Holland Lake Overlook

I am hiking with two friends to a high lookout in the Swan Valley. It is steep--4 miles and 4,000+ feet . . . and my lungs and legs tire quickly of the up, up, up, the constant incline that rarely gives us relief. It is a perfect August day, bright and blue and warm, and the sun pours its golden morning light on us as we push our feet, our legs, our bodies forward--and upward.

I get frustrated sometimes, while hiking. I get frustrated when my body doesn't work as well as I want it to, when it tires, when blisters form, when my breath comes short and my legs ache. I get angry at silly things. I start thinking things like, "I didn't know this was going to be such a steep trail! I hate this constant up up up! It's dumb! What's the point? I'm not sure I would have done this if I'd known exactly what was involved!" . . . etc.

I find myself complaining, getting grumpy. Because I am with other people, I try (sort of) to be positive. I pause occasionally to look around me--there's meadowrue, seed pods dangling. I glance at clumps of fireweed, the brightness of goldenrod, the beautiful mottled green of the mountain stretching above me. But then I notice the trail switching back and forth across the face, a continuous upward climb with no level space in sight. This mountain seems to get higher with each turn, each switchback--and we are no closer to the top. Or so it seems.

Grumpy me.

I know better--I know the view will probably be nice; indeed, as I look out over the valley behind me, and the backs of the Mission Mountains, I am in awe of the beauty. We are high. Holland Lake glimmers blue and green below us, and Seeley Lake comes into view as we trudge ever higher. In the shade of a Ponderosa pine we come across a patch of fresh huckleberries and wortleberries, and their bright juicyness surprises my tongue, lightens my senses.

Up, up, up.

We pause at a switchback so I can strip off my sock and apply a bandaid and moleskin to my blister, which is already the size of a quarter and filled with fluid. Ouch. I walk gingerly, doing my best to keep from rubbing my left heel any more than possible. We are in the sun now, on an exposed south-facing slope, and the sweat trickles down my face and my back.

There is a sudden sharp turn and there, just above us, is the roof of a dilapidated fire cabin--the cabin that sits on top of the ridge, the cabin that marks the end of our trek. We are nearly there. I limp up the suddenly rocky slope--I can see the top of the ridge--I crest the ridge--and there, before me, stretched out like an infinite banner, is wilderness.

I see mountain after mountain reaching to the horizon. I can see miles upon miles into pure wilderness: rocky slopes, alpine lakes, subalpine larches, far-off ridges dark with distance, a few patches of snow. My eyes are dazzled by green and brown, grey and white, and the oh-so-blue of sky. I turn, slowly, and see the Missions stretching out behind me, the whole vast landscape laid out before me like a feast. My eyes drink it up greedily, all 360 glorious degrees of it. Aching legs and blistered heels are forgotten as I gaze at the bright world around me. The breeze cools my face, the sun beats down on my hair, and I bask in the light and wind dancing around me.

Oh, beautiful, wonderful, wild Montana. I feel contentment pour into me like water: I could stay here forever. I could stay here forever.

Wintry Fun

Ah, yes, time for another post. Yikes, this is long due!!

So Greg's birthday was at the beginning of January, and what better way to celebrate than to drive up to Chief Joseph Pass for a celebratory ski? The weather was stunning--freezing cold (as in, -5 degrees) and gorgeous blue skies and sunshine. We skied in the late afternoon as the sun was going down, and its rays lit the snow-laden trees with brilliant light.



There's a lot of snow up there!



Look closely--there are TWO poles here!



Is this heaven? . . . no, it's Montana. Ahhh.



Posing for the camera . . .



Sadly, our 3 liters of water were undrinkable, as the water in the drinking tube froze solid. Greg tried, though!



The requisite self-portrait.



We haven't had much snow lately, but in late December and early January it was nice to snuggle up indoors and watch the snow fly outside:



My street, just before Christmas.



This is back up at Chief Joseph Pass--we took Beth and Britta and their aunt Darla up to ski there, and were blessed with another glorious sunny day!



Still lots of snow up there.



Britta and Darla basking in the sunshine . . . and taking pictures, of course!



We've also had fun contra dancing lately. The last Missoula dance was a black-and-white themed one, so we went to the costume store to buy appropriate garb for Greg. The galabeeyah was perfect!



Last weekend Greg and I headed over to Bozeman for the Wintergreen contra dance festival. Once again, the theme of the dance was black-and-white . . . a black-and-white inaugural ball, graced by President Obama himself! Of course I had to get a picture.



And Greg and I were resplendent in our costumes--he was told by several dancers that he was the belle of the ball! And he was, oh, he was.



This coming weekend promises more fun--we're heading over to Spokane for Greg's dad's retirement party. Bill and Becky are also celebrating their 40th wedding anniversary, so it will be a fun, full weekend!

In the meantime, the job searching continues. Wish me luck! Right now I'm writing skits for a children's radio show and doing a little babysitting, but insha'allah something more consistent will make its way to me soon. Insha'allah. Cheers to the possibilities!

It's that time . . . for an update!

So many good updates! The most exciting one is that I defended my thesis last Friday, and I am now a Master of Science! And there was much rejoicing. :) I do have a few small changes to make, but besides that, I am finished. After 3 1/2 years of working, I have gotten my degree. I feel good!



I also have a lovely little Christmas tree, plucked from the hills just outside of Hamilton, MT. As my roommate said, it makes our living room look like Christmas. Greg and I decorated it with ornaments from my childhood, as well as a few origami creations. It looks beautiful.






Thanksgiving was lovely--besides finding lovely little Christmas trees we went hiking to the beautiful Blodgett Canyon overlook, which was wild and mysterious in mist and snow, and we of course ate a perfectly decadent dinner, put together by 10 talented cooks. Mmm, good!







The other night, we had an artistic evening, making origami (it's a miracle we even succeeded in finishing any of the pieces, since the book we were using was not particularly useful in showing ALL the necessary steps) and fingerpainting exuberantly on large pieces of cardboard. It was good to have some creative release.






So, good things are happening. I'm looking for a steadyish job, though I'm managing to pick up a few random things here and there, and hey, I can always donate plasma! We're waiting for a good snowfall here, too--I and my friends are itching to get out on our skis! This weekend looks to be promising . . .

Christmas blessings to everyone!

ELECTION DAY PARTY!

I started off the day by appropriately garbing myself:



After walking around downtown for most of the day, getting lunch, drooling over amazing shoes in Hide & Sole, and poking around in pawn shops, Greg and I headed to Bernice's to meet Beth and Britta and plan for our election day festivities. We went to the store and armed ourselves with the necessities: baguette, wine, the makings of some kick-ass nachos, and such contraband as Jamison's and Bailey's . . .

Despite the cheering polls from the previous few weeks, we were all a little nervous at the possible outcome. It wasn't particularly likely that the country would vote for a Republican president after the happenings of the past eight years, but we didn't dare to feel over-confident.



Basil remained pretty chill, however.



Michelle was hoping for a landslide victory for Obama, and her confidence infected us.



Of course, we had to break into the whiskey. Note: Jamison's + Bailey's = about the darned best drink you've ever had. Wowza.



Though I also had to finish off my wine . . . double-fisting was the only way to go!



We sat in my living room, munching our massive plate of nachos and watching the map turn blue and red, waiting impatiently for voting booths to close across the country. But even early on, the numbers were heartening.



And then . . . and then . . . the words we'd been longing to hear:

BARACK OBAMA IS PRESIDENT-ELECT!!!



That's when the party REALLY started.



(Note that the whiskey bottle is EMPTY.)






Cheers, everyone, to the next four (or, insh'allah, EIGHT!) years!

Oh, These Autumn Days . . .

I do so love this time of year. The weather is beautiful, blue skies and cool breezes and crisp morning air, and the trees turning brilliant golds and oranges and reds. All the colors seem so vivid, and they surround me, dazzling my vision. I'm sitting in my apartment right now with the windows closed and the doors open, and I can see golden, green and brown leaves shivering in the sunlight out the front door, and green leaves and blue sky out the back door, and a pleasantly cool breeze flowing through the house. Mmm.

Life is good, so good. I have time to eat good food, spend time with the people I love, visit beautiful places, write, dream, sleep, cuddle with my cat, drink tea, laugh, play games, walk beneath the stars, do yoga, dance . . . I am enjoying this time. I know that eventually I will have to, once again, find gainful employment, that this idyll cannot last indefinitely--but I'm certainly enjoying it while it does!

A few pictures from the past few weeks:

Views of the Mission mountains from the Blue Mountain trail:



An autumn trail at Blue Mountain:


Greg eating breakfast by the flowers we bought at the Hamilton farmer's market:


Um, right, we were just packing for a weekend . . . but really, we needed all of it!


A hike up to Glen Lakes to see the larches changing color (one of Greg's yearly rituals):


Gorgeous golden larches at their larchiest!


. . . just a tad twitterpated . . .


The Glen Lakes area burned two years ago:


Ponderosa pine root:


Sunset view of the Bitterroot Valley:


Beth and Britta are back in town! All of us are gloriously unemployed and enjoying ourselves immensely. Last week we spent a day laying out in the sun, reading and writing and relaxing:


Britta catching some rays:


ALL of us came out on the roof to sprawl in the sun:


Last weekend Greg, Beth, Britta and I went down to Hamilton and spent a few marvelously relaxing days at Greg's parents' house.

My wonderfully (and perpetually) goofy Greg:


Bethie and I, looking stunningly gorgeous, as always:


We spent Friday hiking up Blodgett Canyon:


. . . and it rained on us, twice. Fortunately Beth and Britta were well-equipped with their $1 rain ponchos. Beware the poncho monster!




Blodgett Creek:


A little garter snake we found by the trail (who knew they had such beautiful shades of red and orange?):


Fall colors bursting forth:


Indigo blue--a rare color to find in nature! A bead berry (I think!) hidden among the leaves:


My compadres smirking at two 'macho' hiker guys sporting bear bells. Hee! (Whoops, they heard us mocking them and silenced the bells while they walked past us. Hee! again.)


Oh, Montana, how I love thee! Oh, Montana in autumn, how beautiful thou art!
Mmm.