked along the sidewalk, into the road and through the tent. It continued up the courthouse steps, jammed through a doorway, wrapped around an open lobby, up some more stairs, between rows of glass cases filled with historic artifacts and finally into the office of late-toiling election workers.

In past elections, lines have gone past midnight, but never as late as Tuesday’s, Semerad said. Many waiting could have stepped out of line and cast provisional ballots but chose to stick it out.

As midnight came and went Danevski stood patiently waiting his turn to start up the courthouse steps. For him, the long hours were worth it.

“If you can, you should always try to vote,” he said.

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Gruver reported from Cheyenne, Wyoming.