It's that time of year again: leaves are turning, nights are getting cooler, and I am once again couch-surfing from friends to family and back again in gainful unemployment. Shoulder season is both beautiful and awkward. It's an incredible opportunity to visit people I've neglected for far too long, explore new places without thought to time constraints, and catch up on the world in general. Yet after a couple months of frenetic activity followed by weeks of unrestrained freedom I seem to reach the same conclusion every time: I haven't the foggiest idea what to do with myself.
The summer could be summed up by that much beloved South Asian phrase "same same but different". I didn't even bother keeping track of how many times I went from Moccasin Creek to West Glacier but I can describe every inch, every boulder, every eddy of the Middle Fork of the Flathead River in such excruciating detail that it could be considered a form of torture. Such familiarity is tempered by the fact that every trip was somehow different - the social dynamic of the people on board, Montana's fickle weather, the water level that shapes the Middle Fork's personality. I've come away from my first season of river guiding with shoulders of steel, a greater appreciation for moving water, and a killer Chaco tan.
I did get the chance to lead a six day backpacking trip in September that brought together all sorts of extremes. Our group of seven guests represented a broad spectrum of experience, age, and geographic distribution, while the environment responded with everything from sideways snow to sweltering sun, thick forests to bare rocky passes. Somehow it all balanced out to a beautiful equilibrium that left us all with huge grins on our faces. To get an idea of it all you can check out one gentleman's pictures here. Thanks, Jamsheed, for putting those together! There are more out there and I'll post them as I'm able.
Six days spent schlepping a sixty pound pack turned out to be excellent training for running a half-marathon. In order to avoid the typical paddler's physique (gorilla shoulders/chicken legs) I started plodding in the spring, but quickly realized that unless I had a tangible goal in mind there was no way my lazy butt would continue that regiment. So I signed up for the Two Bear half-marathon in Whitefish, put some money down, and started training. A month into it I was ready to run the stupid thing, already, and be done with all this silliness. Who runs 13.1 miles, anyway? 146 people, that's who, and another hundred ran the full marathon, including a gentleman who was 83. September 13 was a beautiful sunny day and I managed to finish in under two hours with a time of 1:57, far exceeding my goal of simply finishing. I was 6th out of 21 in my age range (20-29), and 42nd overall. As Nathan likes to put it, I smoked 104 people. I guess hiking up all those mountain passes was good for something.
Currently I'm doing a west coast tour of the greater Seattle area, including the Olympic Penninsula, soon to be followed by a week down in Portland with my newly empty-nested folks. I've been stocking up on ethnic cuisine, coffee, and city culture before I head back to Montana in October. Given my previous record, the next update probably won't come until the spring, although I may make an exception to upload some pictures. Enjoy!
