New Home Tour

Last week the unthinkable happened.  Carl and I officially put down roots in the town of Ennis, MT, population 852.  Everything just fell into place to make this house our home and we are living it up in style.  It's incredibly exciting to have such a wonderful base camp in such a beautiful, welcoming place.  Here, let me take you on a tour:

We'll enter through the front, into the glassed-in porch

It's a fantastic place for shoes, dog towels, and the amazing wood rack that Carl built

The living room greets you with a wall of books and the brand new TV.  Another awesome Carl project.

You'll also find Bubba showing off our uber-effecient wood stove.

On the other side is the couch area

The dining room opens into the kitchen

Luna just doesn't know what to do with all that counter space

From the kitchen you enter the sun room, overlooking the back yard.  There's also a door down to the basement.

Back in the dining room is my letter-writing nook.  The doorway to the left takes you to the bathroom, downstairs bedroom, and the stairs.

Upstairs landing

My craft room, or as Carl calls it, my crap room.

Upstairs bedroom

The back porch, looking towards the street.

Carl's half of the yard, including garage and shop.

My half of the yard, including greenhouse, raised beds, compost pile, and so very many mystery plants.

So there it is!  It's a work in progress and is so much better in person, so you should all come visit.  We'll be here for a while.

Montana Moments

The headwaters of Quake Lake

 Winter means a slower pace of life, with more time to do things like watch the sunrise slowly color the Gravelly Mountains or take the dogs on long, snowy excursions.  On Christmas Eve we got to do both.  With Bubba happily stationed on the couch, we drove south towards West Yellowstone and stopped just short, pulling off at the turnout above Quake Lake.  The dogs were quickly off into the trees while we fumbled with our cross country skis.  Life is much simpler when you have built in studs and four-wheel drive.

The first half of the ski was a clumsy and awkward affair.  Neither of us are particularly proficient on skinny skis, and the undulating terrain didn't make things any easier.  By the time we reached the half-way point we were about ready to chuck the silly things off the bluff.  But since that would mean post-holing our way back to the car, we had no choice but to stick it out.

Then something happened.  It started to snow.  And suddenly everything seemed a little easier.  We slid across the snow with white flakes whispering down, alighting on thick pine trees and hushing any noise besides our heaving breathing.  The dogs were in heaven - darting after rabbit tracks, bounding across snow banks, and driving squirrels up into the trees.  It's hard to have a bad day when faced with wagging tails and lolling tongues.

Back at the car we were all worn out.  The skis made it back to the shed in one piece (this time...), and the dogs were soon curled up in front of the wood stove in post-romp bliss.  As the sun dipped behind the Gravelly Mountains and spread pink fingers across the sky, we settled in for Christmas Eve.

Christmas has come and gone, and now here it is New Years Eve.  It's amazing how quickly it comes around every time.  2014 saw us spend an entire year in Montana, introduced us to our newest mutt Mojo, got us through another action-packed summer season, and now leaves us poised on many new adventures.  Here's wishing everyone a joyous and exciting new year!

Happy New Year!

Snow Safety

While some folks may complain about the cold and the dark that comes with winter, there are those of us who enjoy it as one of the finest seasons to play outside.  With cold comes snow, and with snow comes a whole new set of variables.  With this in mind I spent last weekend attending an avalanche level 1 course at Bell Lake Yurt in the Tobacco Root Mountains, about 45 minutes northwest of Ennis.

Since we haven't had much snow since the storm over Thanksgiving we were able to drive to the trail head, where the six of us students and two instructors attached climbing skins to skis and splitboards, briefly reviewed beacon protocols, and set off up the trail.  It was icy and thin to begin with, the snow gradually deepening and softening as we climbed higher.  We stopped at opportune times to discuss things like terrain traps and getting a group safely through avalanche paths.  About three hours of hiking later we reached Bell Lake Yurt, elevation 8500'.

I've always had a soft spot in my heart for yurts, and this one was no exception.  There were bunk beds along one wall, a wood stove that we soon had cranking, and a fully stocked kitchen complete with propane stove along the other side.  It fit the eight of us and our gear just fine.

 That first day we stayed close to the yurt, learning about our beacons and practicing rescue scenarios.  It's one of those skills you pray you never, ever have to use, because it means things have gone very, very wrong.

The next morning we awoke to gray skies and howling winds, typical of an approaching front.  We hiked up to the lake and skirted the edge to the opposite side, and headed up a small ridge.  Along the way we stopped to dig some snow pits and learn about various tests to evaluate the stability of the snowpack.

 Digging a pit gets faster with practice...or so they tell me.  My team got the prize for the most precise measurements and smoothest walls.  We were also the slowest.

Hooray for digging!

We toured up, stopped for lunch, rode down, then climbed a different slope to dig more pits there and enjoy some open tree skiing.  For many people this was their first time touring, hiking uphill with sticky skins attached to skis, and there was a lot of hands-on learning of how to navigate around sharp turns and over thinly-covered obstacles.

 The last descent of the day brought us right back to the yurt.  We stripped off sweaty layers and boots while our guides and teachers got the fire going and started on dinner.  It's a good thing the curry was pungent because eight steamy bodies makes things real funky really fast.

Home sweet home.

Puzzle time while waiting for dinner.

 Our last morning dawned quiet and snowy.  We had gotten a good four or five inches overnight, and as we lay in bed we could hear large slabs sliding off the roof as the wood stove started pumping out heat.  This was the day we discussed route selection, and our job was to plan the day's itinerary, taking into account the current conditions and all we'd learned over the weekend.  We chose to explore an area to the northwest of the lake, and set off following our trail from yesterday.  Once there we decided it was too thin to comfortably ride, but we still had some good discussions of terrain.

Drew, yurt owner and instructor, pointing out some terrain features.

From there we traversed across the bowl and I was introduced to split skiing.  A snowboard is great for riding down hills, but it doesn't do so well once the terrain flattens out.  For situations like this it's more efficient to keep the board in two pieces and ski across those flatter areas.  Fine and dandy if you're a skier, but there's a reason I snowboard instead.  It was something akin to watching a penguin on roller skates.  

Hiking across the lake - I'm the little blue gnome.

 The five inches at the yurt translated to eight inches in the basin, and we had a blast making fresh turns all the way back down to camp.  Then it was time to pack everything up and make our way out.  The first section had a good pitch to it, with more fun powder turns even with a fully-loaded pack.  After that, I got to practice my split skiing for two long, agonizing miles.  I was the last one to the trail head, wobbly and tired but still alive.  I celebrated my win by joining some folks at the Pony Bar, then meeting up with Carl at Norris Hot Springs to soak away my aches.  It was a fantastic weekend for both the body and the mind.  Now all we need is a little more snow...

Weeeee!