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. 

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.

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.

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. 

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. 

30 before 30, a work in progress

Bowen's first trail run (and selfie), outside Sunriver, a couple of weekends ago.

This year. How is it November? Almost Thanksgiving?

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
7) Get some freelance work again 
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.

The next generation Coug

Don't think for a minute I haven't started loosely planning Lily's first Moms Weekend at Wazzu in 2031. Crazy Auntie Kate and her mom, reliving the glory days and pointing out every nook and cranny of Pullman where memories were made. Gosh I hope she chooses WSU. 

Photos at Casa de Lagreid, prior to the Cougs' "home opener" in Seattle, Thursday, Aug. 28.

June highlights before September is over

This is how I roll right now. Scrolling through my phone to find the highlights of the month, which was actually about four months ago now. But that's just how this is going to be until the rain keeps me inside and at my desk from fall into eternity...or at least next July.

Lake town living.

Not everyone can pull off red, but Whitney made it look easy graduating from college. 

Moonlighting as a home decorator...something I am most definitely not! 

Meeting the parents. Our dog's parents, that is. 

Life with Lily in Sunriver. 

Senor Lagreid's triathlete serenade.

There will be one more in this photo next June. 

And we'll have our own dog, not just our goddog.

Besties with baby.

The whole motley crew.