It's better than being eaten by a Grizzly Bear

Kendra and I woke up the first official day of Spring Break feeling awful.  Our bodies ached, we could hardly get out of bed, and our throats hurt like mad: we had the makings of a severe head cold on our hands.  I drove feverishly to my home, trying to keep my eyes on the road, but feeling them pulled to the immense Montana landscape; the Mission Mountains peaking through in my rearview mirror; the Flathead River paralleling highway 200, meeting the Clark Fork soon enough.   

We were ill and were of no help or fun to my grandparents; they were wonderful though and set us up in the guest bedroom with heaps of handmade quilts and a warm wood stove nearby.  We rested.  My good friends, Ryne and Natalie, drove from Moscow to meet us at Quinn's Hot Springs.  The water smelled of sulfer, it smelled real, in the sense that there's really nothing you can do about it, it's straight from underground.  It was soothing- after an hour in the water I could feel the illness leaving my body.    

Quinn's Hotsprings..Get there.

My friends and I caravanned back to the ranch where we enjoyed a wonderful meal made by my grandma.  It was so nice to share my special place, my home, with my friends. It is a recent occurrence, introducing my friends to my family and the ranch, but one that means so much to me. 

Sneaking a photo while grampa drove the Quad.

The farm

We spent the night in my dad's new home, which is still under construction, sitting on the unfinished floor in the living room, drinking microbrews from Rogue, Guiness, and Kettlehouse, talking about our favorite literature and fire crew stories (Ryne!).

Kendra at Thompson River

The friends left the following morning, and Kendra and I were feeling much better and headed out to explore the local forest service roads along the Thompson River.

I wanted to hit the road that splits from the Thompson River to the West Fork of the Thompson, which leads to one of my favorite trailheads.  The snow hit at exactly that place though, and we were unable to venture any further..bummer.





I turned the truck around and just drove.  Winter around the Inland Northwest and Rockies feels so long; by February you are ready to snap...just hope you don't go through a breakup, have an injury, or wreck your car, because this time period is the tipping point. 

The bridge at the West Fork of the Thompson River.

The cutoff road

The lil' spitfire.


But when I am on these backroads, slowly driving along the river with the Pines dusted in just the most proper way with a bright white snow, I realize how fickle and ephemeral it really all is.  Why just yesterday in Moscow, Idaho, we had a warm day, then today we got 4 inches of snow in 6 hours...12 hours later it is gone, melted and running down 6th street winding its way into Paradise Creek.

So I will hang in there, despite the shitty weather, illness, breakups, too much schoolwork, being broke, general apathy, too few horses in my life... come what may. 


After all, it's better than being eaten by a Grizzly Bear.

I'm thinking Night of the Grizzlies right about now.