Day: March 30, 2024

Nestled in the cozy nook of Seeley Lake, Montana, sits a story that could rival any Hallmark winter special. Imagine a mountain lake so serene, it’s like Mother Nature paused Netflix, grabbed her paints, and went to town on a canvas. The sunset? So showy, you’d swear the sky was flirting with us. And those snow-dressed peaks in the backdrop, standing all stoic, like they’re guarding the secrets of the universe or something.

Now, hold onto your hats, because it’s not just the Kodak moments that have the locals gossiping. There’s a bustling metropolis of beavers out there, with their home sticking out of the ice like it’s thumbing its nose at the cold, a beacon of life in the winter wonderland.

Let’s zoom in on the stars of our show: a beaver family that’s turned living in a postcard into an art form. These little engineers are the epitome of busy, cobbling together a pad from twigs and dreams, snug enough to scoff at Montana’s nippy embraces. When the mercury drops, they’re all about that huddle life, munching on their stash of greens, turning their lodge into the equivalent of a furry igloo. It’s a masterclass in hanging tough, a rhythm of stick-to-itiveness that swings with the seasons. Come the big melt, they’re out there, doing DIY repairs, stocking the pantry, and throwing welcome parties for their newborns, all in sync with the springtime vibes.

It celebrates the dance between the wild ones and their digs, set to the unpretentious backdrop of Seeley Lake. It’s a nudge to remember that the deepest tales are often whispered in nature’s embrace, where a clan of beavers schools us in the art of resilience, craftiness, and the warm fuzzies of crowding together when the plot thickens in the chill of a Montana winter.

Free boondocking
For the one looking
For social distancing
To keep from intermingling
But whoa is me
We cannot leave
Stuck at home
I’d rather be churned loam

Paul’s Visit Part 4

Day 4 rolled around, and there I was, drowning in a sea of guilt because I hadn’t whisked Paul away for another ski escapade. So, after clocking out from work, I was all, “Hey, let’s make a run for the hills!” Our mission? Lick Creek – the infamous spot for a post-work ski “quickie.”

And boy, did it live up to its reputation. As the sun took its final bow, we hurled ourselves off the wind-battered headwall. The landscape was a barren wasteland, save for a snowy oasis to the North. Despite the lackluster snowscape, the adventure was a blast, matched only by the Thai spot we stumbled upon afterwards. My bad, Paul. Trust me, our skiing usually isn’t this sketchy.

It was almost time to turn around. Today I wanted to catch up with some work outs and a couple 30 minute running intervals should do the trick. Furthermore I could run this, the Foothills Trail, and see how the spring is progressing. But now torn between running along the tiny sliver of land on the edge of the snow and a side-slipping snow scramble. I hung to the sliver of muddy trail. But the conditions were not enough to tun me around.

It was actually getting late. And I needed to get to Kenyon Nobel before it closed to get washing machine hoses. I finally got a washing machine, yes, but feel like I signed away my free self.  Before everything I owned could fit in my beetle ready to relocate. I felt free and unencumbered.  No I need a truck or something to move. Am I trapped. yes, it was late. But the waning time was not enough to turn me around.

A storm was ripping through the Bozeman Valley and I could feel it’s cold wind pick up and rake across the back of my neck. The thought of freezing temps and cold drenching rain splashed across my thoughts. Before I was thinking how just the day before I was hiking this very same trail with my best friend. My best friend now gone … away to Texas. And now I face weekends of finding stuff to do on my own. I would be back to the way I was. Doing stuff alone. Unencumbered and free. Free to keep going. And possibly never return. Should I just keep going?

The storm now closer was not enough to turn me around. But I did. This time. For no other reason but to see how fast I could run back to the car. And pick up some new washing machine hoses. And pack the car to travel once again to Missoula. To visit another best friend. And plan a race in Boise next weekend with another. And to go riding with other great friends.  I had stuff to do.

Here I am, somewhere in Montana, settling into my role at Montana State University. The vibe’s different from last week’s remote work hustle – now, I’m aiming for a blend of productivity and personal time. And, against all odds, I’m knocking tasks out of the park. Just stepped outside for a ride, despite the downpour. Bozeman? Missoula? The lines are a bit blurry in the rain.

Reaching the ridge, I was struck by a stunning scene – a fiery sky like none other, above what I think was the Gallatin Valley. Caught between awe and the instinct to bolt before the storm hit, I stood frozen, watching this mesmerizing dance of red and dark clouds. The moment was fleeting, soon replaced by snowflakes.

Home at last, after what felt like an age, my hands too numb to even open the door. A hot shower brought me back to life after my mini odyssey.

What a ride! Started on the M Trail, venturing through the Bridger Foothills into a landscape that shifted from dry paths to waist-deep snow. Every turn brought more beauty, and oh, if only I’d remembered my camera. The mix-up of Bozeman and Missoula? Just part of today’s whirlwind adventure.

This post is a second in a tiny series (or stages) of my recollection of last weekend’s trip to Lewiston for the Devils Slide Mountain Bike Race. This is the first race of the season and it was a great time. We left off picking up keys to the cabin.

The cabin wasn’t ready and I jumped to a quick conclusion because I really wanted to go riding. I assumed that if we waited for the cabin I wouldn’t get out on the trails until late. I had some “tweaks” to do to the bike before launching onto the trails. After a little pow wow O realized that we could still get it done by just going into town for a hour and then ascend upon ol “Tamany Lodge“.

In two hours time I was adjusting my grips, tuning up the bike, checking air pressures, and trying to decide how I would carry my tools for 2010. Some big decisions were made and we were off. Sleeveless in Idaho. The temps were in the 70s.

The pre ride was great and we even went exploring on some single track below the bluffs. A great summer like ride on some interesting trails. I even witnessed a ballet like move by Ross on the Devils Slide as he pulled a move to avoid a certain faceplate. It was quite poetic and I got it on film. This morning I lost that footage. It mysteriously got corrupted in transit to my computer (reason for the late blog).

After the riding was finished and the action wipes dispensed we embarked on a long walk to discover in more detail our surroundings. I learned that Lewis and Clark really didn’t have a good doctor and the pills they were using for stomach distress almost killed them. Yea! We found a interpretive trail.

The day ended with a reading from A Tale of Two Cities. What better way to relax … right? We cooked brats over a campfire and chatted about the up and coming season. A perfect day and the race on Sunday was already a success.

Campin’ out at City Brew ’til the clock strikes 10, then I’m homeward bound by 11. Got this itch to hit the trails at Thompson Falls – think secret passage to Idaho vibes, just asphalt and the open road, no bumper-to-bumper nonsense. Anyone up for a map quest? Wouldn’t say no to a bit of company… Hit me up! Planning to roll out at the crack of half-past noon, by which time the sun should’ve done its bit to thaw us out.

Splashed some snapshots onto my My Picassa Gallery. Morning kicked off with me tinkering on my mountain bike project, then it was all systems go for the day’s race. Got there, already signed up and all, to find tumbleweeds. Did a victory lap solo and crowned myself champ. Home next, for a winner’s nap, then back to greasing the gears on my mountain bike ’til the stars came out.

Just rolled in from a jog around Maltby Lakes. Spent the day on tenterhooks, waiting for FedEx to drop off my updated “Covenant Not to Sue” doc. Got it, signed it, and bam, that’s a wrap on my Sikorsky saga. Also wrestled with taxes and a mountain of paperwork for this new chapter I’m flipping to. Tonight, fingers crossed, Lisa hits me up for movie night (hello, discount tickets!). If not, I’ll kidnap my roommate for cinematic adventures. Now, it’s shower time followed by an Instagram photo dump session. Catch ya later, folks!