Monday, November 28, 2005
Of Foxes, Friends and Family
This “weather report” covers June 15 - August 15, 2005, and begins with a hailstorm – one with golf-ball-sized hailstones that I watched bounce off my nice new (2001 Mazda Tribute SUV) car one evening in Montana. The dents wrecked the resale value of my car, not that I was intending to sell it, and I caused me to change its name from White Lightning to The Dent Mobile, and collect $6100 in damage from the insurance company. This amounts to good wages for a summer, and what’s even more enlightening (and pathetic), is that it’s more money than I’ve earned on all my writing projects put together. My son said, “The next time you see a hailstorm coming, holler. I’ll drive my truck over and park it next to your car!”
June continued to be action-packed – with incredible sunsets, fox pups and bluebirds greeting my comings and goings on the two-track road to my cabin, and cold weather. On trips to Helena, I saw quite a lot of my son, Jeff, his wife, Lee, and my adorable granddaughter, Madison. I babysat some, happily, and used their house as a docking station for my electronics (laptop, cell phone) until I discovered how and where else to do it. At the cabin I sorted through all my belongings and bought a storage shed to share with Jeff. The rest of my time was taken up with keeping ice in my cooler (since I had no refrigeration), writing, hiking on the ranch, and driving into Helena for more ice and food as well as buying cool-weather clothing at the thrift stores. I bought several items at sporting goods shops for my big hiking adventure in Europe the end of August. I kept looking at these purchases (trekking poles, micro-fiber clothing you can wash at night and it dries by morning, etc.) as an investment in a positive lifestyle, one that doesn’t involve alcohol.
Toward the end of June I drove over to Pullman, Washington, to stay a few days with my good friend from our days at the Univ. of Idaho. We met in gym class, two non-traditional students—Diana studying architecture, me in landscape architecture, and I became friends with her and her husband, Ray. Unfortunately, Ray died in August 2004, just as they were preparing to move into a new house. Diana and I had a lovely visit. We hiked and sketched one day and had mutual friend Jennifer Rod over to dinner. Jennifer was just back from a motorcycle trip to Colorado and exclaimed about the beauty of Flaming Gorge. We saw another friend from UI days, Bobbie Ryder-Johanson, WSU campus planner, at lunch. Bobbie told us she had bought a cottage near Sandpoint. Diana and I talked frequently on the phone after my visit, until I received a cell phone bill and fainted.
The way the cabin is situated -- in a grove of conifers on a mountainside, looking out at thousands of acres of ranch land across to the Elkhorn Mountains – I felt something like a bird in a nest. The location is good "edge habitat," where I could look out and watch for danger but no one could see me. I learned from the post mistress at Jefferson City that a Chinaman owned much of the rangeland on the mountainside, and lived part of the year in nearby Boulder, MT. Of course, I romanticized the setting and called it all The Chinaman’s Ranch, and I decided to give my next novel, set on a ranch, that title instead of Cowboy School (which my cousin’s wife made me promise NOT to call it). On my hikes I came to imagine that the Chinaman was really quite a hunk of a cowboy, and that I would actually meet him while on one of my hikes – and I dreamed up an entirely new sort of novel to write, one that was more of a bodice-ripper, one in which I did not fend off the Chinaman off with a trekking pole.
I joined the Montana Wilderness Association and went on several hikes with them to train for my turning-sixty hiking adventure – from Budapest to Krakow over the Carpathian Mountains August 19 – 29. The first hike took place near Yellowstone – Windy Pass – a 10 mile hike that reached 10,000 feet – with 22 hikers plus the leaders, and there I was, bringing up the rear. The utterly gorgeous alpine scenery held my attention, but ohmygod, what a death march. One problem was that in early July we can experience serious thunder and lightning storms in mid-afternoon, so we had to get down off the ridge quickly. Remember, I’d been accustomed to living at sea level. To redeem myself in the eyes of the other hikers, I slid down a steep snow field on my butt instead of walking around. I’d done this other times and places, but as I slid faster and faster I used my trekking pole tip as a brake and dug in my boot heels -- plus the heel of my right hand. I did not want to tumble in a heap onto the rocky, muddy outwash below the snow, and I didn’t. My right hand regained feeling about 12 hours later. One young man took my photo so I could prove to the world what I had done, and I’ll try to include it.
Gail Richardson, a naturalist and guide friend from West Yellowstone days, drove over to the ranch from Bozeman to hike with me one day – which was great fun. She’s leading an outing to Fiji in November, and leads many trips for organizations like the World Wildlife Fund. On another day I drove down to Whitehall, MT, on I-90 to have lunch with my sister, Marian, and her nice new husband, Everett. They were on their way to Northern Idaho. Those two are a couple love birds, and I’m very happy for my sister, who deserves every happiness.
On another MWA outing, a Forest Service friend, Jodie, led an excellent hike in the Elkhorn Mountains, where she’d made a lot of good things happen over the past 13 or so years. Her focus was to coordinate management of this mountain range, no small thing with so many different agencies involved. Her new boyfriend was on the hike, a nice and fun professor at MSU (and a sex therapist), and no, I did NOT ask him any questions about his work. Jodie is now with the Gallatin National Forest in Bozeman as an ecologist.
My friends who own the cabin I rented, Martin and Suzanne, came out one evening for a BBQ. Jeff, Lee and Madison joined us. M & S had volunteered again as caretakers at Kirkwood Ranch on the Snake River during June, and they showed us lots of photos of that lovely setting in that stunning canyon. They were planning a trip to Norway later in the summer, since Martin is of Norwegian descent.
All summer long I hiked and explored The Chinaman’s Ranch, never once running into the Chinaman; however, I did lose my fear of the horses. When they came running toward me, I worked at trusting they would stop – and they always did. One of my Helena friends, Sarah, tells me that horses are symbolic of freedom and other good things, that they were greeting me and telling me something hopeful. The coyotes howled but kept themselves hidden. I painted some small pastels and took lots of photos. I sniffed sagebrush and found Bitterroot flowers (the MT State flower). In the early mornings I watched Ruprecht, my resident squirrel, sunbathe on his favorite Douglas fir branch.
Oh, and I forgot to mention Boulder Hot Springs – about 20 minutes south of the cabin. Once a week I went there to soak and swim and to get a thorough deep-tissue massage to help heal my body from the stresses and strains of life and work. Several times, Lee and Madison drove down from Helena to meet me there and swim with me a while before my massage sessions, and these times are so special and precious to me. I could write an entire book about how fun and smart and utterly delightful Madison is – how she knows exactly who she is and what she wants, and can communicate it all without throwing a fit. How she isn’t even two years old and speaks in whole sentences (okay, it’s sometimes only a noun and a verb, but that qualifies), how when she’s riding in the car and you pull out onto a street she will yell, “Hang on!” How she says, “moooooooo” (because I lived where there are cows) and/or “Oh, dear!” in the most dramatic way when she sees me (because I say it so much in lieu of cussing when I’m around her). I relearned much from Madison – and one thing is to be gleeful about small things, and that large things always pass.
Another big training hike with the MWA was in the Tobacco Root Mts. Over a weekend, we hiked and talked about geology with the director of a college geology field station near Pony. We were up among cirque lakes and other incredible scenery, some of which I believe was Precambrian.
Then came the big birthday weekend. Jeff, Lee, Madison and I drove The Dent Mobile to Big Foggy, my favorite place in the world north of Priest River, ID. The party honored several of us turning 60: Me; Sherry’s husband, Sam; cousin and friend Carol Cook, an anthropologist from Indonesia. Penny and John, Kathryn (Sherry and Penny’s mother) and many other loved ones were there. It was a real celebration of The Growing Brainless Together Club, and what a wonderful time we had. Jeff, Lee, Madison and I also saw sisters Jeannie, Laurel and Patsy while we were in Priest River.
On about August 15, I tearfully said goodbye to Ruprecht the squirrel, to the fox pups and bluebirds, the cows and horses. I moved out of the cabin and flew to Budapest. But since I realize how long this letter is getting, I will wait to write about the big European hiking adventure and what came after that in the next weather report, which will happen soon.
Thank you, dear friends, for your kind attention to my letter. Writing it reminded me of the joyful time I had reconnecting with so many old friends and with family members this summer – and how much I appreciate everyone’s support and kindness during this transitional time, as well as the generous use of the cabin on the Montana mountainside and Penny and John's beloved cabin at Big Foggy. I couldn’t have asked for a better summer during which to celebrate turning sixty.
June continued to be action-packed – with incredible sunsets, fox pups and bluebirds greeting my comings and goings on the two-track road to my cabin, and cold weather. On trips to Helena, I saw quite a lot of my son, Jeff, his wife, Lee, and my adorable granddaughter, Madison. I babysat some, happily, and used their house as a docking station for my electronics (laptop, cell phone) until I discovered how and where else to do it. At the cabin I sorted through all my belongings and bought a storage shed to share with Jeff. The rest of my time was taken up with keeping ice in my cooler (since I had no refrigeration), writing, hiking on the ranch, and driving into Helena for more ice and food as well as buying cool-weather clothing at the thrift stores. I bought several items at sporting goods shops for my big hiking adventure in Europe the end of August. I kept looking at these purchases (trekking poles, micro-fiber clothing you can wash at night and it dries by morning, etc.) as an investment in a positive lifestyle, one that doesn’t involve alcohol.
Toward the end of June I drove over to Pullman, Washington, to stay a few days with my good friend from our days at the Univ. of Idaho. We met in gym class, two non-traditional students—Diana studying architecture, me in landscape architecture, and I became friends with her and her husband, Ray. Unfortunately, Ray died in August 2004, just as they were preparing to move into a new house. Diana and I had a lovely visit. We hiked and sketched one day and had mutual friend Jennifer Rod over to dinner. Jennifer was just back from a motorcycle trip to Colorado and exclaimed about the beauty of Flaming Gorge. We saw another friend from UI days, Bobbie Ryder-Johanson, WSU campus planner, at lunch. Bobbie told us she had bought a cottage near Sandpoint. Diana and I talked frequently on the phone after my visit, until I received a cell phone bill and fainted.
The way the cabin is situated -- in a grove of conifers on a mountainside, looking out at thousands of acres of ranch land across to the Elkhorn Mountains – I felt something like a bird in a nest. The location is good "edge habitat," where I could look out and watch for danger but no one could see me. I learned from the post mistress at Jefferson City that a Chinaman owned much of the rangeland on the mountainside, and lived part of the year in nearby Boulder, MT. Of course, I romanticized the setting and called it all The Chinaman’s Ranch, and I decided to give my next novel, set on a ranch, that title instead of Cowboy School (which my cousin’s wife made me promise NOT to call it). On my hikes I came to imagine that the Chinaman was really quite a hunk of a cowboy, and that I would actually meet him while on one of my hikes – and I dreamed up an entirely new sort of novel to write, one that was more of a bodice-ripper, one in which I did not fend off the Chinaman off with a trekking pole.
I joined the Montana Wilderness Association and went on several hikes with them to train for my turning-sixty hiking adventure – from Budapest to Krakow over the Carpathian Mountains August 19 – 29. The first hike took place near Yellowstone – Windy Pass – a 10 mile hike that reached 10,000 feet – with 22 hikers plus the leaders, and there I was, bringing up the rear. The utterly gorgeous alpine scenery held my attention, but ohmygod, what a death march. One problem was that in early July we can experience serious thunder and lightning storms in mid-afternoon, so we had to get down off the ridge quickly. Remember, I’d been accustomed to living at sea level. To redeem myself in the eyes of the other hikers, I slid down a steep snow field on my butt instead of walking around. I’d done this other times and places, but as I slid faster and faster I used my trekking pole tip as a brake and dug in my boot heels -- plus the heel of my right hand. I did not want to tumble in a heap onto the rocky, muddy outwash below the snow, and I didn’t. My right hand regained feeling about 12 hours later. One young man took my photo so I could prove to the world what I had done, and I’ll try to include it.
Gail Richardson, a naturalist and guide friend from West Yellowstone days, drove over to the ranch from Bozeman to hike with me one day – which was great fun. She’s leading an outing to Fiji in November, and leads many trips for organizations like the World Wildlife Fund. On another day I drove down to Whitehall, MT, on I-90 to have lunch with my sister, Marian, and her nice new husband, Everett. They were on their way to Northern Idaho. Those two are a couple love birds, and I’m very happy for my sister, who deserves every happiness.
On another MWA outing, a Forest Service friend, Jodie, led an excellent hike in the Elkhorn Mountains, where she’d made a lot of good things happen over the past 13 or so years. Her focus was to coordinate management of this mountain range, no small thing with so many different agencies involved. Her new boyfriend was on the hike, a nice and fun professor at MSU (and a sex therapist), and no, I did NOT ask him any questions about his work. Jodie is now with the Gallatin National Forest in Bozeman as an ecologist.
My friends who own the cabin I rented, Martin and Suzanne, came out one evening for a BBQ. Jeff, Lee and Madison joined us. M & S had volunteered again as caretakers at Kirkwood Ranch on the Snake River during June, and they showed us lots of photos of that lovely setting in that stunning canyon. They were planning a trip to Norway later in the summer, since Martin is of Norwegian descent.
All summer long I hiked and explored The Chinaman’s Ranch, never once running into the Chinaman; however, I did lose my fear of the horses. When they came running toward me, I worked at trusting they would stop – and they always did. One of my Helena friends, Sarah, tells me that horses are symbolic of freedom and other good things, that they were greeting me and telling me something hopeful. The coyotes howled but kept themselves hidden. I painted some small pastels and took lots of photos. I sniffed sagebrush and found Bitterroot flowers (the MT State flower). In the early mornings I watched Ruprecht, my resident squirrel, sunbathe on his favorite Douglas fir branch.
Oh, and I forgot to mention Boulder Hot Springs – about 20 minutes south of the cabin. Once a week I went there to soak and swim and to get a thorough deep-tissue massage to help heal my body from the stresses and strains of life and work. Several times, Lee and Madison drove down from Helena to meet me there and swim with me a while before my massage sessions, and these times are so special and precious to me. I could write an entire book about how fun and smart and utterly delightful Madison is – how she knows exactly who she is and what she wants, and can communicate it all without throwing a fit. How she isn’t even two years old and speaks in whole sentences (okay, it’s sometimes only a noun and a verb, but that qualifies), how when she’s riding in the car and you pull out onto a street she will yell, “Hang on!” How she says, “moooooooo” (because I lived where there are cows) and/or “Oh, dear!” in the most dramatic way when she sees me (because I say it so much in lieu of cussing when I’m around her). I relearned much from Madison – and one thing is to be gleeful about small things, and that large things always pass.
Another big training hike with the MWA was in the Tobacco Root Mts. Over a weekend, we hiked and talked about geology with the director of a college geology field station near Pony. We were up among cirque lakes and other incredible scenery, some of which I believe was Precambrian.
Then came the big birthday weekend. Jeff, Lee, Madison and I drove The Dent Mobile to Big Foggy, my favorite place in the world north of Priest River, ID. The party honored several of us turning 60: Me; Sherry’s husband, Sam; cousin and friend Carol Cook, an anthropologist from Indonesia. Penny and John, Kathryn (Sherry and Penny’s mother) and many other loved ones were there. It was a real celebration of The Growing Brainless Together Club, and what a wonderful time we had. Jeff, Lee, Madison and I also saw sisters Jeannie, Laurel and Patsy while we were in Priest River.
On about August 15, I tearfully said goodbye to Ruprecht the squirrel, to the fox pups and bluebirds, the cows and horses. I moved out of the cabin and flew to Budapest. But since I realize how long this letter is getting, I will wait to write about the big European hiking adventure and what came after that in the next weather report, which will happen soon.
Thank you, dear friends, for your kind attention to my letter. Writing it reminded me of the joyful time I had reconnecting with so many old friends and with family members this summer – and how much I appreciate everyone’s support and kindness during this transitional time, as well as the generous use of the cabin on the Montana mountainside and Penny and John's beloved cabin at Big Foggy. I couldn’t have asked for a better summer during which to celebrate turning sixty.
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