Three weeks ago Snuggles went to Costco to only find it gutted. We knew something was afoot. Then the Governor told us to stay home. Besides my daily attempts to escape via adventure bike, this is what we have been doing.
With things the way they are it is really hard to think back to a time when adventure was so easy. An idea was born. Then executed. Just like that. Now it is like we are not allowed to go out to explore. And we slip into a convict mentality. How long would it take before anyone realized that we are not in our cell?
A lot of firsts were obtained during one of our last adventures. First overnighter in a rest area and Walmart parking lot. First mountain bike ride in Great Falls. First time seeing the falls … er … what is left of them. First time seeing a carp raise out of the water to watch you walk down the road. First big sunny day.
Okay, it was not the first big sunny day. It always seems like when I see the sun I am amazed. Every time I see a photo with the sun I think it was the last time I have seen the sun. In any case … when you experience so many firsts. You know you have adventured. You’ve gone out into the new. First experiences.
It indeed seems we can’t do that anymore. But isn’t the situation the first time we have experienced this? Isn’t this just another big adventure. I have to say though. IT is getting old and it doesn’t seem like an adventure anymore. Isn’t it about time to end this one?
Quarantine is hard. Simply the most difficult thing to give up is our freedom. So today I’m thinking back to a time when we just jumped into buttons and took off for some Adventure. Freedom to Adventure. Adventures to Freedom. I miss Adventure. I missed the freedom to Adventure.
I’m up early and nothing much to see here. Only disgruntles with their loud pickups driving the streets looking to run down violators. I’m too fast for them. Slipping in and out of alleys.
I make it to the tracks were Honkie, our friendly engineer honker, lays on the horn to wake up Livingston. I put my head down and march up Park Street. I turn the corner to the home stretch and compare the bank signs. One says 28 degrees and the other is reporting 30. Wow … we will be in the 30s today? I sprint for the front door and duck inside. I made it today. I made it.
As a child. I don’t know if I was told or what, but I thought that people would die in this lake because the winds would kick up and capsize fishing boats. And that people will get swept away in the overflow drain. But the fact is that the reservoir was named after a hanging.
People back in the day thought that this guy was stealing horses and so for that, they hung him. For being a horse thief. Thus dead man’s basin.
It was fun to revisit my childhood playground. A place that my aunt and friends used to take me to party and swim and. Try to learn to water ski.
As a child, I always thought this was a huge sea. But now as an adult, it’s just a reservoir. Also as a child, I never saw the mountains. I thought this was the plains and nothing exciting. It was just so boring. Just a place to go party and get drunk and swim. Come to find out that if you look to the north there are the Big Snowy Mountains. And to the South, there is the Crazy Mountain Range. Huge mountain ranges that make this place absolutely beautiful.
Revisit the places you remember as a child because when you do it will be a different experience. Too bad we can not do that with people … ha.
Living … in … a … van … down … by … the … river. That Saturday Night Live skit was hilarious. But really what if someone we knows does actually live in a van down by the river.
I have been hearing the word “old” a lot lately. “My teacher is so old they cant teach me without a classroom”. “Your the oldest one here”. “your so old”. Well if we are measuring metabolic age I will bet I am younger then you. And if your so fucking stupid that you just do some simple math to determine my age. Then I certainly do not want to tell you where I live.
Some things do reflect and come into the center stage when a blanket is thrown over our waking existence. Go out at night and you will see these stars. And since they are the only things in view there are no other distractions.
Distractions like our new bike. Or other people. Or a beautiful scene with many visually pleasurable elements.
Nope, all you see is these twinkling little stars. Look close enough and you can see inside yourself. Like a mirror. For some, it may be blank. But for me, I see endless opportunities.
Tonight I am mesmerized. That is until I fumble the camera and it falls on the bridge of my nose. Ouch!
Before the stay at home order. Who are these fools, living in their van. Having fun. Go home! We’ll just close the parks and trail-heads. We will fix you. Having fun.
Oh, this collage is like a love letter to Mother Nature’s wild side, peppered with snapshots of daring souls hiking and biking across snow-kissed landscapes and jaw-dropping mountain scenes. It’s as if these images are whispering (or maybe shouting), “Adventure is out there!” nudging us to picture ourselves swapping our cozy slippers for some rugged boots and diving headfirst into the great outdoors.
We could dive into the mesmerizing dance between the raw, untamed wilderness and the graceful silhouettes of adventurers carving their paths through it. It’s like watching a ballet where the dancers and the stage are in a constant, thrilling tug-of-war. Or maybe we should chat about the mood lighting provided courtesy of the natural world—how the shadows play hide and seek and the clouds above stage their own drama, setting the scene with those brooding skies and snow-draped peaks. It’s all a bit like the setting of an epic fantasy novel, isn’t it?
We’ve been experiencing the Livingston springtime, characterized by its cold weather, wind, and lack of visible ground. One might think that sheltering in place would be the best way to “enjoy” spring here. Yet, we venture outside to see if we can find what we’re searching for. Even though we often return empty-handed, we always come back with huge grins. Cracking open a beer, we’re filled with a sense of happiness. So, what are we doing now? The same thing. What about you?
Just before COVID-19 became a thing we were going forth and moving from adventure to adventure.
Like camping at Carabella and moving out to explore Rock Creek. It was the exact opposite of the shelter in place. Which is where we are now. And it is what we tell the elders. “Don’t you think you should just shelter in place now”? Where are you?
Okay, yeah, I’m gonna say it again. Livingston is whacked in the weather department. So this morning’s walk was in seven degrees and it is April 2nd. Happy birthday, right? OK. I agree. I might bitch a little too much about the weather and then I should change my situation and believe me we are going to. With COVID-19 I should feel lucky to have anything. No, that is just my childhood voice saying it is all my fault and I should always feel ashamed. Screw my childhood.
Just have to get it off my chest. And maybe I’m grouchy because I was up all night thinking about the COVID-19 outbreak.
How many people are supposed to die? It’s crazy. It’s almost like we’re sitting here waiting for death to knock on the door. And then I think about other people that are not as healthy as us. That scares me even more.
I guess to make a coffee then make the most of today.
And be consistently aware of everything that comes in and out of the apartment.
Even if your place is nothing but a winter hell. Making the most of Livingston Montana before the big lockdown of covid19 photos added at https://photos.app.goo.gl/NbvTXTi6a8uSdu7x6
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
Born and raised in Roundup Montana I thought that implied knowledge of winter. But now living in Livingston we are consistently scouring the map to see where the warmest and dries places in Montana are. Many times we find out that Roundup is the warmest and dryest place in the state. What?
So after leaving my birthplace, I went to Billings Montana. Same as above, meaning warm and dry. But even more sometimes. Now keep in mind living in Montana winters are inherently long.
Then I went to upstate New York. While living and racing my mountain bike I considered the winter’s cold but short. Everybody around me thought they were horrible. I found them to last very short. In fact like a month or two. Other than that, it was always in transition and the summers were amazing. Awesome fall in that part of the country.
Although a little bit humid, Connecticut was the same as Plattsburgh but even better. I was able to ride my bike year-round.
But … That’s when my decisions making started to turn for the worse. I decided to move back to Montana. I chose Missoula. Not only because of its art and culture but because along with the Bitterroot corridor it looked, and I was told, to always be the warmer place in Montana. And it was next to the mountains. Mountains are very very important to me. I cannot live anywhere without mountains and so Missoula seems to be the best place.
But then I started to get a little grouchy in Missoula because of the winters. It seemed to be a little bit longer than New England. The worst thing was inversion and clouds. Then I lost track of everything. I moved to Bozeman. Like … what was I thinking?
I soon realized this was the coldest place I have ever lived. The winters seemed to last two to three months longer than even in Missoula. I mean, you only had like three months of summer and even then it wasn’t that warm. We escaped over the pass to Livingston two years ago.
Frolicking up Mill Creek
“Welcome to the sunny side”, was the first and most welcome greeting we got upon arriving in downtown. From there I thought I was in heaven. The summers were hot and the population was low. This little town seemed to be a lot like Missoula.
Then it happened. The winter hit, and at first, it seemed okay. A couple of snowstorms but it melted right away and the whole winter up to March was dry. I thought holy cow this is it. The most awesome place although windy sometimes, haha.
Now after surviving, well, I have to say I haven’t survived the second winter yet and this is the big problem. This year after a couple of early-season snowstorms indeed everything dried off. It was just cold and windy. Which in itself means winter and my body feels weathered to justify.
And then as you go into March you think oh my god Spring is almost here and then it hits it snows every day in March. And if this year is like last year, it will snow until June. So yeah, Livingston seems to be okay until you hit March, but then it’s winters are offset into what other places would be experiencing spring.
I’ll stop right there and say that I am thankful for the people of Livingston. I am thankful for all the sun. And the gravel. I just want to stop the trend. Of moving to messed-up-environments. Maybe go nomad. Like be in sunny and dry during a SHORT winter but then come north to friends and good times.
Well, here’s a bitch for ya. Maybe it is more appreciation than bitch or even a bitchy appreciation. So I’m sitting here doing my daily constitutional as a bluebird sings outside. And I think to myself how much I appreciate spring. The returning birds … Robbins, Bluebirds, and the like.
Here it is. Wow, how nice spring is. How nice? Nice enough that I can’t help but appreciate it. And now I want to savor every tiny second of this moment. But then I think to myself about how last year I was able to appreciate every moment and every second. Seriously, I can remember every second. There weren’t many I admit. But I do remember. I remember warmer bird singing weather and count them on my cold freezing digits.
OK, what’s the rub? As much as I would like to appreciate spring. I know spring is only a moment. The majority of the year is hell winter. Rainy and angry. Mother nature hating the human population. Don’t get me started how she is now going to set things right.
Wow. I wish there was much more appreciation than these tiny precious seconds of happiness. I do appreciate though.
Our #photoalbum over at https://photos.app.goo.gl/NbvTXTi6a8uSdu7x6 is bursting at the seams with snapshots of our wild escapades right here in Livingston, Montana. We’ve got the whole #teammobill crew getting up to all sorts of shenanigans, all documented pre #covid_19. It’s like a treasure trove of “What were we thinking?” moments, immortalized online for eternity.
Boneshakerbike 