I love this time of year.
Of course, I seem to love every time of year as it arrives. I love the changing of the seasons, the constant renewal and new beginnings as we cycle through the year. These past several weeks have been weeks of rain. This is not a normal thing for Missoula. We'll get some rain in the spring, of course, but 16 days straight of rain? Rare, very rare. As a result, everything is incredibly verdant, and I am reveling in it. Our garden is growing enthusiastically, as are the wildflowers on the hills, and, unfortunately and inevitably, the noxious weeds. C'est la vie.
Spring is also a time to get out the tents, thermarests, and other camping gear, as the weather warms up just enough for us to get out into the wilderness. Some pictures from our spring excursions:
We took our first camping trip of the year to a little Forest Service campground on Rock Creek, about 30 minutes away from Missoula, and enjoyed a lovely, sunny weekend of relaxation:
Of course we had to take a bit of an amble in the woods:
and stop to admire all the lovely wildflowers, including the lovely Calypso bulbosas, or fairy slipper orchids.
Our next camping trip was a little less . . . dry. Over Memorial Day weekend a huge wet system moved in, covering most areas within a day's drive of Missoula. "How about the Rocky Mountain front?" Forecast: 4o degrees and snow. "Central Washington?" 51 degrees and torrential rain. "Oregon?" Rain. "Yellowstone?" Cold and rain. "Idaho?" Cold and rain, possibly snow. "Utah?" 95 degrees and sunny . . . but oh, wait, it's a 12-hour drive.
We wanted to camp somewhere, so we finally decided to head down into Idaho and brave the weather. The first night was a little drizzly, but not too bad, and the next day we took a hike in the misty cool mountains, feeling as though we were hiking through Ireland or northern England.
We were well equipped with our rain gear, at least!
It was truly lovely to amble up and over and amongst the hills, in this wild and untamed piece of Idaho.
The wildflowers were stunning. We saw too many for me to remember, though we stopped, examined, and admired them all. Thanks to my wonderful Greg we (and by "we" I mean "Greg") were able to identify most of them; here's a little rain-dampened phlox. I could post pictures of 25 more flowers, but I'll spare you. :)
Mmmm . . .
We then drove farther south, past Salmon, down to the Pahsimeroi River valley, where we drove along a little dirt road up into the mountains, where our gazetteer promised us a Forest Service campground. After splashing through a stream or two and a large puddle, we came to the end of the road . . . and the campground, which had only two sites, tucked between Morse Creek and the hills. The sun came out, and we went on another pleasant amble, checking out the territory for the hikes we hoped to take on the following days. Then we set up camp and started dinner.
I think I may have a landscape crush on Idaho . . .
Britta built the fire
while Beth updated her nature journal
and Greg popped a Cold Smoke (okay, okay, so the rest of us did, too!),
and I took pictures of everyone. :)
We ate supper in the sunshine. And then it began to rain, so we moved under the tarp we'd hung from two trees and the truck. And then it began to rain harder, so we packed up the dishes and food box into the truck, and dashed into the tent to stay warm and dry.
And then the tent started leaking. And then it started hailing/graupeling. So we went outside to wipe the hail from the tent, had a minor incident during which half the tent collapsed, eventually got it stable again, and dashed back inside to thaw numb fingers and toes. Water was seeping in under the floor, as well as through parts of the roof and walls, so we moved all our sleeping gear to the middle and decided to just tough it out . . . don't I look tough?
We slept fairly well, though it rained all through the night, though it seemed to let up every once in awhile. Beth and Greg made sure to check the creek level, as we didn't want to get washed away in a flash flood. Or crushed by a falling tree. Or eaten by a bear. Or stuck in the campground, unable to get out past the washed-out road. Or . . .
Okay, so it was a rather long night. But morning came at last . . .
and we woke up to this:
Not to mention wet sleeping bags/gear/clothing. So we decided to pack up, throw everything in a sodden heap in the back of the truck, and head back to civilization for the rest of the weekend, civilization being a decadent brunch at a diner in Salmon and two days at Greg's parents' house and hot tub in Hamilton.
The drive out offered some pretty spectacular scenery:
We are all determined to go back sometime soon, on a weekend when there is no hint of snow in the forecast!
On Sunday we went on a hike up Bass Creek--the same hike that Greg and I took on our first date, about two years ago. Of course, it was a beautiful bluebird day.
We scrambled off the trail to sit at the base of a waterfall pouring over the rock above us, a perfect place to eat lunch (aside from the ticks, that is).
The waterfall dries up later in the summer, but there was still enough snowmelt for us to enjoy it.
I have no idea what everyone is laughing about . . . but it must have been funny.
Oh, to walk in the woods is a lovely thing. Here's to many more outdoor adventures in the coming months!

