I touched snow today!

My Saturday started off like nearly every other: sleep late, roll out of bed, find something edible in my kitchen, and ponder what in the he** I am going to do by myself all day. While I was munching on my Honey Nut Shredded Wheat around 11am, I decided to be adventurous and go on a hike that I have never gone on before. So, I hopped on the couch and grabbed my laptop and started searching. There are probably hundreds of hikes to go on in this area. I am slightly limited because, a) I am alone and b) I drive a minivan. While it is a super cool vehicle (wink@Chris) for a childless woman of my age to drive, it just can't climb the mountain trails like a 4x4.

I had my roommate recommend a couple of local trails a few days ago but I wasn't feeling motivated to do any of those...I wanted something further and maybe more exciting, possibly leading to water. A few days ago there was a helicopter rescue of a woman that was injured or lost (I don't remember) somewhere in the mountains. Our lovely local news anchors were reminding people not to hike alone in remote areas. Since most of the hiking trails within 100 miles of Bozeman are located in "remote areas" I had to try and pick one that would be fairly populated with other hikers. I chose Fairy Lake. I like fairies and I love lakes, it seemed like a great combo. I packed my stinky Nalgene bottle and an orange into my backpack along with my cell phone, which will be at least 20 miles out of range of any service and therefore very useful in case of an emergency; wallet, so they can ID my bones if I get lost or attacked by a bear; kleenex (of course), allergy pills, and lip gloss, I wouldn't want my rescuers to find me with parched lips.

Just as I was driving through the mountain pass on the way to the Bridgers I got a call from Jay. I was able to say "hi" before it cut off. I hadn't told anyone where I was going, hopefully it would be okay. I was starting to have second thoughts because I had never been to this place before, but the wild side of me said everything would be fine. I kept driving.

After driving for about 25 minutes down a windy narrow road, I arrived at the turn off for Fairy Lake. It was a dirt road, Baja style, and the sign said the lake was 7 miles away. I took it pretty slow and thought that I was making fairly good time until I saw the 1 mile marker. 10 minutes later the van started overheating and I had just passed the second mile marker. I figured I could walk faster than the van and found a small area to turn around in and park the van. I put a sign on my windshield that said that my van could not make the drive but I was going to continue on foot. I had only walked about a quarter of a mile before a large, black pickup truck pulled up and the two smiling women inside offered me a ride. I inquired about the road ahead and they assured me it was a long way up to the lake...I thought it was only 5 more miles, but I trusted them and hopped in the back seat. They were friendly New-Yorkers and had made the trip up to the lake only once before but had really liked it. The road was horrible and I was thankful that I had not attempted to drive further in the van. I was rocketed back and forth as we sped over the mini-valleys created by rain washout. We were climbing steadily and I could see the mountain peaks growing ahead of us.

We reached the Fairy Lake campgrounds and I offered my thanks for the ride and headed on my way to see the lake. Unfortunately, the hike to the lake was only a quarter of a mile from the campsite, so much for my hike. The lake was small, deep and overcrowded. There were a rowdy group of men camping on the edge of the lake playing baseball with a plastic pipe and a wad of duck tape. I can only assume their excitement for the game was enhanced by all of the beer they were drinking, because it didn't look like that much fun to me. There was also a group on horseback and a few families and small children. While I was walking around I saw that there was still a bunch of snow on the north faces of the hill that hadn't melted yet. Like a little kid, I grabbed a dirty handful and balled it up excitedly. Then, I realized that I had no one to throw it at, so I just held it until my hand got too cold. After circling the lake I decided to check out the trail to Sacajawea Peak. It appeared to be a steep climb, over 9,000 feet, and there were scree fields all over. I wasn't feeling that adventurous. I headed back down the road towards my van, at least I had a good five mile walk ahead of me. The way down was very dusty because there were hoards of people driving up to the lake. My only regret of the day is that I forgot to bring my camera with me. There were streams flowing all the way down the road and meadows lush with wildflowers. The sound of moving water has always been comforting to me and made my walk that much more enjoyable. I got to thinking about how much I miss Jay. It will be really nice to have him back here in the fall. There are lots of places I would love to take him to.