Lava Lake
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Saturday, June 24, 2006
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.
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.
Wednesday, June 07, 2006
Ahh. Summertime.
My windshield is cracked. I can't breathe or smell out of my nose, which also means I can't really taste anything either. My medication makes me drowsy. No matter how hard I clean, my apartment will still be covered in tree pollen. I am running out of those precious horse-pills that allow me to sleep through most of the night. I have no health insurance. Gas is expensive and so are my pills. It's more like Ahh Choo, summertime.
Now that you are undoubtedly feeling sorry for me I would like to continue my rant on allergies in an effort to educate everyone on the life of this struggling outdoors-woman. Most of my siblings would agree that I seem to have an unending stream of good luck that travels with me wherever I go. And I would tend to agree with them although I believe open-mindedness has everything to do with it. Someone recently told me about a man that spent a year saying “yes” to everything. He ended up getting married, traveling around the world, trying a lot of different drugs and having some amazing experiences. Personally, I would probably limit myself to saying “yes” to things that are legal. I decided to put this experiment into practice by saying “yes” more instead of thinking or analyzing them too much and deciding not to do something.
I tend to think about things too much. For example, if someone invites me to do something my first thought is that they are only inviting me because Jay is gone and they feel sorry for me, not because they actually might enjoy my company. Then I worry about the event: who else will be there? What if I say something stupid? What if no one talks to me? What should I wear? What if I have an allergy attack? Will there be tissues around? Etc... Jay always encourages me to accept any and every invitation, and I do, and I always end up having a great time. So why do I still worry about all of those stupid things? I don't really have an answer for that, but the more I try new things, the more comfortable I am saying “yes” and not giving it a second thought.
Bozeman, Montana is an amazing place to be right now in my life because it is a huge adult playground. Hiking, boating, fishing, climbing, biking, camping and loads of winter sports are all just a 37 steps down from my apartment door. Plus, there is never a lack of people that want to do something outside. For people like me that have seasonal allergies, it isn't always easy saying “yes” to every activity. I have to factor in several things that most people wouldn't even think about just so I can be as comfortable as possible. What kinds of plants are growing in the area we are going to? Will my skin come in contact with those plants? How long will we be there? If we stay overnight, is there a place for me to rinse off all of the pollen and dust in my hair and on my skin before I go to sleep? How much tissue do I need to bring? Is it going to be enough? If my eyes or skin starts itching, do I have something with me that will help like cream or an anti-histamine? Will I be able to get away from whatever is making me sick? People that have never experienced seasonal allergies really don't get it. It is easy for them to forget or tell me that I'll be fine...I wish it was that easy for me.
Normally in the summertime I go through about one large box of Kleenex a week. That is somewhere around 150 tissues. This might sound like an exaggeration, it isn't. Sometimes, in order to conserve tissues, I will just sit with them up my nose blocking the constant flow of snot. I remember my mom laughing at me when I would resort to this technique growing up. There are lots of times when I would like to do this in public but I don't think it would be received as humorous. I have also developed a noticeably loud “honk” when I blow my nose. I have tried to blow my nose softly, but it just isn't as effective. I was in a coffee shop earlier this evening and got fed up sniffing the snot up so I blew them out. I was able to attract a few surprised looks, mostly because they can't believe that noise came out of that 20-something gal and not an old man. For the people that are still staring, I embarrassingly nod my head and raise my eyebrows at them acknowledging that, “yes, that was me, now you can stop staring”.
It is hot in Bozeman. I grew up in an air-conditioned house. My apartment is not air-conditioned. If I want to cool down I have to open up the windows letting in the dust and pollen. When I go to bed I have to think about getting that pollen and dust in my sheets. I won't be able to see it, but I know it's there because I spend all night sneezing. That means I will have to lay in it every single night until I wash them again. I wish I didn't have to think about things like whether or not I should open my windows. It is just a part of my life; right up there with having silk flowers at my wedding, peeling all fruits before I eat them, and showering as soon as possible after being outside. I developed a routine for myself in an attempt to reduce my allergic reactions, sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.
School is officially over tomorrow and the air is electric with the thunderstorms rolling through. I graduated from my WFR class without a hitch and now feel comfortable with my ability to help someone if we are not near a hospital. The class was challenging but we were able to practice all of the skills we learned on each other. In one simulation I had a bloody head wound and a dislocated shoulder. My rescuers did a good job bandaging me up. I had a hard time getting the fake blood off of my head because it has red food coloring in it and it dyed my skin.
I have been having a lot of fun outside lately. I've been to a couple of live music shows, hiking and soaking in the local hot springs. Because there weren't any subbing calls this week, I spent the time hanging out with some of my favorite kids, the special ed kids at the high school. Yesterday we went hiking up to the “M” and today we had a picnic at a park for their last day of school. These kids have really grown on me and I am hoping for a permanent opportunity to work with them next school year. This weekend I'm planning on going camping, hopefully I'll only need one box of kleenex.
Now that you are undoubtedly feeling sorry for me I would like to continue my rant on allergies in an effort to educate everyone on the life of this struggling outdoors-woman. Most of my siblings would agree that I seem to have an unending stream of good luck that travels with me wherever I go. And I would tend to agree with them although I believe open-mindedness has everything to do with it. Someone recently told me about a man that spent a year saying “yes” to everything. He ended up getting married, traveling around the world, trying a lot of different drugs and having some amazing experiences. Personally, I would probably limit myself to saying “yes” to things that are legal. I decided to put this experiment into practice by saying “yes” more instead of thinking or analyzing them too much and deciding not to do something.
I tend to think about things too much. For example, if someone invites me to do something my first thought is that they are only inviting me because Jay is gone and they feel sorry for me, not because they actually might enjoy my company. Then I worry about the event: who else will be there? What if I say something stupid? What if no one talks to me? What should I wear? What if I have an allergy attack? Will there be tissues around? Etc... Jay always encourages me to accept any and every invitation, and I do, and I always end up having a great time. So why do I still worry about all of those stupid things? I don't really have an answer for that, but the more I try new things, the more comfortable I am saying “yes” and not giving it a second thought.
Bozeman, Montana is an amazing place to be right now in my life because it is a huge adult playground. Hiking, boating, fishing, climbing, biking, camping and loads of winter sports are all just a 37 steps down from my apartment door. Plus, there is never a lack of people that want to do something outside. For people like me that have seasonal allergies, it isn't always easy saying “yes” to every activity. I have to factor in several things that most people wouldn't even think about just so I can be as comfortable as possible. What kinds of plants are growing in the area we are going to? Will my skin come in contact with those plants? How long will we be there? If we stay overnight, is there a place for me to rinse off all of the pollen and dust in my hair and on my skin before I go to sleep? How much tissue do I need to bring? Is it going to be enough? If my eyes or skin starts itching, do I have something with me that will help like cream or an anti-histamine? Will I be able to get away from whatever is making me sick? People that have never experienced seasonal allergies really don't get it. It is easy for them to forget or tell me that I'll be fine...I wish it was that easy for me.
Normally in the summertime I go through about one large box of Kleenex a week. That is somewhere around 150 tissues. This might sound like an exaggeration, it isn't. Sometimes, in order to conserve tissues, I will just sit with them up my nose blocking the constant flow of snot. I remember my mom laughing at me when I would resort to this technique growing up. There are lots of times when I would like to do this in public but I don't think it would be received as humorous. I have also developed a noticeably loud “honk” when I blow my nose. I have tried to blow my nose softly, but it just isn't as effective. I was in a coffee shop earlier this evening and got fed up sniffing the snot up so I blew them out. I was able to attract a few surprised looks, mostly because they can't believe that noise came out of that 20-something gal and not an old man. For the people that are still staring, I embarrassingly nod my head and raise my eyebrows at them acknowledging that, “yes, that was me, now you can stop staring”.
It is hot in Bozeman. I grew up in an air-conditioned house. My apartment is not air-conditioned. If I want to cool down I have to open up the windows letting in the dust and pollen. When I go to bed I have to think about getting that pollen and dust in my sheets. I won't be able to see it, but I know it's there because I spend all night sneezing. That means I will have to lay in it every single night until I wash them again. I wish I didn't have to think about things like whether or not I should open my windows. It is just a part of my life; right up there with having silk flowers at my wedding, peeling all fruits before I eat them, and showering as soon as possible after being outside. I developed a routine for myself in an attempt to reduce my allergic reactions, sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.
School is officially over tomorrow and the air is electric with the thunderstorms rolling through. I graduated from my WFR class without a hitch and now feel comfortable with my ability to help someone if we are not near a hospital. The class was challenging but we were able to practice all of the skills we learned on each other. In one simulation I had a bloody head wound and a dislocated shoulder. My rescuers did a good job bandaging me up. I had a hard time getting the fake blood off of my head because it has red food coloring in it and it dyed my skin.
I have been having a lot of fun outside lately. I've been to a couple of live music shows, hiking and soaking in the local hot springs. Because there weren't any subbing calls this week, I spent the time hanging out with some of my favorite kids, the special ed kids at the high school. Yesterday we went hiking up to the “M” and today we had a picnic at a park for their last day of school. These kids have really grown on me and I am hoping for a permanent opportunity to work with them next school year. This weekend I'm planning on going camping, hopefully I'll only need one box of kleenex.
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