The Gift of Small Things

I stole this from a favorite blog called Dooce. If you don't read anything else this week or this month, you should read this. You won't be sorry ... unless you forgt your kleenex first. (If you tried the link before and it didn't work, try it again. I think I've fixed it.)

The Ladies: Backpack

Two weekends ago, I took my first backpack of the season. My foot doc made it very unclear about exactly when I could go backpacking since my surgery. The end of the summer after Labor Day seemed like a good long while to let my foot heal. It was a great trip.

The Ladies decided to skip the Beartooths this time due to inclement (blizzard) weather and go to the other side of the state on the border of Montana and Idaho. Stanley hot springs is a popular destination but we'd figured that we might have some luck as sole hikers given that it was late in the season.

The Ladies were very gracious taking weight from me (see the size of my backpack compared to theirs) so that I didn't have to worry about putting too much weight on my foot the first time out.

We traveled to a campsite close to the trailhead on Friday night. We stopped at Lolo Hot Springs to have some dinner and a $1.50 Bayern beer - YUM! We camped in the VW van and there it was that I pledged my lifelong love and devotion to the Volkswagon van. Remember friends and family how I told you to commit me to some mental help if I ever decide to buy a van? Let me amend that request to EXCLUE the VW van. It is the BOMB.

That night we sat around drinking another beer before we crawled into our cozy, comfortable, cushiony beds (in the Van) and marveled at the SIZE of the trees. No kidding. At one point, we argued about whether it was a shadow cast from some unknown light (did I mention we had beers?) or a real tree. Finally we decided it was a real-live-honest-to-goodness tree on steroids.

We got to the trailhead and headed on down the trail. It was overcast but didn't rain on us and actually was quite warm on a couple areas on the trail exposed to the sun. It was warm enough to allow a fellow hiker, on his way OUT thankfully, to be hiking BUCK naked. Well ... with the exception of his boots and his backpack. Or I'm assuming he was wearing boots because I didn't look long enough or close enough to figure out what he was wearing - just what he was NOT wearing.

We hiked about 5 miles into the hot springs and were pleasantly surprised by how nice they were. We were unpleasantly surprised by how disgusting the camps were near the hot springs - toilet paper, food packages, trash. We found a spot perched up above the hot springs and camped there. It was nice and close to a small stream where we could get our water for filtering and back far enough from the main trail to keep us from being seen by every hiker along the way.

We soaked in the hot springs both nights while we sipped on the wine we'd earned from the hike. My foot felt especially good after a nice hot soak. And you can see how hot by the foggy look created by the warm water and cool air. Ahhh, so nice.


We kept our camp in the same place both nights. And the second day we decided to start off toward Lottie Lake. The topo map indicated about 4 miles to the lake and we were determined to get there ... until about 2.5-3 miles in and 1800 feet. We'd quietly, without complaint climbed and climbed, but finally decided we'd hike for 15 more minutes and then decide how much further to go. It's difficult to give up the idea of a destination after putting in that much work. On our final 15 minute ascent, we were literally HIT IN THE FACE by huckleberry bushes. FULL of berries. SCORE. Our destination - we need not go any further.

We picked and picked and picked and picked - filled a ziploc bag even after stuffing our faces while we picked. Once we recognized the bushes (because they'd slapped us in the face), we saw them for as far as the eye could see. It was then we realized the mistake of our quiet ascent. A bear's wet dream.

On our hike back out the final day, Monday, we were sad to go. My foot felt great, I was carrying even more weight than I'd packed in and we'd had a great time with The Ladies. On the ride home in the Van, I remember thinking, in my semi-drunk 2-beer state, while I was jamming to the tunes slung by DJ AP: I love ladies and am so glad to be one in the midst of such cool ones doing such cool things in a cool place I call home.

Thanks ladies.

Grandmaw

I spent the last four days in KC with Hubs and family while we said goodbye to dear, sweet Grandmaw Mary. And while she was an amazing 91 years young, the family was shocked to see her go because she was told she had years to live. She did her own crosswords puzzles, still lived in the house where she raised her children and married the love of her life. She still mowed the lawn and got her own groceries. My only contribution to her regular crossword puzzle on the weekend a year ago where I got to know Grandmaw, was the answer Britney to the clue Pop-star Spears. She finished the rest of the puzzle without help She was curious and inquisitive about life until the day she passed on.

Grandmaw would have smiled that big smile if she'd seen the gaggle of grandchildren and great grandchildren that gathered to honor her. We even got to hear a recording of her voice to the oldest cousin in her once-per-year ritual message to all of her granchildren on the eve of their birthdays: "Goodnight you little 39-year old."

Rest in peace, sweet Grandmaw. May the lesson of your life carry on through your children, our children and the rest of those you've touched. I feel blessed to have gotten to know you.