Good gravy. I need to carve out some time in my life to just sit and write. And I need to make a resolution to update my blog immediately after things happen. Or else this happens. Eight months later, and here I am finally transferring my journal entries to my blog. But what else is new?
...
I forgot to mention that while camping at Flathead Lake, our neighbors had WSU license plates. Although I didn't get the chance to chat with them, I knew this was a good sign.
We woke relatively early and had the car packed before 8. Now that we've camped several days in a row, we've got the set-up/tear-down process pretty dialed. We drove through absolutely gorgeous farm country to get to West Glacier, where we began our trip through Glacier National Park. I'll admit it. I did not do any research before this trip. I often would rather go into a vacation blind than to have preconceived ideas and to-dos. As we began our trip into the park, both Taylor and I agreed it looked a lot like Oregon. It was beautiful, naturally, but those first few miles didn't really inspire awe. We passed through the historic McDonald Hotel, stopped for a few photos, and then began our journey on the Going to the Sun Road.
And that's when we realized the multitude of reasons why this place is a national park, famed and loved by countless people from across the world. I've never driven through the Swiss Alps, but once we got through the park and to the Swiss-inspired Many Lakes Hotel, I realized my slight inclination--that these mountains were something remotely like the Alps--was in fact true. We'd been camping for days, and I wasn't ready to cave yet, but we took the fact that there were just three rooms left for the night as a sign that maybe we should stay.
At this point in the trip, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't tired of boxed and canned campfire dinners and the work that goes into making those. My mouth had been watering for ice cream, and we both wanted to sink our teeth into elk or bison burgers. When in Glacier, right?
After settling into our pseudo-room--think: FULL bed (not queen), water closet, and sink in-room--we decided to check-in for the boat tour of lakes Josephine and Grinnell. I must rewind a moment to mention that we likely wouldn't have even driven over to the Many Glacier region of Glacier Park if it weren't for the suggestion of a stranger we encountered at one of the lookout points on our drive across the park. As soon as he said he was from Austin and Marfa, Texas, with a summer home up at Flathead, well, we knew we could trust his advice. After the boat tour and mini-hike, in which we encountered several couples who had literally just seen a grizzly bear (they proved it with their photos), we headed back to the hotel and Taylor tried his hand at fishing in Lake Grinnell. No such luck, so we settled for dinner in the Swiss Lounge. We split an elk sloppy Joe and a bison burger, along with a local IPA for each.
Some of my favorite moments on this trip have not been captured on camera, like the breath-taking lakeside sunset we witnessed tonight. We decided in that moment that the room rate was well worth it. Sitting in rickety Adirondack chairs, beers in hand, watching the clouds change colors from pink to gray over the enormous mountains in front of us. I'm not sure if I've mentioned this, but the sun does not go down until well past 10:30 in Montana. Perhaps it's God's gift to the people who brave such tough winters, only to make it to the seemingly everlasting summer, which might almost make them forget about the snow.
Almost.
Tuesday, March 3, 2015
Sunday, February 22, 2015
July 8, 2014 - The Great American Road Trip Part IV
Just after dinner and moments before dark, Taylor cast into the Bitterroot right near our camp, and he quickly caught a rainbow trout. I netted it, photographed it, and he tossed it back. No time for s'mores last night--the pillows were calling our names.
We woke earlier than the day before, hustled to prepare coffee, breakfast, and then Taylor darted for the river. I cleaned up camp and have been obsessed with my book, so time alone is welcomed. Once Taylor returned, we put the pedal to the metal and jetted back to Missoula for a late-morning run.
We wanted to climb Mt. Sentinel to the giant "M" above the university. We started downtown, and by the time we'd (I'd) made it around several switchbacks, I was beat. We climbed much higher than the actual "M" and visions of our South Sister climb flashed back. Once we finished, we hit the Kettlehouse for a local beer and some insider info on Glacier, then we got back in the car and headed north.
The drive to Glacier is gorgeous, but so far in Montana, I haven't been disappointed with any of the views. Once we made it up to Bigfork, we decided to camp for the night, at a state park called Wayfarers. These state parks are swanky, I tell you. Bathrooms, showers, and great access points to Flathead Lake. What a sight! The largest natural freshwater lake in the west. I see what they mean when they say Montana is the last best place. It's breathtaking. Literally.
As soon as we set up camp--again we scored with a somewhat secluded spot--we jumped into the ice-cold lake. Following our dip, we drove through the historic downtown of Bigfork, which is drawn straight out of an old movie or novel. It couldn't have been more picturesque, with its patriotic bunting and banners hanging from the two-story mercantile and all the cafes.
Our evening consisted of another gourmet campfire dinner, wine, and watching the sun set over Flathead Lake. though it's getting chilly back at camp, the sun is still burning bright as it descends in the west. Both of us sit here wishing we had our swimsuits on like the many other folks who continue to jump from the boulder-lined beach well after 9 p.m. This is a summer night if I ever saw one.
We woke earlier than the day before, hustled to prepare coffee, breakfast, and then Taylor darted for the river. I cleaned up camp and have been obsessed with my book, so time alone is welcomed. Once Taylor returned, we put the pedal to the metal and jetted back to Missoula for a late-morning run.
We wanted to climb Mt. Sentinel to the giant "M" above the university. We started downtown, and by the time we'd (I'd) made it around several switchbacks, I was beat. We climbed much higher than the actual "M" and visions of our South Sister climb flashed back. Once we finished, we hit the Kettlehouse for a local beer and some insider info on Glacier, then we got back in the car and headed north.
The drive to Glacier is gorgeous, but so far in Montana, I haven't been disappointed with any of the views. Once we made it up to Bigfork, we decided to camp for the night, at a state park called Wayfarers. These state parks are swanky, I tell you. Bathrooms, showers, and great access points to Flathead Lake. What a sight! The largest natural freshwater lake in the west. I see what they mean when they say Montana is the last best place. It's breathtaking. Literally.
As soon as we set up camp--again we scored with a somewhat secluded spot--we jumped into the ice-cold lake. Following our dip, we drove through the historic downtown of Bigfork, which is drawn straight out of an old movie or novel. It couldn't have been more picturesque, with its patriotic bunting and banners hanging from the two-story mercantile and all the cafes.
Our evening consisted of another gourmet campfire dinner, wine, and watching the sun set over Flathead Lake. though it's getting chilly back at camp, the sun is still burning bright as it descends in the west. Both of us sit here wishing we had our swimsuits on like the many other folks who continue to jump from the boulder-lined beach well after 9 p.m. This is a summer night if I ever saw one.
Tuesday, January 27, 2015
July 7, 2014 - The Great American Road Trip Part III
{Side note: I have to laugh a bit at just how long it's taken me to post these passages. Pretty much the story of my life. I've uploaded all my holiday photos, just waiting to write a brief note about the holly, jolly festivities, but I told myself I can't do that until I finish my summer musings.}
...
After I put my journal down last night, we encountered a couple visitors at our campsite--two deer, keen on snacking just feet from us. They must have loved that specific foliage, as our rustling around didn't scare them at all. My camera sat inside the car, and I didn't want to risk their running away to retrieve it. We hit the pillow after s'mores and a nightcap, just as the daylight finally fizzled out.
When we awoke in the morning, neither of us wanted to emerge from the tent. We were sure it was just dawn like it seems to be every time we wake camping. Taylor got out first and exuberantly exclaimed it was 8:30! We slept more than ten hours, which I attribute to the air mattress and the fortress of solitude in which we camped. We threw together oatmeal and a pot of coffee--another brilliant luxury of car camping--and we packed the car for our departure.
We stopped twice along Fish Creek as we exited the winding road, I dove deeper into my book, soaked up some sun rays, while Taylor unfortunately couldn't prove the creek true to its name. We stopped to photograph the derailment disaster that made local headlines--a train carrying fuselages derailed and a few of the planes plummeted into the creek. We'd never seen anything like it.
Then, we hit the open road again, passing through Missoula en route to Hamilton, in the Bitterroot Valley. We pulled up to a campsite that could not have been any more the antithesis {questionable grammar there} of yesterday's experience, with bathrooms, SHOWERS, a store, and ... people. Luckily, there was a semi-tucked-away slot in the back of the campground, butting up to the river. I could easily do without the amenities, and I don't enjoy the additional people. Tomorrow we'll be headed elsewhere again, though, so for tonight it will do just fine.
I posted up at the campsite, and Taylor tromped down the back of the river. Just as I was about the take off on a run (believe it or not there is a paved walkway from Lolo all the way through Hamilton), Taylor walked up and shared the good news. He caught a brown trout. {Collective sigh.} The only bit of this news that came with any despair was the fact that he was alone in his success. There was no one to enjoy it with him before he released the sucker back into the Bitterroot. Rather than running, I packed up my camp chair and accompanied Taylor back down the river, where I perched on the bank as he tried to recreate history. No fish this time, so we headed back to camp for dinner and perhaps some post-feast fishing.
Monday, January 26, 2015
July 6, 2014 - The Great American Road Trip Part II
No alarm clock, please. I mean, what's the point? We are on vacation, regardless of the impending check-out time. We slept until about 8, and we slapped on some running clothes. A quick bite at the complementary continental breakfast, and we were off to the highly recommended fly shop, followed by a hearty run along the river and past the university. We made it back to our "motel" by 11:30--just enough time to shower and be out by noon.
I made Taylor and me sandwiches on the side of the road in downtown Missoula, out the tailgate of our SUV. I felt like my mom, pulling it all together right there in the car. We planned to strategize (is this even a word?) the next few days at a local coffee shop, maps in hand, but we walked into the local running store first, which also came highly recommended from our dear friends. Not only did we pick up some gear and an invitation to run the city marathon or beer run next weekend, but we received some great recommendations for fly-fishing and camping spots, some more remote and less-traveled than those suggested at the fly shop. We semi-changed our tentative plans and opted to embark on these leads.
We backtracked from Missoula and ended up at Fish Creek. After winding many, many miles off the highway, along a dirt road, we made it to the Hole in the Wall Lodge, part of the Hole in the Wall Ranch--honestly and easily the most remote oasis I was just not expecting. There were cabins for rent and a sweet 20-something who ran up to our car to greet us when we arrived. We'd been told there was camping, and she directed us up the road about a mile, where we found our new home for who knows how many nights. We're nestled in a camp slot--just one of three--along the creek. There's no cell service, which is idyllic. I turned my phone off before we left Missoula, but there is something extra freeing about the inability to connect or be reached. Who do we really need to talk to besides each other? We told our co-workers we were anticipating going off the grid, and our families know that, too.
The air is so crisp here, and the colors are vivid. It's like Central Oregon in a way, except more wild, if that even remotely makes sense. Right now, I'm sitting along the creek while Taylor fly-fishes. He's left my line of sight, but right now he's in his heaven, and his heart must be singing. He's never been to Montana, and this trip has always been on our radar, so it's pretty fun to be realizing this little dream together. I know he feels something spiritual when he's in, on the bank of, or in sight of a river. Different than a lake, it's always moving and changing. It's unpredictable and something to admire and also fear, in the sense of respect. It's Mother Nature, after all. No human created this beauty and splendor.
I'm not wearing a watch, but the sun's placement makes me think it's around 4 or 5. We've already set-up camp, and our only to-dos are cooking dinner and starting a campfire. Almost all of our previous camping trips have included the rain and cold, so I'm pretty thrilled to be writing in the mid-summer heat, with my roadtrip uniform on--cutoff jean shorts and a V-neck T-shirt, instead of shaking and pouting as the rain seeps through my slicker. This is the life. Right now. No place I'd rather be.
I made Taylor and me sandwiches on the side of the road in downtown Missoula, out the tailgate of our SUV. I felt like my mom, pulling it all together right there in the car. We planned to strategize (is this even a word?) the next few days at a local coffee shop, maps in hand, but we walked into the local running store first, which also came highly recommended from our dear friends. Not only did we pick up some gear and an invitation to run the city marathon or beer run next weekend, but we received some great recommendations for fly-fishing and camping spots, some more remote and less-traveled than those suggested at the fly shop. We semi-changed our tentative plans and opted to embark on these leads.
We backtracked from Missoula and ended up at Fish Creek. After winding many, many miles off the highway, along a dirt road, we made it to the Hole in the Wall Lodge, part of the Hole in the Wall Ranch--honestly and easily the most remote oasis I was just not expecting. There were cabins for rent and a sweet 20-something who ran up to our car to greet us when we arrived. We'd been told there was camping, and she directed us up the road about a mile, where we found our new home for who knows how many nights. We're nestled in a camp slot--just one of three--along the creek. There's no cell service, which is idyllic. I turned my phone off before we left Missoula, but there is something extra freeing about the inability to connect or be reached. Who do we really need to talk to besides each other? We told our co-workers we were anticipating going off the grid, and our families know that, too.
The air is so crisp here, and the colors are vivid. It's like Central Oregon in a way, except more wild, if that even remotely makes sense. Right now, I'm sitting along the creek while Taylor fly-fishes. He's left my line of sight, but right now he's in his heaven, and his heart must be singing. He's never been to Montana, and this trip has always been on our radar, so it's pretty fun to be realizing this little dream together. I know he feels something spiritual when he's in, on the bank of, or in sight of a river. Different than a lake, it's always moving and changing. It's unpredictable and something to admire and also fear, in the sense of respect. It's Mother Nature, after all. No human created this beauty and splendor.
I'm not wearing a watch, but the sun's placement makes me think it's around 4 or 5. We've already set-up camp, and our only to-dos are cooking dinner and starting a campfire. Almost all of our previous camping trips have included the rain and cold, so I'm pretty thrilled to be writing in the mid-summer heat, with my roadtrip uniform on--cutoff jean shorts and a V-neck T-shirt, instead of shaking and pouting as the rain seeps through my slicker. This is the life. Right now. No place I'd rather be.
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
July 5, 2014 - The Great American Road Trip Part I
From Lake Oswego to Montana...God's Country at its finest
{Author's Note: Here I am, finally adding my journal entries from our favorite week of 2014.}
Day 1 - July 5
After quickly stripping the exterior of the house of its red, white, and blue holiday decor, we scrambled to make our final preparations for this unplanned, yet planned, road trip. The first Fourth in our new home was not to be missed, and I dragged my husband to the town parade and lakeside fireworks show. Both events are must-sees, and we'll elaborate on these traditions in the years to come, I'm just sure of it.
The ability to load a car and rooftop box with more than the necessities was a new concept for me, as Taylor and I have spent most of our camping excursions as part of backpacking trips, which means minimalism is a definitive. For this trip, I planned campfire meals--a week's worth--just as I would my typical routine, but indulged in some fancy jarred sauces, along with other heavy items typically on the "no fly" list for backpacking. We also invested in some additional camping gear not part of our overwhelming "outdoor gear" garage department. Thanks to some sweet friends, we saved our recreational goods wedding gift cards for a moment like this, and now we have a deluxe air mattress and camp stove. This is high-class camping, people.
Back to the packing.
We loaded up the rig and said our final goodbyes to the cat, along with one last glance at our vegetable garden and flower pots, as they'll surely look different when we return. We drove almost straight on through to Pullman, Wash., with quick rest stops in Boardman, Ore., and La Crosse, Wash., a town I'd never driven through. Almost running out of gas will do that to you--force you to see places you've never seen. We spent a few hours and drank a couple beers in P-town, with family-like friends, the Brenans and the Wachters, took a drive through campus, and continued on to Montana--or bust.
We drove through the rolling wheat fields, through towns like Palouse, Wash., and Plummer, Idaho, before crossing around C'oeur d'Alene Lake. I decided on that stretch of drive that much like a feeling I experienced the night before--on Independence Day--that certain images just cannot be captured on camera, no matter how great of a shooter you are.
Just to pause on this side note to elaborate...take a fireworks show. Have you ever tried to snap a photo of the grand finale only to wish you would have just been enjoying that moment, rather than trying to capture the memory? Though having some proof to show others is intriguing, sometimes just soaking it all in ends up more powerful, memorable, and enjoyable. And in today's always-connected, high-tech place of life, there are so few experiences that cannot be recorded and replicated. My argument is that, like the lake fireworks show, the July wheat fields--the rolling hills that are transforming from almost Kelly green to perfectly golden brown--are better enjoyed while driving uninterrupted and undistracted (is that a word?).
The splendor of the lake at C'oeur d'Alene is mighty impressive, too, as is the drive through the mountains that border Idaho and Montana. When we reached Montana, we forgot about the shift to mountain time and realized it would be dark by the time we reached Missoula. I did not want to burn my hotel stay on the first night, but pulling up to a campsite at quarter-to-ten just didn't seem feasible, either. We rolled into one of many breweries Missoula had to offer and patiently waited for our late-night dinner before embarking on Operation Find an Affordable Place to Rest Our Heads. It wasn't too tough, and I was determined we could haggle a good rate anywhere, but we ended up at a place called the Val-U Inn (yes, you read that correctly). Chosen strictly off the cleanliness rating on Priceline.com (a great website, by the way). We were not disappointed, and how can you be when you pour into bed at 12 a.m.? We made it to Montana, and we were overjoyed to be on vacation together for a solid week, something we haven't experienced since our honeymoon. Oh, and the most exciting part for me--being cell phone free for the rest of this trip.
To recap the wildlife seen on Day 1: Elk, deer, cows, coyotes, and porcupines, although those may or may not have been deceased on the roadside.
{Author's Note: Here I am, finally adding my journal entries from our favorite week of 2014.}
Day 1 - July 5
After quickly stripping the exterior of the house of its red, white, and blue holiday decor, we scrambled to make our final preparations for this unplanned, yet planned, road trip. The first Fourth in our new home was not to be missed, and I dragged my husband to the town parade and lakeside fireworks show. Both events are must-sees, and we'll elaborate on these traditions in the years to come, I'm just sure of it.
The ability to load a car and rooftop box with more than the necessities was a new concept for me, as Taylor and I have spent most of our camping excursions as part of backpacking trips, which means minimalism is a definitive. For this trip, I planned campfire meals--a week's worth--just as I would my typical routine, but indulged in some fancy jarred sauces, along with other heavy items typically on the "no fly" list for backpacking. We also invested in some additional camping gear not part of our overwhelming "outdoor gear" garage department. Thanks to some sweet friends, we saved our recreational goods wedding gift cards for a moment like this, and now we have a deluxe air mattress and camp stove. This is high-class camping, people.
Back to the packing.
We loaded up the rig and said our final goodbyes to the cat, along with one last glance at our vegetable garden and flower pots, as they'll surely look different when we return. We drove almost straight on through to Pullman, Wash., with quick rest stops in Boardman, Ore., and La Crosse, Wash., a town I'd never driven through. Almost running out of gas will do that to you--force you to see places you've never seen. We spent a few hours and drank a couple beers in P-town, with family-like friends, the Brenans and the Wachters, took a drive through campus, and continued on to Montana--or bust.
We drove through the rolling wheat fields, through towns like Palouse, Wash., and Plummer, Idaho, before crossing around C'oeur d'Alene Lake. I decided on that stretch of drive that much like a feeling I experienced the night before--on Independence Day--that certain images just cannot be captured on camera, no matter how great of a shooter you are.
Just to pause on this side note to elaborate...take a fireworks show. Have you ever tried to snap a photo of the grand finale only to wish you would have just been enjoying that moment, rather than trying to capture the memory? Though having some proof to show others is intriguing, sometimes just soaking it all in ends up more powerful, memorable, and enjoyable. And in today's always-connected, high-tech place of life, there are so few experiences that cannot be recorded and replicated. My argument is that, like the lake fireworks show, the July wheat fields--the rolling hills that are transforming from almost Kelly green to perfectly golden brown--are better enjoyed while driving uninterrupted and undistracted (is that a word?).
The splendor of the lake at C'oeur d'Alene is mighty impressive, too, as is the drive through the mountains that border Idaho and Montana. When we reached Montana, we forgot about the shift to mountain time and realized it would be dark by the time we reached Missoula. I did not want to burn my hotel stay on the first night, but pulling up to a campsite at quarter-to-ten just didn't seem feasible, either. We rolled into one of many breweries Missoula had to offer and patiently waited for our late-night dinner before embarking on Operation Find an Affordable Place to Rest Our Heads. It wasn't too tough, and I was determined we could haggle a good rate anywhere, but we ended up at a place called the Val-U Inn (yes, you read that correctly). Chosen strictly off the cleanliness rating on Priceline.com (a great website, by the way). We were not disappointed, and how can you be when you pour into bed at 12 a.m.? We made it to Montana, and we were overjoyed to be on vacation together for a solid week, something we haven't experienced since our honeymoon. Oh, and the most exciting part for me--being cell phone free for the rest of this trip.
To recap the wildlife seen on Day 1: Elk, deer, cows, coyotes, and porcupines, although those may or may not have been deceased on the roadside.
Monday, December 29, 2014
A toast to our long-distance, lifelong friends
I worked diligently into the night a few weeks back...uploading, downloading, and fitting photos into tiny boxes on an electric calendar template for Taylor. It's one of my annual gifts, a tradition I started back when we were dating, I think. And every Christmas morning, we enjoy looking back on the year when he opens that silly calendar.
.JPG)
.JPG)
My electronic life is a mess. With an archaic home computer, a work computer, a digital camera, and my phone photos, nothing is organized, synchronized, or seamless. It's a clunky process, and figuring out all of this technology is one of my resolutions. That's another story. But for the purposes of this calendar, I searched through several folders, neatly organized electronic photo albums from friends, and relied on photos sent from family to compile this year's edition.
I stumbled upon some great photos I need to share, along with the stories of the accompanying memories.
I know I mentioned a trip out to Austin last May, as well as welcoming our Austin friends to Oregon, but I don't believe I shared the {never before seen!} photos below. We love any and all time we get with Blake and Andrea, and this last year was extra special, with more than a whole week of time together if you add up our trip and theirs. Between wineries, breweries, bicycling, barbecue-ing, sightseeing, kayaking, and just chatting about life, in general, we packed a lot of memories into our time together.
The next visit will be a little less footloose and fancy-free, as the McFarlings will be welcoming a sweet baby girl to their family in a mere matter of weeks. We could not be any happier for this couple. Andrea has been a friend for six or seven (is that right?!) years now, and I feel so blessed and thankful we've kept up our friendship. It's part of the magic of Austin I've always told Taylor about, which he experiences each time he visits, too.
I started writing this post because I wanted to thank Andrea for being a great photographer...she always captures the moments during our time together, and a lot of my calendar footage came from her.
We love watching our great friends become parents, and we know Blake and Andrea will be up there with the best of 'em because of their humility, kindness, care, and concern, among a million other amazing qualities they possess.
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
30 before 30, a work in progress
 |
| Bowen's first trail run (and selfie), outside Sunriver, a couple of weekends ago. |
I feel like we should still be out paddleboarding after work. Eating dinner in the fading sun at 9 p.m.
So many moments have passed without a mention on this here blog. I haven't even rehashed our big roadtrip from July.
We've been running. Literally and figuratively. The days are whooshing by, and the weekends are gone in a blink.
My 30th birthday is approaching not long after we ring in the new year, and I have many-a-goal before then.
Here's my working list. Most of these wishes aren't too exciting, but deadlines excite me. Without further ado:
1) Finish our wedding album
2) Paint and change out fixtures in guest bath
3) Complete a 30-day challenge
4) Host a holiday dinner (plenty of options coming up with Christmas, New Years, Valentines)
5) Make Julia Child's beef bourguignon
6) Organize my digital life, including my writing portfolio
8) Organize my photos
9) Host a multi-course dinner party
10) Make a schedule for finishing my cookbook ... the one I started almost 4 years ago in graduate school
11) Write-up a plan for one of my business ideas
12) Minimize the amount of boxes in the garage
13) Plan our next road trip
...I started this list in two different places, and I'm not sure where that second piece of paper landed.
It's a start.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)