She is from Sedona, Arizona. We adopted her on February 4, 2013. We named her Ginny Elote. She’s lived in Oregon, New Hampshire, Montana, California, Washington and Mexico. She has brought us many bundles of joy. Here is her story.

This story goes back even farther than February 4, 2013. This is a story of bonding. A story of women. A story with depth that is not measurable.

I was in Sedona Arizona for the Sedona Marathon.  It was a reunion of old girlfriends who had raised our children together in Darby, Montana.  A couple of us have stayed in Darby and the rest have moved on.  We’ll always have these ties that bond us even if we don’t see each other that often.

Mary lived in Flagstaff at the time, we all congregated at her house for the first night. Deborah, Yoko, Debbie, Mary and myself. We have a history. Sitting at ball games together. Traveling to away games together. Spending holidays and birthdays together. And, raising our children together. The five of us have a combined total of 12 children. We’ve seen each other through the hurdles of life. And even though I rarely connect with them anymore. I still feel a sisterhood that will withstand time.

We stayed in a time share just outside of Sedona. Sedona was the draw and the marathon was the excuse. I ran……no, I participated in the half marathon (lots of hills), the rest of them participated in the 5K (Yoko’s exercise routine includes not sweating).

We read a Barbara Kingsolver book before the trip and had a book club one evening. We ate out at Elote, a restaurant which I highly recommend if it is still there. Yoko bought us all shots of tequila. We hiked, Debbie stayed by the car, as she is not comfortable with elevation. We shopped, I stayed by the car, I’m not comfortable with shopping.

We talked about our grown children and where they were in life. We talked about being good mothers, too good in fact as we did not have one single grandchild among us.

NO babies we preached when they were in high school. GO to college we preached when they graduated high school.

Still no babies; they were out pursuing successful careers, or higher education, masters degrees, law school. Only one among them was married at the time.

While shopping at Garland’s Jewelry in Oak Creek Canyon just north of Sedona, Mary had her eye on a broach……. Is that the right word? A pendent?….. I don’t know; a piece of silver with a stone all resembling a woman in an artistic kind of way with a stick pen attached to its back. I do admit it was stunning. And stunningly priced as well. Mary’s eyes got big as an idea formed in her head.

We’ll all buy it.

Together.

Oh the ideas started flowing as the man behind the desk watched us create a plan to buy this piece of jewelry.

She’ll bring us grandchildren.

She’ll be our grandchildren totem.

Grandmother’s In Need. G.I.N. ……We’ll name her Ginny.

Ginny Elote, Deborah said. We all screamed Ginny Elote!

We’ll get her a journal, I said. To travel with her.

Who gets her first?

Oh, yes, who for sure?

Debbie……. She has the oldest child among us and he’s the one that is married. Most likely to have children first. We bought broach. This was not in my budget. I pitched in my share. I wanted to be a grandmother too. We bought the journal. Debbie packed it all up in her bag and took Ginny to Oregon.

It worked. Ginny produced. The babies started coming and yes Debbie did have the first, then the second and even the third before Ginny started traveling to other parts of North America.

But wait. There is more to the story. Eleven months after our trip to Sedona, Debbie’s first grandchild was born. Seventeen months later Debbie had her second grandchild. Then there was a very long dry spell. The longest we’ve had.

Ginny had been lost.

Unbeknownst to the rest of us, Debbie had lost Ginny. She searched and searched. Her last memory of Ginny had been on her backpack while flying to Montana. Debbie never found her. She had to do something as no one was having grandchildren. Debbie found our pictures from the Sedona trip. She found a silver smith in Arizona. The silver smith created an exact replica of original Ginny and that was when Debbie told us of the missing Ginny. Once Ginny was recreated and in the hands of Debbie, another grandchild was announced. Ginny to the rescue after a three year drought. Another grandchild for Debbie. After that Ginny was a traveling fool. Back and forth across the country she traveled. A baby born, another pregnancy announced.

Ginny is magical. As of today, we all have at least one grandchild. We mail Ginny back and forth and sometimes hand deliver. Debbie has the most grandchildren with seven. Last summer we exchanged in person from me to Mary at Deborah’s daughter’s wedding.

Ginny is currently in Montana with Deborah who is expecting a grandson this summer. He will be the fourteenth grandchild for Ginny.

We are planning our reunion trip. Winter 2025 to Mexico. The five of us; LaLa, Baba, MarMar, Mimi and Oma.

More great stories can be found at Wild About Books. Bonus news: I’ve also compiled all of my adventures into a book which is coming out very soon.

I woke up on April 6, also known as Montana Day; 406; the area code for the whole state. Most states can not have a day based on their area code. Most states have more than one area code. I suppose part of North Carolina could celebrate on September 19 and part of North Carolina could celebrate on March the 36th. Here in Montana, the whole state has reason to pop another beer and celebrate on April 6th.

It was a Saturday as well. And Skiesta at Lost Trail Powder Mountain. And there was 5 inches of new snow. And they had been closed on Thursday and Friday due to rain. So Saturday April 6th was like Powder Thursday on a Saturday. All the signs were saying go snowboarding.

The Skiesta theme this year was Hippies and Cowboys, costumes were encouraged. We arrived early for first tracks, as we always do. The parking lot was already filling up. Part of the filling up fast parking lot was because a large chunk of the parking was roped off for the band stand, the bon fire and the food trucks.

You knew it was a special day because the two parking lot boys were the owner, Scott and a grey bearded balding man we’d never seen before. The parking was efficient and spacious. Way better than when the morning stoners are in charge of parking. The ticket window had not yet opened and we stood in line watching the people in their tie dyed shirts and cowboy hats and JEANS. These people are serious. Skiing in jeans for the party theme. And beer for breakfast seemed to be another theme.

The first few runs of the day were amazingly great. Just enough snow to cover up the weird ass rained on sun baked base. At least for the first couple of hours any way. Thunder run top to bottom on April 6! And everyone was in a great mood. It was the last weekend for the Lost Trail employees who had smiles all around.

We stopped for an early lunch at the lodge before treking over to chair four to check out the SacJac trees.

There was a long line by the time we got to chair four. It was getting icy. There were too many people congregating where you dismount from chair four. The dismount was icy. It’s already a tricky dismount on a good day. Steep. Short. I’ve been know to take out the safety fencing before. I was getting grumpy. It was time for me to be done. It’s not easy getting back to the lodge from chair four especially when everything is turning icy, especially on a snow board where you rely on a constant decent. I chose to walk from chair three to the car instead of taking chair five and the rope tow. I looked back and there were many people following my lead.

Back at the lodge the party had started. The music was blasting. People were dancing. It was warm enough to be outside. By the time Brett got back to the lodge people were climbing Charlie Brown to get in line for the pond skim.

Each year for Skiesta the Lost Trail Crew dig a pool in the snow, maybe three to four feet deep and 60 feet long and 10 feet wide. They line the pool with plastic and then the local fire departments bring up their water tenders and fill up the pool. It takes a lot of water. The fire trucks make several trips back down the mountain to fill up their tanks out of a local creek and back up the mountain to add it to the pond skim pool. All of the snow that is removed for the pool is turned into snow bleachers for the crowd. Just before the start of the event the crew had to break up the ice that had formed on the surface of the water and remove it.

The crowd quickly filled in the snow bleachers and lined up on along the roped off area to watch. The brave people were at the end where the skiers/snowboarders would have to come to an immediate stop after successfully skimming the pond, instead of wiping out the crowd. There was also a huge possibility of the crowd being splashed or drenched in waves of water.

There were two ski patrol people positioned on each side of the pool to rescue those who wrecked instead of skimming across the pond. The rescue people each had 8 foot long 2 x 2 poles with a dowel through one end for people to hang on to while being pulled out. In years past there was a rescue person wearing fishing waders to come in and get you and skis and hat and any other clothes that had been removed in the wreckage. This year you were given a pole to grab onto. On the pole was hand written in a black sharpie marker “pond skim rescue”. Just in case someone though they were going to use the pole for some other use.

You have to come full speed down Charlie Brown to make it across the pond. Slowing down or turning and you will not make it. Most people don’t. A few make it across and do a flip at the end as they land on the solid snow and the crowd goes wild. It is entertaining. Some people go through backwards, some people do a flip first, some people wear all of their ski gear and some people wear their bathing suits. We left before the end as the wind started to pick up and we were getting cold. The party continued with a bon fire and four bands throughout the rest of the day and night.

But I chose to come home and read. I’m reading this great novel that I want to recommend to you. “Cloud Cuckoo Land” by Anthony Doerr the author of “All the Light We Cannot See” which is also a Wild About Books recommended book. I started “Cloud Cuckoo Land” as a sample on my kindle since I loved “All the Litght We Cannot See”. But Doerr’s new novel starts as a futuristic sci-fi which is not a genre I lean towards even slightly. I moved on to other books. But then Carol told me she enjoyed “Cloud Cuckoo Land” and then another bookclub member recommended it at the March meeting. I found it at the library and gave it another try. Glad I did. This is really an incredible and smart novel. It does bounce around a lot, not a ‘beach book’. If you already read “Sun House” or “The Over Story” you are in the right mindset for reading “Cloud Cuckoo Land”. Don’t worry it’s all going to come together just keep reading as you follow the characters from modern day to 1430 Constantinople to a future space traveling commune. It is an amazing journey. I’m about half way through and it the story keeps getting better. I highly recommend “Cloud Cuckoo Land” by Anthony Doerr.

More great book recommendations and adventures can be found at Wild About Books.

Today I turned in a letter of resignation. 

It’s no surprise. I started a plan of retiring when one of my spiritual littermates retired after having worked with him for a decade. I needed a carrot. That was six years ago. People would laugh when I gave them my retirement date of October 27, 2024; the day I turn 60 and can collect my public employee’s retirement. It seemed so scripted to most people. It seemed like a great plan to me. It seemed so far away. And now here we are 2024. 

But I can’t make it to the end of October. 

Let’s back up a bit because this whole story will culminate into a book recommendation.

One of the adult education classes that is being offered this semester is based on the book “The Artist’s Way, A Spiritual Path to Creativity” by Julia Cameron. The copy I ordered is the 30th anniversary edition. I signed up for the class. 

The first class was inspirational; listening to one of the participant’s story of not only using the method as described in the book but having met the author as well. Actually, everyone in the group had a great story for being in the class. 

The first and probably foundational step in the book is “Morning Pages”. Morning pages is a journaling method. Every morning you write for three full pages. You throw up your random thoughts onto the paper. A brain drain. You don’t stop writing. No editing, no spell check. Even if you have to write; “I don’t know what to write”. Keep writing. 

At first I wrote fast and had to remind myself that this is not timed writing. No matter how fast I write I still have to write three pages. So I slowed down. I’ve not had any problem filling up three pages. I’ve written every morning. The writing is therapeutic. It may start out as a bitch session, but it ends up as a resolution. A culmination of answers. Solutions. Closure. Release.

One of the lessons is to be aware of the universe (or a higher power or God; your choice). 

What do I mean? 

I think just be aware and observant. Watch for serendipitous events. Pay attention. That’s it. Pay attention.

My first day of morning pages I bitched about my job. It had been a tough day the day before. My job has been good to me over the years, but it has never BEEN who I am. It definitely didn’t define me. When I meet someone new and they ask me what I do (as everyone does so they can define you). I would reply; I mountain bike, backpack, cross country ski, snow board, read, write, cook, hike, white water raft…..that’s what I do….. No; they say….. What do you do? Oh…. you mean for money?

The second day of morning pages started out as bitching about my job. And then it evolved into a plan. A plan to leave earlier than my planned retirement. I have enough sick/vacation hours to cash out to get me from the end of my current contract of June 30 to my retirement date. We’re just talking about a few months. But it felt good to come up with a plan. I would share this plan with my team next week and get their feed back.

Nope. That’s not how it happened. The afternoon of my day two of morning pages we had an impromptu meeting to discuss budgets and shuffling personnel. As we talked I realized my plan I’d hatched just hours before was coming to fruition right before my very eyes. The universe was unfolding everything in my favor. I was speechless as I listened to my co-workers talk.

Wait, I said. Here’s the deal. I told them about morning pages. I told them my plan. In the personnel shuffle, we would hire a person to come and train with me for the rest of my time. I was floored. I was smiling. I was standing taller. 

My job is constantly evolving. It is bigger than me. It has become more than I can or want to handle. I’m burnt out. I’m over it. There is so much red tape, so much bullshit. I’m no help. I’m bad energy for the rest of the team. It is time to move on. This has been a hard job. I’ve always felt as if there is a title wave building building building building and would crash on me. Why did I stay? Why did I do it? I didn’t want to wake up one day and be 60 years old and have a dead end job. I stayed. I went to trainings. I trained four virgin superintendents in their positions. I learned and then legislature would change the laws. I learned and the politics changed. Why is a state school superintendent a partisan position? Our state voted for the party not the qualified person. All the good people left at the state level. Jumped the sinking ship. Where did those people go? The super majority has implemented laws that require me to hire more administrative people instead of more teachers. I thought that particular group was into less government. No one is going to school to be a teacher. It’s not an easy career to get started in. I have teachers who live in campers. One lived in his car last year. They live with their parents. They can’t afford to rent. 

I started Darby school as a volunteer in 1993. I was the swish and spit mom. Yep. I delivered poison to elementary children to keep their teeth healthy. We don’t have fluoride in our water. Yoko and I would bring our three year olds with us and pour fluoride into tiny cups. We would pass out fluoride to the students to swish in their mouths and spit back out. Here come the swish and spit moms; a second grade teacher announced. The next year I signed up to be a substitute teacher. Oh boy. The next year I applied for a part time position to help the business manager and to take the lunch money. Now I was known as “a lunch lady”. 

Several years later I was interviewed on the playground and became the high school secretary. This job was usually fun and I enjoyed being everyone’s assistant mom. They must have enjoyed me as well. I was asked to be the speaker at the graduation of the class of 2008, my daughter’s class. Still makes my skin tingle to think about it.

I left when my youngest graduated. Had three years of career adventures. Nine glorious days at Halo Heaven, a year building recumbent bikes, and a few stints of collecting unemployment. I even tried substitute teaching again. Oh boy.

Then in 2011, I came back to the school. The current business manager/district clerk was creating her retirement plan and needed to train someone to fill her spot of wearing many, many hats. I was told by other school BM’s that it took five years to feel comfortable in the position. They were correct. It took five years until the crying stopped. But I had a career; a salary; benefits; and for the first time ever, prescription migraine medicine.  

It has been a journey. I’ve quit many times in my head. I’ve gone through four superintends, a few payroll clerks, many high school secretaries, had three different offices, and have gone through a LOT of school board members. There was copious amounts of laughter, slapped the ass of one superintendent, lost a leg wresting match with Tom, the UPS guy, played office pickleball where there are no rules, you can play off the file cabinets, walls and conference table and you’ll know when you scored a point.

When I took on this position I quickly realized I was not one of the fun kids anymore. I was placed on another level where people whispered if I was in the room. I had to stop going to co-worker social gatherings. I was putting a damper on the fun. I was balancing the job of being know by the staff as “the receipt nazi” and reporting to the board when the annual audit “ding” was from insufficient back up for the bills (also known as receipts). Yeah. Not me.

As I enter 2024, I’m ready for a new life. A life with more fun, more adventures, more freedom, more serendipitous moments. I’m not at work today and decided to spent that time here in my home office, listening to Caamp on Pandora, Ruth my cat rubbing up against my arm, writing and creating and I realize, this is who I am. This is who I’m meant to be.

The book recommendation is “The Artist’s Way; A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity” by Julia Cameron

Other great book recommendations and life adventures can be found at Wild About Books.

One week later; the three of us were on the road again. Heidi, Nathan and me. This time Heidi and I were official United States Department of Agriculture volunteers. That meant we were able to ride in the forest service vehicle. We left early for the almost 3 hour drive to Corn Creek on the Salmon River. Half of the drive is on a not well maintained, winding, narrow River Road along the Salmon River. With rock cliffs on one side and a steep drop into the river on the other side. The road dead ends at Corn Creek where the trailhead begins. This is also the “put in” for the Frank Church Wild and Scenic River of No Return also know as the Salmon River. If any one asks Heidi or me where we go to church, we reply, “I go to the Frank; the Frank Church. I’ve floated this multi-day stretch of the Salmon River many times and have even camped at our destination, but I’ve never hiked to Lantz Bar.  

The plan was to hike in the 12 miles and camp in the forest service cabin. Nathan had gotten word that the cabin lock had been broken off, the door to the cabin was broken as well. He grabbed a new padlock before we left his office.

He also had to turn off the irrigation to the apple orchard. Turn off as in remove the gravity feed hose from the side creek so that water stopped flowing to the orchard.

Lantz Bar is an old homestead and a very large fruit orchard, mostly apples. This 90 mile section of the Salmon River is famous for its growing season. Lots of fruit trees and wild berry bushes along the whole section. 

Nathan had told us that this cabin had metal cots and mattresses. To me and Heidi this sounded like a very disgusting sleeping set up. We prepared ourselves by bringing the ground covers to our tents with the hope that we could sleep out on the ground or at least use the ground covers to cover up the mattresses. 

This hike was much warmer than the weekend before. As a matter of fact our two warmest backpacking trips this year were the May Salmon River and the October Salmon River. We had on shorts and short sleeve shirts in the middle of October. 

The only issue with the Salmon River is the jet boats. It is a Wild and Scenic River, which means no roads, no electricity, no mechanized vehicles. But the jet boat was grandfathered in. You can float the river to any point and until the water gets to low, hire a jet boat to take you and your gear back to your truck and trailer. And in the case of mid October, if you have a lot of money, you can have your own personal jet boat (it uses jet fuel) to cruise up and down and through class V rapids. They are loud and can be heard coming way before you see them. I worry about the noice and the wildlife. How do the fish stand it? How do the birds and otters deal with it. We’re in the middle of the largest wilderness area in the lower 48 and have to listen to jet boats. 

The hike in was great. Half way in I realized I’d forgotten Clorox wipes. Again.

 We found random apple trees on the trail and went bat shit crazy over the apples which was funny since we were going to spend the night in an old apple orchard. It was a long day and I was ready to get to camp about an hour before we got there. 

The old homestead sits up on a bench above the river. The entire place is apple trees. I think there were some pear trees too. Our idea to sleep outside was squashed as the ground was covered in rotten apples and bear shit. The whole place smelled like sweetness. I’m surprised all of the wildlife was not in attendance chowing down on all this fruit. 

The cabin door had been broken. Nathan took it off the hinges and we helped him rig up a temporary but nice fix so that the door was usable and lockable. Then we helped him pull the irrigation device out of the creek. The apple trees were on their own for water until next spring. The cabin was small. The rodents were big and well fed and left lots of sign that had to be swept out. I sat out in the orchard sucking down some electrolytes to stop a migraine while I listened to Heidi and Nathan set up house. The metal bed frames were hanging on the walls. There were three of them. No one was going to have to sleep on a table this time. They made a horrible noice as the rusting metal legs were being unfolded and set up on the concrete floor. The mattresses were rolled up and hanging from the beams. Nathan and Heidi awkwardly released them from their hanging spot and unrolled them onto the metal frames.

“If this were a hotel; I’d be out of here…..” I heard Heidi say. ”Was someone murdered on these. Ugh”. 

We wrapped our mattresses with the tent ground cloth before adding our sleeping pads and sleeping bags. Nathan found newspapers in a drawer and covered his mattress with newspapers. 

We didn’t have to cross a creek this time. It was so warm that Heidi and Nathan both found an opportunity to polar plunge in the river. I got my feet wet. The river was freezing. I don’t know how they do it. 

It was so warm, not only did we not make a fire in the wood stove we left the door open all night. 

I waited for a long time for someone to get up and go pee. I couldn’t wait any longer. I quietly got up, opened the screen door and stepped outside. I walked away from the cabin and found a place to pee. It was quiet and serene. Then I heard movement in the cabin. And then as if they’d been up for hours; “did she go without us?’ The hustled their way out the door. Gang toity! Everyone slipping on rotten apples and bear poop looking for a pee spot. I laughed out loud. I love these hiking buddies. 

We did end up making a fire in the morning and having some breakfast before packing up for the 12 miles out. 

Another beautiful day. It was so perfect. Even the jet boats couldn’t ruin the experience of being outside and enjoying the wilderness, the wildlife and the company. The jet boat people had no idea we were watching them from the trail as they stopped to fish for chinook. 

That wrapped up our backpacking season. We have big plans for next year assuming fire season is non existent again. There’s always a big chance of fire and smoke in the summer. Heidi already ran out of the forest once last year with her pack on running down the trail at 8:00 at night with ash falling on her like snow. You never know what life will bring. Jump on every chance you get. There may not be a next time or a next year. Do it now.

More fun adventures and book recommendations can be found at Wild About Books. 

Palindromic backpacking this year. Our first two trips of the season were on the Salmon River and the Selway River. Our last two trips of the year were the Selway River and the Salmon River. Palindromic.

Go hang a salami I’m a lasagna hog. Also a palindrome. 

The season-ending adventures were truly different than our normal backpacking adventures. Our forest service employee friend, Nate invited us to go with him on two work trips. Nate, aka Nathan, works seasonally as a fish biologist for the forest service. Nathan has made regular appearances here at Wild About Books; Canoeing the Missouri, Backpacking the Grand Canyon and a trip to the Oregon Coast. 

Nathan, Heidi and me. No dogs this time since we were using the forest service cabin. It was weird to pack everything in the car and not take Molly and Juno. The dogs were confused as we loaded up and left them.

October backpacking is my favorite. The colors are changing. The days are cooler. And the nights and creek crossings are down right fringed, but doable. It had been an exceptionally wet summer this past year and the mushrooms were having a hay day. 

Remember; I’m the slow one and I’m the pacemaker in the front and Nathan is on the clock. I walked the fasted I can walk for the whole trip. Practically running. Catching myself with my trekking poles when tripped up. Doing the wide stance hike through the wet gullys formed from hunting guides and their pack strings. When I did stop to pee or drink I would inhale the 360 degree view. It was invigorating for the soul. 

We were hiking a tributary of the Selway River in Idaho, White Cap Creek, which led to the hiking discussion of what is the difference between a creek and a river. You can always have a good conversation with Nathan and Heidi whether you are talking about Rivers vs Creeks or why women put on a pair of panties but only put on one bra. But back to the mushrooms. I was practically running on the trail and every so often I’d hear “what? look at this!” And every time it was a new mushroom or patch of mushrooms. There were so many different looking mushrooms. My favorite were the inverted mushrooms that held water in them like little baby mushroom cups. 

We were only a half mile away from the cabin when we came upon a horrible stench. I mean horrible. Like death. Old death. Old rotten death. We had to cover our mouths and noses just to get by the area.

We reached the cabin, but had to cross White Cap Creek (which looks like a river hence the River vs Creek discussion). I brought my good river sandals, weighing several ounces more than my not good river sandals, in anticipation of this crossing. I have fallen at creek crossings before with a full backpack on and it is an upside down turtle scenario as cold water soaks your clothes and seeps into your water resistant boots. No boot is water resistant when the water is pouring in from the top. The creeks in the Rocky Mountains are rocky and once you fall down, it is difficult to make your self vertical again. So. I brought the good yet heavier river sandals. Heidi went barefoot and Nathan had been in the creeks all day with his already wet neoprene booties. His job is to recover the temperature probes (that he had set out in the spring) before the freeze. The water was freezing ass cold. I could feel my feet numbing out half way across and wanted to walk fast but couldn’t walk fast. I’ve got both treking poles in one hand and my boots stuffed with socks in the other hand. It was four in the afternoon and I knew that this crossing was going to be much warmer than when we cross back tomorrow morning.

The cabin at Cooper’s Flat is a forest service working cabin, not to be confused with a forest service rental cabin. Trail crew and wildlife biologist such as Nathan use this cabin for their jobs. It was stocked with a wood stove, fire wood, emergency items such as first aide and food, warm blankets and two cots, a propane cook stove and pots and pans. There were two doors to get in, a plain old cabin door and a monstrous vault looking door to help keep the bears out. The cabin sits in a large open meadow at the confluence of White Cap Creek and Canyon Creek. We were in Idaho, but right on the Montana border. 

Nathan unlocked the door. The big metal door even squeaked like an old bank vault door. Dang; I thought at first look of the inside; I wish I had brought my Clorox wipes. First we were hit by the smell of rodent droppings and urine combined with the smell of moth balls and stuffiness. We left the doors open and started sweeping up all the rodent shit from the floor, tables, everything that had a surface. Luckily the cots were hanging on the wall. 

The sun was setting and the temperature was dropping quickly. Nathan still had one more probe to fish out of Canyon Creek. We went with him so he could show us where to fill up our water containers. Heidi had brought her two liter water filter bag and filled that up so we wouldn’t have to fill up our little containers on multiple trips to the creek. We were grateful that she packed that in. 

I think Nathan was hoping we would prepare a group meal. Heidi and I knew this cabin would be full of mouse poop (as all cabins in the woods are) and were not interested in using pooped up pots and pans or washing dishes. We told him we’re bringing our JetBoils and just add water backpacking meals. I used my bandana as a table cloth and everything else was on the cot or back in my backpack which I hung from a nail. 

Two cots. Three people. Nathan said he’d sleep on the table. I said I’ll sleep on the table, I’m the shortest. He said no and moved some boxes around to make his table bed longer. It looked horrible and where are the Clorox wipes? We got the wood stove roaring so that we could sit with the door open and not feel so claustrophobic and dark. The sunset was amazing, there were just enough clouds to make the sky light up with pink and orange and red. By 8:00 we were tucked in and reading. 

Heidi apologized before we all went to sleep, that she would have to open the big loud vault door to go pee. Nathan said he would have to do the same. I said we’d all just go pee together. No big deal. Gang toity Nathan declared. And so we did. Which was good because the stars were more phenomenal than the sunset.  Here we were in the depths of the Selway Bitterroot Wilderness. Miles from any town or road. The stars. So many stars. Nathan and Heidi started pointing and naming planets. We were freezing and ran back into the warm cabin. Actually the cabin must have been 100 degrees, we stopped putting wood on the fire. I fell back to sleep listening to all of the critters scurrying on the porch and the roof hoping none could get into my backpack hanging on the wall. 

Heidi and Nathan got up one more time for a pee, it was five in the morning and past when they usually get up anyway. I could hear them outside even more fascinated with the stars than the first time. The called out to me to come look, but I stayed in my warm sleeping bag. They crawled back into their sleeping bags and read, waiting for me to get up. 

They were so quiet I thought they had gone back to sleep. I laid their being quiet so they could sleep, but no one was sleeping. As soon as I started stirring on the loud cot, with my squeeky blow up sleeping pad they both jumped up and were ready to go. It was still dark out so we were able to go check out the stars one more time. Hot tea for me, hot water with lemon for Heidi and Nathan unwrapped his burrito and set it on the woodstove that the previous day had been covered in mouse poop. I’m sure the hundred degree woodstove killed any of the left over mouse virus. Hot breakfast of rehydrated backpacking meals for me and Heidi. We packed as the sun came out to light up our day. We tidied up the place, split some kindling and cleaned the outhouse before putting on our packs and walking out. The meadow crunched under our feet from the frozen dew on the grasses. It was a very chilly start to our morning. We left the cabin in our water shoes (or in down slippers for Heidi) carrying our warm boots and socks. 

I tried to find a more shallow route to cross White Cap Creek, but it still came up to my knees and I was just happy to make it across up right. We walked fast on the trail where the sun had not reached trying to warm back up. When we got to the stench of death Nathan said he was going down. He had to find out what it was. Heidi and I kept going. We couldn’t be near the smell as it was so permeating and a smell that would take a long time to get out of your nose. We waited for Nathan out of the smell range. 

Dead horse. He said it looked like someone tried to cover it up with branches and trees. Nathan got pictures in order to report it to his office. The rest of the hike out was as enjoyable as coming in. We chatted, we were silent, we were in awe. We peed and snacked and drank water. We arrived back at the truck almost 24 hours later. And we were still deep in the wilderness.

You don’t realize what you have when you connect with people in a way that you want to share these amazing moments. People so apprciative and grateful to have this wildernes experience right in our backyard. I think we take it for granted that this is normal when in reality I think it is an anomaly. The three of us were in sync. I mean jeez we night time peed together. We are spiritually cross pollinators. We are three otherwise very independent introverts who struggle with the hustle and bustle of the modern world and our modern co-habitators of this world.  Maybe it’s not so weird we found each other and enjoy each other’s company. There is no drama, no hierarchy, no patriarchy, we just are. And for that I am grateful and excited for the next weekend to go out with these two again. 

More great adventures and book recommendations can be found at Wild About Books. Share and follow.

It’s been several years since we did Wild About Books Frequently Asked Questions and I need to clean out the question box. So let’s get to it.

What ever happened to Tom the UPS man you wrote about?

Yes, good question. The UPS Man blog post was my most viewed post to date. Next time I’m in The Electric Beach and Hair Studio getting my hair cut I’ll have to ask what happened to Tom (the Electric Beach and Hair Studio seems to be a good resource for all things Darby). Last I heard he got married and took the Sula UPS route and lives in Sula and put on some weight. Now I have all these random UPS drivers that don’t know to leave our packages at the school where I work so they don’t have to drive all the way to the house. These last couple of winters they just stopped coming to the house. Said the road was not drivable. Which was an insult since Brett is the one that plows the road in the winter and we drive up and down it all winter with hardly any issues. They took our packages back to Missoula and said we could pick them up there on Tuesdays between 3:00 and 3:05 or some crazy ass shit like that. Missoula is 90 minutes from the house. If Tom was still my driver, he would have either left my package at my work, or my gym, or The Electric Beach and Hair Studio or the library or Heidi’s. He would not have sent it back to Missoula. I do miss my Tom days. I could be on my bike 20 miles up the West Fork Road, see a brown truck coming from the opposite direction, remove my hands from the handle bars, lift both my shirt and sports bra at the same time and give Tom a full flesh flash on the fly. The Quadruple F. 

Have you thought about turning your blog posts into a book? Yes. That is going to be my project when I retire on October 27, 2024. I’d love to have all of these posts in a book format even if it is just for my grandchildren. I’ve been writing this blog for nine years and it is always fun to go back and randomly re-read them. I’m also planning on taking another online WordPress class. I believe this website building software has advanced a lot since I started using it in 2014.

Do you belong to a book club? Yes and no. My book club disintegrated after a couple of years due to various personality misunderstandings and miscommunications and the fact that everyone dropped out. It has since been reinstated as a no book bookclub. A no host, no book bookclub. We meet once a month at the local brewery for drinks and tacos and discuss books we have read, shows we have watched, podcasts we have listened to. We trade books and share potato chips. There is no pressure to read a book you don’t want to read or worry about coming when you didn’t read the book or read the book and didn’t like the book. I’m really enjoying the format, but I’m also the inventor and facilitator and meeting minute taker and reminder-er.

Have you ever tried Matcha tea? Yes. It is my new go to at the coffee shop. I don’t drink coffee and usually get tea at a coffee shop. I get a matcha tea latte with oat milk and honey in the morning and about 4:00 in the afternoon I start noticing how much energy I have and how good I feel. It’s some kind of miracle tea. It sits well in the belly and makes me want to climb mountains or clean the house.

What is your blog posting schedule? I can’t figure out when the next one is scheduled to come out. Yes, that has been brought to my attention. I wanted to have a schedule and then I didn’t due to the stress that comes with deadlines. It is a conundrum. The blog could keep me on task by promising a specific scheduled time which would be good. But I love to write and don’t want it to be something I dread. Therefore there is no schedule, you get it when you get it. That’s what she said. 

When will you publish your novel? I’d like to read it. Thanks for asking. I don’t know. I just attend a writing conference in Kalispell, Montana and my good friend Scyntya just finished reading the book. Between those two things happening I’m ready to dive back into it. At the conference there were two agents and one of them specializes in literary fiction genre. The other agent gave a great talk on how to produce a query letter and pitch the book. I feel much more confident on the process. Also, my soul sister self published her novella and has made $22.00 and I’m considering that route in order to get the book into the hands of my fans quicker. 

Have you ever used a backpacking bidet? No. But I do own one and I’ve watched instructional videos.

What is your one superfluous item you take backpacking? Nothing, everything I pack is normal fluous. 

Can I go backpacking with you? No……… OK, maybe, but you have to pass an extreme vetting process that you can find in the bylaws. And you have to watch 40 hours of the Youtube channel “Miranda Goes Outside”. Immediate red flags for the vetting committee include; still having tags on your gear; a packed backpack that weighs more than 30 pounds; packing a quart of coffee creamer; planning on “pot luck” style meals; wearing an all cotton outfit; you have never pooped in the woods. Or….. your can pay me $200 a day to be your guide and bidet your ass with a super soaker from 70 feet. 

What’s one thing that people get wrong about you? Oh jeez, that’s a tough question. I’m not sure what people think about me. I don’t really think about what other’s think about me so I wouldn’t know if it was right or wrong. 

What’s the most ridiculous job you’ve ever had? I’d have to say Ticket Taker at a high school sporting event. The job of the ticket taker is doomed from the start.  The job title itself is a lie.   A “ticket taker” takes the money and gives the tickets.  They should be called a “money taker” or a ticket giver”. Also, it never fails that the first 3 groups of people to the event seem to always bring one hundred dollar bills, wiping out your cash box for the rest. They ask me, “Can you break a hundred” And I say; “If you buy 8 tickets I can” They laugh and give me a hundred for two adults and for the rest of the night you look like a fool because you can’t break a ten. Then the rest of the people say; “Who has a cash box with no cash?” My other favorite scenario is the couple that comes in and stares at me with their money.  I charge them twelve dollars for two adults and they get mad because they are seniors citizens and it should be four dollars. I don’t care how long I give tickets, I am never assuming that someone is a senior citizen.

I love reading your writing. Have you ever tried writing poetry? Funny you should ask. I just came across an old draft in my blog that never got published. My poetry is usually juvenile and quirky like Dr. Seuss or Shel Silverstein. But this one was not that way. This was written several years ago before I finally had an endometrial ablation. 

Vicious Cycle

It starts out like a ride at the fair

A kiddie ride, round and round

Then like a carousel

Ups and downs, round and round

You ride like this for years

If you hold on you can manage it

Until the ride is like a bad rollercoaster

With unexpected whiplash turns

Stomach turning ascents

Free falling descents

No rhyme or reason

Just after midnight

You lie awake for hours

Wondering how you’ll work

Make it through the whole day

You smile more

It hides the dark circles

And you never stop

If you keep going

You’ll stay awake

But there’s so much blood

Unscheduled, more often

You know you are anemic

What was the universe thinking

Zombie women

Hoping to get old

End this vicious cycle

Find all kinds of book recommendations and adventures at Wild About Books. 

I left the house at 8:30 yesterday to take Molly to her acupuncture appointment.  I stopped at Suzette’s Organics for a matcha latte. The barista asked what I was up to today and I told her Molly had an acupuncture appointment. Her eyes got big and her face fell as she asked how Molly was doing. She said she thinks about Molly way too often. 

I don’t even know this woman’s name yet she thinks of my dog regularly.

Molly and I arrive at the funky strip mall on the highway not quite in any town, just “in limbo” as I used to tell my kids when they asked where we were on our drive to Missoula. Most of the doors had no business names on them. Brett told me to go to the third door. There was a quilt shop and what looked like a religious place, maybe a strip mall church. Molly and I were early. I opened the tailgate and set up the ramp, put on her one booty to protect her foot and helped her out of the car. She three leg walked dragging the bad leg that would occasionally get tangled up under her. We walked to the back of the building where I told her to pee and she did. We walked the sidewalk in front of the businesses waiting for Linda to arrive. There was a Harley parked on the covered sidewalk in front of the quilt store.  A big burly man with a goatee and leather vest walked by us and commented on how much better Molly is doing. I agreed. I had never met this man I thought as I watched him walk into the quilt store. He knew my dog and knew she was doing better.

Six weeks ago. Brett, Molly and I were on our afternoon walk up Tin Cup. Planning on doing our loop, when Molly started missing a step with her left leg. Then she started dragging it. I heard it first; the sound of her paw dragging on the dirt road. We walk in the forest and Molly always runs free. She doesn’t even wear a collar. Eventually she started walking behind me struggling more and more to use her left leg. Her paw started buckling under or knuckling as we later learned was the term. I realized she was not going to be able to walk home. We were maybe two miles from the house and I told Brett I would run home and get the car. And I did. A run walk in my hiking boots. We got her home and called the new local vet in town. They said they could see her in five minutes. Away we went as we live five minutes from the vet. They took X-rays and could not determine what was wrong. Gave us some options and sent us home with a bottle of ibuprofen. They said she would have to get an MRI to really know what was going on. The nearest pet MRI being in Bozeman or Spokane. Possible surgery after they determined what was wrong and even that might not be the fix. He said to call in the morning if she got worse.

Damn

Next morning; Molly couldn’t use her right leg either. Her whole back end was paralyzed. We called and went back to the vet. Brett carried our 85 pound yellow lab into the vet.

They gave us options again. None of them sounded promising. We took her home. Brett started researching for alternative solutions. He found a holistic veterinarian north of Hamilton. She was able to take Molly that afternoon. It was Friday. Molly and Brett were there for three hours. She did chiropractic work, acupuncture, cranial sacral therapy, laser therapy and prescribed homeopathic remedies. She requested to have Molly’s x-rays to be emailed to her. She set up another appointment for Monday as Brett carried Molly back to the car. Linda send her laser home with Brett to use over the weekend. The next day Linda called and said she would come to our house on Monday so that we wouldn’t have to move Molly. Linda also told us to stop feeding Molly dog food. We’ve been cooking for her ever since. 

Molly saw Linda again at her office on Friday that week after the house call. Brett had set up a chiropractic appointment for himself on the way. Brett’s chiropractor asked him what he’d done and he explained to her what had happened to Molly and he’d been picking her up and carrying her. Mandy asked where Molly was, Brett told her Molly was in the car. Mandy said; “Bring her in, I’ll do her first”. After that Mandy set up another appointment for Molly on Monday morning; before she opens. That night Mandy called Brett and said Monday was too far out; come in tomorrow and she’d meet us at her office on Saturday after her swim at the gym. I asked Brett how much Mandy was charging for Molly’s treatments. He said, nothing. She won’t take my money for Molly. 

A couple of weeks later (after rolling up our rug, laying down a full box of pee pads, setting up a number of different sleeping options including the water proof baby bed mattress) Molly started using her right leg again. This was a very hopeful sign and a huge improvement in getting around even if it was off balance. Her final bed set up in the living room was a river mattress (poco pad) and Brett slept on the couch so he could help her out when she need to pee/poop in the night. She was stuck on her little island in the house as she could not maneuver unbalanced on three legs on the hardwood floor. 

Even though she still doesn’t have use of the left leg yet, she has come a long way and she is improving. She now sleeps through the night, eats well, pees and poops outside on her own, and is happy. We’ve laid yoga mats on the hardwood floor and she is able to get around the house now and sleeps in our bedroom. We’ve built a ramp for her off the front porch and a portable ramp for the car. I’ve started making Molly burgers that are full of deer meat, grains and vegetables that I prepare and keep in the freezer. 

Molly goes to another vet for physical therapy that Brett, who videoed the session on his phone, then does with her twice a day. That vet had Molly fitted for a custom made boot that we will pick up Monday. 

One night Brett was on the floor with Molly and I asked what he was doing. ”Acupuncture on her bladder meridian”.

Molly takes 12 different supplements to help with her healing. I’ve had two people tell me that when they die they want to come back as mine and Brett’s dog. 

Our active yellow lab has lost all muscle on her back side and and she now weighs 65 pounds. Her lean hips should help when she does get that leg back. 

What’s my take away on all of this? It’s a big one. And a slap in my whole foods, plant based, vegan ass!

Food. What the heck have I been feeding my animals? Why did this societal rebel fall so easily victim to the belief that animals should eat processed, un-fresh food, shelf stable, out of a bag (or can) with very little variety, food? I’m so frustrated with myself. Ease? Convenience? What the fuck? Our animals ate our food until the 1950s. Commercialism flipped the switch. Now everyone thinks dog food is the best especially the expensive stuff from a high end pet store. Why? How can that be better than fresh homemade food? In the 50’s we invented wonder bread, boxed mac and cheese, hot dogs and dog food. This morning Molly had a burger that I made last weekend and froze. I take them out as needed, thaw them and she loves it. The burger includes deer meet, rice, spinach, peas, carrots, celery and oatmeal. I added a slice of homemade bread and some leftover lentils, smashed it all up and she loved it. 

The book I’m recommending is “The Fresh and Flexible Meal Plan; The Easiest, Most Nutritious Way to Feed Your Dog and Cat” by Jan Allegretti. If you have an animal, I highly recommend reading this book and re-thinking how your animal is nourished.

We have so many people cheering for Molly. All of her practitioners, including Brett’s chiropractor who won’t take our money but sure appreciated the nice bottle of wine, the holistic vet who offers to do house calls in her old Volvo, the matcha latte barista, the quilting Harley guy, the people that work in the vet offices, our families and friends, co-workers, the pet store owner who let us return our unopened bag of dog food, the neighbors who don’t recognize us when we’re out walking without Molly. Molly Girl has lots of good energy coming her way. We are grateful for it all. Go Molly Go!

More book recommendations and adventures (with Molly) can be found at Wild About Books. Click follow. 

For you long time loyal Wild About Books followers, you may recall that my all time favorite author is western Montana resident David James Duncan. You may also recall that my number one and number two favorite books ever are his novels; “The Brothers K” and “The River Why”. If you have not read these I highly highly recommend them and thank you to my long time friend Deborah for introducing me to this author and his books.

After an evening of sharing at my “no book book club” my other long time friend Scyntiya started the audio version of “The Brothers K”. In the words of Scyntiya; “This book will cause me to never enjoy another novel; the writing is so exquisite. It’s like falling in love, the feeling will leave and you’ll never have it again”

Last month, after two decades, David James Duncan released his next novel. It took him 16 years to write. I’m a quarter through it and believe it is a master piece and will place my number one and number two favorite books of all time down one notch.

For the second time in my life I attended a David James Duncan event. He managed to fill the whole first level of the historic Wilma theater in downtown Missoula with his cult like followers and a few people who scored some free tickets at work or accompanied their mom (thanks Hannah) and had no idea the philosopher, poet, humanitarian, environment loving, talent that they had stumbled upon.

The event was an interview then a reading accompanied by a two musicians including a steel guitar player. With my new signed hard copy of “Sun House” in my lap, I listened to every word.

When I wrote my novel “Lucida Sans”; my goal was to write like David James Duncan. To dive deep into each character’s personality and let the characters tell the story. My novel and David James Duncan’s novels, in a nut shell, are the writer’s philosophies as told by fictional characters.

In his interview, Montana Public Radio’s Loren Korn asked about David James Duncan’s many characters and how they evolved throughout the book. David’s reply was that he tried to manage his characters and put words in their mouths, but they would not allow it and took on personalities of their own.

I so related to this comment. While writing my novel, I would walk into a coffee shop or brewery with my notebook and pencil not knowing what my characters would do until I walked back out. They wrote the story, I was just the transcriptionist for them.

I started his book that night of the event and realized this is not a night time book. I don’t want to read this as I’m winding down to sleep. “Sun House” is my morning book. It has taken the place of journaling and “The Sun” magazine. “Sun House” and a yerba matte morning. My alert and well rested novel. I’m reading it slowly, letting the words and characters be absorbed in my brain cells, my skin, my being. Every line is poetry. Every line is to be contemplated. A thought provoking book that is marked up by my underlining and exclamation marks. A book that I when I finish, I may flip back to page one and start over as even in my alert reading time, I know I’m still missing so much.

“Sun House is one of the greatest imaginative achievements I have encountered in a lifetime of reading.  Page after page brims with invention, mirth, knowledge, irreverence, and deep wisdom. I know of no one who better captures the beauty of the natural world or the ineffable experience of transcendence… David James Duncan transports the reader into a world more radiant and vivid than this one, or rather into a world just as radiant and vivid as this one, if only we attended to it with the heightened awareness his tale urges us to cultivate.” 

–William deBuys, author of The Trail to Kanjiroba: Rediscovering Earth in an Age of Loss

To be fair, my life philosophy and David James Duncan’s life philosophy are at the center of a Venn Diagram. We are, in the words of David James Duncan, “spiritual littermates”. I mean, he didn’t say that about me; it’s just a line in his book that I’ve stolen forever. You, blog follower, may not connect with his writing as I have. And, as I discovered in my book club, which recently evolved to the no book book club, this is to be expected.

Here is one of my underlined examples from the book.

…why I prefer high-mountain backpacking to skiing. In backpacking, the suffering endured as you climb sensitizes you to the gorgeousness when you arrive on high, and your elation lasts and lasts. In skiing, a mechanical lift crammed with party-hardies ratchets you to elevation in minutes, only to turn around and in seconds, undo all the elevation gain you didn’t suffer to achieve, so that way too soon you’re DOWN and the only cure for elation deflation is to get back in the party-hardy line, pay the piper, ratchety-ratchet back up, and bouncy-bounce down again, up, down, up, down, wanka, wanka, wanka.

There is no Lisa adventure to accompany this book recommendation. The book is the adventure. Nearly 800 pages of David James Duncan. I am in my happy place. Thank you David, I’d love to have you join my no book book club one evening in Darby, Montana.

I highly, highly, highly recommend David James Duncan’s newest novel “Sun House”. More fun book recommendations and adventures can be found at Wild About Books. I invite you to share and follow my blog.

I have to pull it out.

You have to pull it out.

Do you want to walk out like this?

No. You have to pull it out.

We have to move you to a dry spot. I need to be stable.

Give me your hand.

I can’t lift my arm.

I was packed and ready at 8:30; twenty minutes early. I moved my backpack out to the mudroom. I moved Molly’s backpack out to the mudroom. Checked the time. 8:31. I moved my pack outside. I moved Molly’s pack outside. Time?……Still…….. 8:31. I’ve stopped time.

Heidi pulls into the driveway right on schedule. I throw our packs in the back of her truck. Juno jumps out to say hi to Molly. Several minutes of yellow lab mayhem. We all jump back in and head to the trailhead which is only two miles from the house. My favorite trail starts two miles from my house.

We meet Heidi’s friend Rebecca and her two cow dogs; Rags and River at the trailhead. By 9:15 we are headed up the trail on a very overcast morning and 62 degrees. Perfect hiking weather and unusually cool and wet weather for the first of August. An all female crew. Three women and four dogs.

Rebecca is an ultra trail runner. In June she ran in a 68 mile trail run race. But this was her first backpacking trip. Even her dogs have run over 20 miles in her training runs.

Heidi is an endurance cyclist. She did a 200 mile solo ride one day this summer. For fun.

I have a desk job.

My trail name is “pacemaker” as I’m in front and set the pace (at least, that’s what they tell me is the reason why that’s my trail name). This ensures that the two ultra athletes behind me stop and smell the bark. Have you ever stopped and smelled a Ponderosa Pine? Put your nose in the crevice of the bark and you are filled with the scent of pure vanilla with a hint of maple syrup. Smells so good.

Heidi’s trail name is “polar plunger” as she always takes a dip in the water when arriving at camp. No matter how shallow or how cold. A full body plunge even if it only lasts half a second.

Rebecca’s trail name came from this weekend’s hike; “tent stake” as her tent stakes looked like something that you would use to secure railroad ties. Which is a better trail name than the last person we took backpacking with us; “cheese curds”. She packed in two packages of cheese curds. She also packed them out since she didn’t eat them until the drive home. Careful if you come backpacking with us. Never know what we’ll give you for a trail name. You will earn it though.

Nine miles in and we set up camp. A lovely spot on the creek with waterfalls and wide open views of the mountains on two sides and the drainage we had just climbed below us. You can see the notch in the mountain across the creek to Kerlee Lake. A steady climb that we will not attempt this trip. It’s an early dinner of various backpacking meals. Rebecca’s not too happy with her generic choice and shares the last bites with the dogs.

The sky looks threatening and we have all put on our rainflys over our tents. Rain is in the forecast for the whole weekend. A rainy weekend of backpacking beats a sunny 90 degree weekend for this writer. I’m in my happy place in so many ways. So peaceful. And so many big ripe juicy huckleberries. Every pee squat is multitasked with huckleberry snacking. We were surrounded.

It was too warm for a fire, which was a good thing since campfires were not permitted in the middle of our normally hot dry tinder box summer time. Both Heidi and Rebecca took a dip in the cold creek. It was 6:00; we had brushed our teeth, hung our food in our various bear proof methods when the dogs started barking and ran to meet the other hikers that had arrived at OUR camp. And; to 6 month old Juno’s delight, there was another puppy with them. Six of them and one puppy. We tried to scare them off. “We have FOUR dogs”. Problem was; there was no other place to camp for several miles. And it was 6:00. We had neighbors for the night and Juno ran over every chance she got. She was as excited about the neighbors as much as her mom was…….um……fucking pissed about the new neighbors. We sat around our non existent camp fire and shit talked the new neighbors. They were clearly not ultra marathon runners. We trail named the group of them “moon-pies”.

Heidi was worried that puppy Juno would wear herself out and decided that the two of them were going to the tent to read. We all followed suit. The water falls and creek noises drowned out the voices of the neighbors. I watched them set up camp and eat dinner from my open rainfly.

We were up by 6:00 the next morning. One of the neighbors had set his tent up on the trail. We had to walk right by it with our orange cat hole shovel and zip lock baggie of toilet paper. It’s also where their puppy slept; or not slept as we tried to be stealth like as possible on our way to take care of business.

Breakfast done and packed for our day hike up to Tin Cup Lake and beyond and our neighbors were still asleep.

It had rained a few times through the night. Even though it wasn’t currently raining we put on rain pants and a rain coat. We were going to be soaked walking through the wet brush. The sky was still gray. The temps still felt warm. We stopped to take off layers as soon as we stared.

I’ve hiked Tin Cup Trail more times than I can count, but this was my first time to Tin Cup Lake. The lake has a dam at its outlet. The dam was built in the 1930’s, back when the whole state was being turned into irrigation ditches in order to water the hay fields in order to feed the cattle through the winter. Montana has lots of creeks and rivers but the vast majority of land is arid. It’s a high dessert with less than 11 inches of rain annually. Most of the high mountain lakes I’ve hiked to are scarred with dam building and the items needed to direct the water or operate the dam or just unneeded junk still laying around. It is unfortunate that the wilderness act did not take effect until September 1964, (a month before I was born). All of these dams are grandfathered in to the non mechanized wilderness areas. It is fortunate that we had the foresight to have a wilderness act, unless of course, you are native American, and have been displaced from your home because it is now a “wilderness area”.

We continued to hike above the lake, a lake that was truly spectacular once you left the dam. As we climbed we found ourselves deep in a cloud and little to no streams to fill our bottles. Our bellies were growling for lunch. “This spot looks great”. We stopped and fed the dogs, prepared hot tea and had a hot lunch. There was no view in the cloud as we pulled out our dry, warm, puffy clothes from our bags. It was a delightful lunch. Lunch is my favorite time in the forest. There’s nothing to do but enjoy the outdoors and eat and drink. So relaxing. By the time we got back to the lake we were in shorts and tank tops as the sun peaked through the puzzle pieces of clouds. The creek crossing that day was over a tree, no need to remove our boots. Even the dogs took the tree and they don’t wear boots. There ended up being a three person four dog traffic jam on the log. Molly started backing up instead of going forward. She inadvertently knocked off one of the cow dogs who fell four feet into the creek like a sack of potatoes. The traffic jam turned into a mad scramble. Pacemaker somehow had ended up in the back of the pack and got to witness the entire cluster. The dog was unharmed and stood in the creek trying to figure out what everyone was running to as if he’d missed something big happening. We bushwhacked our way back to the trail (logs don’t tend to fall over a creek AT the trail). We took a quick inventory of the fallen dog, no limping, no anything, just a normal day hike.

As we got closer to our camp, Heidi starting sending messages to the universe to please make sure the Moon pies had packed up and left and took their puppy and their in the trail tent setter upper with them.

It worked the camp was clear of moon pies and no one else had showed up either. Yet.

The sun was shinning back at camp. We were able to hang up our wet gear. My boots and Rebecca’s boots were not going to dry for a very long time. Heidi still had dry feet. It was a beautiful night and the weather forecast on Heidi’s Garmin InReach said no rain, just clouds. Looking at the sky though it looked as if we were the last section of blue sky as we were being attacked from all sides by very dark ominous clouds. We’d hike about 12 miles that day. We sat around our cold campfire ring and quizzed Rebecca on her ultra trail running while we boiled water and waited for our dinners to rehydrate. I contemplated why we still sat around the fire ring with no fire. I had everything ready to run to the tent and eat and get Molly out of the rain, but it never rained, as forecasted on the InReach. We stayed up late, 8:30 maybe. Just as we all got into our tents to read the rain started. Then the thunder and lightening. The thunder echoed up the canyon making it sound even more intense as it got closer and closer to us. Molly started shaking and tried to get even closer than we already were in our one person tent. It rained and rained and rained. You couldn’t even hear the creek over the sound of the rain. I really wanted to go pee and have a handful of huckleberries but I was pretty sure Molly would follow me and then I be sleeping next to a wet dog. I waited.

The next morning was clear and beautiful. Every time we were prepping our meals and eating it was clear and dry. The final meal of the trip was no exception. After breakfast we packed up our soaking wet gear into our packs and were on the trail before 9:00 wearing our rain pants and raincoat for the seriously wet brush. Rebecca’s shoes were so soaked she wore them as she crossed the first creek crossing of the day. Half way out we stopped at a huge boulder, I mean like football field big, where the creek flowed over, dropping and pooling along the shape of the rock. We ate the rest of our food for lunch and took a nice break, none of us wanting the trip to end. Heidi went fill up her water bottle one last time. The rain from the night before made the whole rock slick. I watched from above as she slipped and fell to all fours. My first though was she’s going to get her boots wet too. She stayed there. Gave a wave. It took me a full two seconds to realize this was not a wave of all’s good. She stayed on all fours not getting up. I ran, or more walked fast with Rebecca on my heels and all four dogs right behind us.

What hurts?

My shoulder. I heard it pop. I think it’s dislocated.

Then we’ll have to pull it out.

Have you done it before?

No. But I’ve heard about it.

We moved to a dry spot on the rock where the sun was shining. We could see the deformed shoulder poking out of her shirt. I picked up her arm. I gently pulled. Nothing. I pulled more. And just like that. Like her body knew what to do. Her arm pulled back from me like it was attached to rubber bands and you could hear it as it set back into the proper spot. I looked like I was going to pass out or throw up or both. Heidi’s facial expression looked like she had just come back to camp with the Moon pies gone and said, “it’s back; it worked! You did it” as she started flinging her arm in all directions to prove the successful wilderness re-located shoulder procedure worked. We threw our packs on our backs and headed down the last 4.5 miles to the truck. Another successful adventure.

More great adventures as well as great book recommendations can be found at Wild About Books.

Good news! I’ve figured out how to start the backpacking season even earlier. This is exciting as there is not a very big window in western Montana for backpacking. You have to wait for the snow to melt to get in the high country and then you have to wait for the creeks to lower so that they are crossable. Then there is bug season and sometimes smoke and fire season in the later summer. If you don’t jump on every opportunity and extend the season you can see that summer will pass by and there will be no backpacking to be had.

If you recall, Heidi and I took advantage of some bonus summer-like weather last October to hike up Boulder Creek for a couple of days and our water bottles barely froze up over night. This year we went out in May on the Salmon river one weekend and the Selway River the next weekend or as we like to call it “our church”; Frank Church to be exact. The Selway Bitterroot Frank Church Wilderness Area. A playground in our backyard.

Our Selway trip plan was to hike into Scott’s Camp nine miles in; base camp there; a side hike the next day and back out on the third day. We came out on day two.

We parked the car at the Paradise Campground on White Cap Creek in Idaho, loaded up our packs and walked to the trailhead which is also the put in for rafting the Selway River. We passed a bear hunter coming out on horseback just before the trailhead. We stopped to talk and he warned us to watch for rattlesnakes, they are bad this year. I’ve done the entire 56 miles of the Selway River Trail three times and have seen a few rattlesnakes, but just like all of the other wild animals I’ve come across, they don’t want to have anything to do with me either and usually slither off the trail or give a warning rattle that they are there. The one big difference with this short in and out backpack and my through hiking the Selway was that I brought my yellow lab Molly who has not had any experience with rattlesnakes.

We continued on into the large cedar lined trail. Huge cedar trees shaded us on the first few miles of the trail. The trail was in good shape with little to no downfall to climb over. About three miles in we crossed a large creek. There is a log crossing just above the trail, not an ideal log when you are carrying 25 plus pounds on your back, but a log and still quicker than taking boots and socks off and wading through the creek. I extend my trekking poles as long as they will go and use those to balance myself while doing a high wire act on this uneven wet log. Heidi and Molly are in front of me. I hear voices on the other side. Heidi tells the voices to wait as she reaches the other side of the creek as there is a rattlesnake at the end of the crossing log. Everyone hangs out for a moment as the rattlesnake continues on its way. We bush whack our way back to the trail to find a man and his 10 year old son and a dog all wearing backpacks who are heading back towards the trailhead. They tell us that they were going to stay out longer but they’d seen seven rattlesnakes and just couldn’t take it anymore. They were going to find another trail.

At this point I’m thinking ‘what is the universe trying to tell me?’ I blew it off. It was a long drive in here, we had planned this, the weather was perfect…….

We kept hiking.

Here’s the weird thing about rattlesnakes, they give that rattle to warn you, but it’s not something that registers quickly in your head like a car horn. It takes several moments to first think ‘what is that’ and then panic that you are being warned by a rattlesnake to back off. The river is roaring on one side of the trail and I’ve been trying to make as many vibrations as I can to give my own warning that we are coming through.

At about mile 6 I hear a rattle, contemplate what that sound is, panic as I’m now right by the rattlesnake and run on a narrow, rocky trail with my 25 pound plus backpack and Molly close on my heels not exactly sure what is happening but sensing that we need to hurry as scenes from the movie “True Grit” run through my head.

Heidi is behind watching this event play out. By now the rattlesnake is more not happy and looks right into Heidi’s eyes and rattles a “dare you to pass me bitch” rattle. She doesn’t. She talks nice to the snake, says she’s just passing through, the snake slithers into the rocks…..Heidi prepares to pass…….but it’s a trick….the snake comes out the other side of the rock and rattles again. Heidi makes her move and trots by apologizing profusely for being in the snake’s habitat. We all continue to walk and only a minute later Heidi shouts out “GO GO GO”. Me and Molly do our backpack run down the trail not sure what’s going on behind us.

We’d walked right over another snake crossing the trail.

This was becoming very nerve wracking.

The weather had changed, we could see storm clouds headed our direction. The temperature dropped as the rain started. We stopped to put on our rain gear and the weather seemed to make the rattlesnakes take shelter and we did not see another one the rest of the day. We got to our camp and I was soaked. My last year boots had lost there water proofness and I felt like I’d walked through a creek sloshing in my wet socks with every step. These boots were never going to dry unless the sun came out.

We set up camp in the trees and collected some wet firewood. The camp was very shaded and cool and we didn’t expect to see any snakes in the area, which we didn’t.

After dinner and some journaling we got in our tents for some well earned sleep. It took a while for me to fall asleep and as soon as my body slid into a peaceful slumber my brain flashed a picture of a giant rattlesnake and I startled into full awakeness. Full blown awake. Like I’d had coffee for dinner awake. I tried to read. Tried some deep breathing exercises.

This was when I started some loving kindness meditation for the rattlesnakes. They were just being snakes. I’m sure the less than one pound legless, armless reptile was way more scared of me.

May you be happy rattlesnake, may you be safe rattlesnake, may you live with ease rattlesnake

I had to just lay there and wait for sleep to return, which it did. But while I was laying there I was thinking about getting out, just pack up and hike out the next day. But we’d planned this. We took a day off of work. It’s a long drive in. We LOVE sleeping in our tents and eating our backpacking meals. The weather was perfect. I’d carried in all this damn dog food.

The next morning we get up and start to get things prepared for hot drinks and some breakfast. Made a fire with the damp wood. Set my soaked hiking boots by the fire. Heidi commented that she’s not sure she has enough fuel for the whole trip. I commented that I’m not sure I have enough fuel for the whole trip. If you know me and Heidi you would know that this would be totally impossible for both of us to be low on fuel. We pride ourselves on having everything and just the right amount of everything and nothing extraneous. We are two of the most prepared people you will ever meet. Some or maybe more than some, might call us anal. If one of us was short on fuel it would be ok, because the other of us would be able to make up the difference.

The universe did not want us to stay out another night.

The weather was going to be cooler and overcast for the day and hot and sunny the next day. We deduced that cool and overcast would be less rattlesnakes and hot and sunny would be more rattlesnakes.

Decision made.

I gave Molly a second breakfast and started packing up my tent. We walked the nine miles out and saw zero rattlesnakes. Could have been the cool, overcast weather, but I believe it was the loving kindness meditation. May you be happy. May you be safe. May you live with ease.

What is our book selection for this post? On our ride into the Salmon River where we backpacked before this rattlesnake trip, Heidi told me she was reading a great book called “Outlive”. I smacked her on the arm and said “YOU ARE NOT”; as I was reading the same book. The book I’m recommending is “Outlive” by Dr. Peter Attia. This book is about rethinking the medical world as we know it and using preventive tools early in life to live not just a long life but a life worth living. Heidi’s take away quote from the book which is actually a quote from Paul Coelho;

“Maybe the journey isn’t so much about becoming anything. Maybe it’s about unbecoming everything that isn’t really you, so you can be who you were meant to be in the first place.”

I heard a podcast with the author who said he started the book with the belief that nutrition would be the most important thing to a long healthy life, but after writing the book he changed his mind and now believes that movement is the key. Maybe not running from rattlesnakes on a narrow rocky trail with a backpack on kind of movement but just moving. Get out there and move everyone.

More great book recommendations and adventures can be found on my blog “Wild About Books“.