Birch Lake day hike

Evan and I spent the morning hiking to Birch Lake in the Jewel Basin. It's a 3 mile hike to the lake, plus another 1/3 of a mile along the lake to our chosen lunch spot. I tried to get him to hike around the lake before we headed back, but I knew I was pushing my luck. Evan didn't want to go on a 6 mile hike to begin with. He wanted me to pick something shorter, but I really wanted him to see this spot and I couldn't think of another hike that could compare to this in terms of beauty and accessibility, so I made him go. He wasn't happy and he let me know several times... After about an hour of being out on the trail though, things began to lighten up and get fun.

 There were lots of wildflowers along the way. Oh, and bees.


It's August 5th, and I was a little surprised to see so many flowers. It seems everything happens here a little late. The back side of the ridge was still full of snow and impassable just a couple weeks ago. Usually by October there are snow drifts accumulating there again. The short time we can enjoy this area each year is precious, and I don't mind leaving the grass a little shaggy, complete  with a few dry spots from neglect if it means I can spend time in the Jewel.

 There is still a small patch of snow up on the mountain there. It's slowly melting off into Martha's lake in the small valley down below.

 I liked the way the light was raking across the rock in this picture.

 This is our first view of Birch Lake after rounding a corner on the trail. Bam!

I always wish I would have taken more pictures. We did have a good time though, and these are always   special trips for me. I love taking Evan on trips like this, and although he fights it I think he ends up liking them too. If not now, I think he will look back on them some day and appreciate them.

The Jog Strap!

Here's a nice little advert you may find informative. It could revolutionize your workouts!

Racing the Sun

The days are short this time of year, and sneaking in a daylight run is sometimes difficult.

I drove home with zest, and raced to the bedroom to change. I hadn't ran in two days, and I really felt like I needed to, or maybe I just really wanted to. At any rate, I felt like I deserved it, and I was going out to enjoy this run; to nurture myself.  I decided where I was going before I had my shoes laced. A favorite spot up in the foothills above Flathead Lake, nearly 6 miles round trip.

The snow was nearly non-existent and the air was unseasonably warm. I decided to run the loop backwards from the direction I normally run so that I would get to the overlook cliff before the sun set and I might have some good light for photos. Along the lake, and up the trail before gaining any elevation the light was flat and blue. The snow had a soggy crunch underneath my lightweight racing flats. It was like tramping across a huge Icee that had begun to soften. The Icee had exposed a couple of lightly trodden offshoots which I explored this day. The travel was short as the paths abruptly yielded to granite cliffs, wild rose, cottonwoods, and lodgepole pine. I continued on my normal route (still backwards) until I chugged slowly up the steep hill to my favorite old dead tree. A Grand Fir, or perhaps a Ponderosa Pine, maybe neither one but it has character, and I wish I could hear its story. The golden late afternoon light shinned brightly on it, and I stopped for a self portrait in front her. It leans to one side, and it's brittle and dry. I doubt it will remain standing for too many years, but it's home to insects and animals this day. It has beauty and honor, and it very much still has a purpose on Earth, in this life dream we call reality.

I continued on, panting and sweaty, I reach the cliff. Normally I don't stop running when I reach this spot. I slow down momentarily and look out at the lake, down at the road below, and then I'm off again. Not today. Today I stop completely. Long enough to catch my breath and hang my feet over the ledge. I sit still and feel the warmth of the Sun on my skin. I feel precarious up on the ledge, but also tranquil and whole. I have struggles in life, and things are not always perfect, but I'm accepting the imperfection and transcending the bumps along life's path. I work at doing this daily by reading, praying, studying, and I know that my efforts are especially rewarded because of days like today. Days like today that I choose to take for myself, to re-charge, to think, to appreciate, to show gratitude. These times that I choose to run.

Good Morning!

11/19/11

Heavy and wet, the warmed air exits his lungs and lingers around his head briefly before melding into the atmosphere. Another step, his chest expands pulling in yet another frosty hit. Arms swinging, footsteps are rhythmic, efficient, purposeful. Exposed skin burns cold while rivulets of perspiration swell under his jacket and knit hat. Headlamp bobbing, painting the ice and asphalt in a blue pool of visibility. A white peripheral flash startles, four hooves clomp, clack, slip then recover. Determined paths are crossed. The deer scurries through the cottonwood and Lodgepole, intent on reaching safety deeper in the forest. His heartbeat has quickened as a warm shot of adrenalin directs the spine to straighten and the legs to accrue speed. His mind has already calmed but his body must burn off the chemical before resuming the prior pace. A passenger along for the ride, he is suddenly aware of the foreground developing into a small beach and a shimmering silver blue lake. Across the lake a snow capped mountain range surges upward, basked in deep hues of blue and purple. Above the mountains a contrasting tangerine sky is a glorious reward. He is tranquil and fulfilled. He rounds the corner and up the rough asphalt toward home. He is ready now. Prepared for another incredible day.