In any journey, you gotta start talkin' about dualities and opposites...

Fingers wander across my neck and bite at nails. My ankles trace circles. My eye is twitching. Plus, the cashier Josh has already commented on my pathetic amount of time in the Co-op Café. There are magnets in the clouds that pulls my breath. It is time to go. 

I am a house, split. Two bodies. One is wispy. It moves so freely when given the room but finds it so hard to push against walls. It tires. It sleeps. The other taunts it, for it can break whatever it wants and moves with heavy feet. Because this body moves fast and this body rebels and this body hardens in defense when I blame it or shame it.

But this hardened piece is a part of me, and it gets tired of fighting. And when it does, my other body knows its time, it is ready to feel its world again. 

When I go to the woods, I dance with this part of me that feels in light and speaks with soft eyes. My hardened body is tired. 

But now a confession: I have left feeling a sense of home. But I have never been able to say I am going home. Each time, something catapults like stomach lifting in the exhilaration of an amusement park ride. Like a house rule so old and rusted it is never remarked upon or re-evaluated, this quiet preparatory hum tells me to leave a piece at the door. Like taking off your shoes. 

It is easy to glorify. We are people of the light. But I do not want to glorify this gathering of souls.  It shouldn’t have to be this exception. It shouldn’t have to encourage this splitting, this hiding from the world out here. Because my hardened self wants to be loved and wants to be love. And then maybe you will see it has a gift. I want this gathering to be a healing, a mending. The hardness and softness, sewn together, all of my colors bleeding into one another like a rainbow… 

What matters more

Than this body

Bursting like blue

Brimming like

Mountain boulder barrier

Breath is so hard to find

Once you know it is there

When eyes close

When world enters underneath

Into 

Within

When what matters more

Is what is

Light and Dark

See you all in a couple weeks!
Lovin' you all 

Bozervations

There are a lot of Musicians and writers here, and they like to act big.

Lisa and I attended a Solstice party last night and 50% of the conversations I had involved name-dropping about local artists. There is a man in the co-op playing harp. I wish he would just keep playing because every time he talks, its some underhanded statement about his talent or some conceded remark to a couple about how ignorant they are of the art or the area.

It seems really easy to find a space to sell your own work here.

But I suppose that gusto produces good local business. Every store downtown is filled to the brim with local products. Lots of note cards, some photographic ones of which I feel do not do justice to the landscape. There is a market held at a local farm on Mondays combined with a carnival that fundraises for a youth entrepreneurship program.

There is money.

On our way back from the party, Lisa drove me through a new condo and apartment complex community. The design was more like that of a Victorian mansion with a Scotland yard sort of clock tower at the end of the “village” entrance. Lisa heard that apartments run well over $1,000 per month. Gold turns to grunge, literally right across the railroad tracks. As we continued on home, we winded through a few small neighborhood streets until we turned and this particular one sprawled double the width of any other. Halfway down, Lisa pointed to a building the size of a small city block. “That’s the Rabbi’s house.”

There are playgrounds.

Every corner. Big twisty, turny, curvy, creative playgrounds.

There is a really odd construction project going on in the neighborhood I am in.

It is a hole in the ground. Probably plumbing. Yet it is at a three way intersection and thus requires a traffic conductor. She is rather inept at this whole conducting thing. I can never tell whether I am getting the “slow” or “stop” signal because she goes into these sort of trances where she must forget that she is there to hold a sign. It waivers at odd angles, not really directing anything. I don’t blame her. It must be a boring job. But then I wish she wouldn’t make blunt motions at me like I am supposed to know my right of way.

I have seen about 2 people who were not Caucasian.

They were both children. To my recollection I have not seen adults.

But there are probably 2 dogs here for every person.

Dogs could seriously govern this place. Most are independent enough to stroll about everywhere without a leash.

They like to run.

Yes, the dogs. But the people also. There is a triathalon today, a marathon thing next weekend, a month-long weekly fundraiser run in the evenings….

The ratio of Starbucks per city block in Toronto is the ratio of local cafes to city block in Bozeman

Cateye café, the leaf and bean, café nova, cowboy Joe’s, Sola café….not to mention these really odd modern industrial looking café-bakery things that line the outlying blocks of mainstreet, serving local brews and artisan breads.

There are never four-way stops.

This is really annoying. And really important to remember. 

This land is your museum

I kind of quit like an afterthought. I had stopped the whole coffee thing many times before and the day of headache I experienced never really needed much planning. So I was not expecting to wake up on day two unable to move from nausea.

Coupled with a bad weather forecast, my journey paused in Bozeman a couple extra days.

One full day of zombie-ing around and one amazing massage gift later, my haze cleared and I decided to partake in one of Bozeman’s main attractions.

"Big Al" 

This is happening now!

Maybe I was a bit biased, having just toured through some of the most dramatic landscapes in Montanta, but I was absolutely enamored with the Museum of the Rockies. I never knew that Montana was such fertile ground for Dino digging but because of the topography of its landscape, erosion has exposed just the right layers to create an interactive fossil playground. There have been fossils found in 48 of the 56 counties in the state! Much of the Dinosaur and geology exhibits were constructed from research done by Montana State University students and there was also an active lab that you could look into to see the fossil castings they are currently piecing together. I’ve been to the natural history museum before but I don’t think I was ever as struck by the massive bones as I was here. They had one rib bone that was believed to belong to an 80-foot, 24-ton creature! I felt like such a little kid, going back through the time periods to read every panel as a review of what we had learned in Glacier. The admission was good for two days, so I went back the next day also.

Some nifty things I learned and saw:

This is our Precambrian earth 4.5 Billion years ago!

Remember that mediocre looking rock in glacier? This is what it would have looked like when it was alive! 

This is a Microbrial Mat on a live Stromatolite. The stromatolites started dying off when we started seeing more complex life forms that learned to use oxygen (the oxygen that had been put into the atmosphere was previously produced as waste through the photosynthesizing Microbes) and it is believed that this is because those life forms ate all the microbial mats. So now these single celled organisms only live in extreme areas like Yellowstone’s hotsprings.

This dude is a Pikaia and we all evolved from him. He is the first vertebrate with a backbone characteristic. 

This giant vertebrate belonged to a Sauropod. Paleontologists like studying them because they were so common and lived so long despite a ridiculous proportion issue. If their body were our size, their heads would have been like little golf balls on long straw necks. They were however, very light for their size because in between the vertabre were air sacs that functioned sort of like birds, allowing them to breathe more effectively and grow larger. The way the muscles and tendons were attached also suggests that those big long tails were carried parallel to the ground, as opposed to dragged.

I ran out of time to check this part out but the museum also maintains this 1800 home, complete with an all-heirloom garden. Every crop dates back to the 1850s or earlier!

 I've never been very good at processing large sums of information about scientific processes so it was especially helpful to go through time here, looking at all of the shifting plates and flooding/erosion periods after having been in those areas. The affinity for them helps the information stick.


They also had a pretty snazzy NASA exhibit up and I spent almost two hours touching moon rocks and clicking interactive buttons to learn about our different satellites and waving my hands in front of infared light readers. And of course, I made sure to get a seat in their Planetarium (supposedly one of the most technologically advanced in the country.)

The first conceptual drawing of a lunar orbit - doesn't it all look so simple? 

The wheel of the Apollo 11 Land Rover is made out of a layering of spring-like material,
giving it buoyancy and cushion for the rough terrain. 

Rocks from the moon are compiled of Basalt, Anorthosites and Breccias.
These are all basic sediments of earth and are older than 99% of our rocks
so the moon is a key component to understanding early earth geology.

These Fuel cells are what allow rockets to keep going after
the initial launch. Hydrogen enters the negatively charged anode, splitting its atoms into protons and electrons. The electrons are passed through circuitry to create energy while the protons are blocked. Oxygen enters the positively charged cathod and as Hydrogen atoms re-combine, the fuel cell releases pure water as waste. These highly efficient systems are now being looked into for future self-driving cars. The exhibit emphasized a ton of ways in which NASA's innovations have effected our daily lives. That was neat. They're responsible for progress in solar energy, CAT/MRI Machines, insulation barriers in cars and memory foam, among other things...

I notice that when grown ups go into Museums, they take a highly abbreviated approach. If kids are present and asking a lot of questions they do their best to answer them, with various levels of engagement and accuracy. But for most of the time, the kids are off getting fascinated on their own accord or some adults come in untethered to any oversight responsibility. And yet, the way they engage with the exhibit is brief, making commentary as to the impressive size or look of a design, if anything. Rarely do they stop to read a full panel. And if they do it is usually half-heartedly while carrying on a conversation with a peer. I just don't understand the use in going to a museum if you aren't going to try and understand what you are looking at. Maybe it is an age thing. Maybe they are so solidly into their roles in life that a simple glimpse at other pers
pectives is enough. Maybe since I don't quite know where  my passions will land me yet, I cling to everything as a possible spark for some unrealized path.

But maybe that is important. To keep that unlimited notion of possibility. To feel like a kid every once in a while.

The morning before my headache set in, I also ventured to reach the big ‘M’ on the side of the Bridger Range overlooking the city. 5,800 very steep feet later, the M was an unimpressive pile of white rock. But the view was amazing. 

Bozing around

I do think Bozing could be a verb.

At least for me. It has this ring of not quite lazing but not quite up to par. Its like a contemplative preparatory laze...there is a very particular state that I enter when I make the kinds of changes that are glitzy and shiny and look-at-me! sort of changes. The kinds that you can't hide in the sleepy trance of a routine or constant distractions you have to contend with when traveling with someone. And this coping mechanism is, as of now, will officially be recognized here as Bozing: A modality by which one can move towards acclimating to what is suddenly new and changed when the individual would much rather sleep for a day. Or maybe a week.

It is sort of like this pseudo-shutting down. It is this soft walking into and through the world but really only being with yourself. It also involves sitting in a lot of place that bring about familiarity. i.e for me, cafes and co-ops.

In case you have not guessed, I am in Bozeman, Montana. After parting ways with mother in Missoula, I decided that it would be best to decompress before venturing onward. Aforementioned family friend Lisa was kind enough to let me post up at her apartment and because she would be out of town working the next few days, I would have the place to myself to Boze.

Another reason for my new title: Bozeman has been one of the best Bozing grounds I've ever come across. Sure, I have been spending a lot of time catching up on the blog which means a lot of time indoors. But I also have to put forth hardly any effort to find some nice outdoor space to breath and think and be, all equally important qualities of the bozing process. Right outside of the apartment for instance, is an access point to a trail that weaves secretly through wooded neighborhood streets, along streams, and can even be followed from one end of the city to the other, up into mountain trails. From the top of "Peet's Hill" there, you can see mountains in every direction that illuminate in a halo when the sun sets and rises. I visited the hilltop my first evening in town and any flustered stirring in the heart just calmed.



Yesterday, I ventured off to hike to the big 'M' 5,800 feet up one of the mountain sides. After foolishly assuming I'd marked the right trail, I hiked 2 miles on a rather flat field of wildflowers, expecting it to shoot up any time but getting more skeptical as I lost sight of the mountain. The right trail was just a "block"s worth away so I went for it. The description I'd read was immediately more recognizable here: DIRECT STEEP ASENT. As I huffed along, a few spry older hikers passed me. I had noticed a number of odd little paths teetering off towards the middle of the mountain and asked if they knew if I'd passed the M. Sure enough, I had gone about 200 feet too high. Back at its base, I was able to rest on a couple benches where a local woman and her kids joined me and we got to talking about alternative schooling and how much she adored growing up in Bozeman. We looked out over the city, small enough to see a good spread of from our vantage point, and I felt like I was sharing that same homey admiration with her.

And its true, I really am playing house with this neighborhood. It is ridiculously easy to feel at home here. In addition to the endless range of mountains, there are an abundance of bunnies commuting through the lawns as commonplace as squirrels. Tribes of Black-billed Magpies argue noisily over who has the better perch (or something) but I have yet to be bothered by their obnoxious chatter cause they are so damn pretty looking for being a pest bird. Stretches of country road leading out of town take me past local breweries, local galleries, local artisan bakers…so much local! On a Tuesday afternoon, the little trail path bustles as it becomes a main transit line for locals heading out for an evening farmers market outside of a playground. There, not only is there a bountiful selection of Farm Vendors with quirky names like “crazy view” and “Three Fiddle” but there are food vendors galore, live music, and attractions like face painting and a big bungee jump. The market also seems to be overwhelmingly accommodating of young entrepenuers. Many of the vendors were teens or even college students who wanted to take a stab at marketing their craft. 

Also, the name is just so damn fun to say: Bozeman. It is so easy to just be here.

And yet, it does make me blaringly aware of my spoiled, privileged white girl status.

But it’s a tree on a mountain. And each tree gives life. There is a place in me for this utopian exploration. This comfort that allows me to remember how to just enjoy. I am surrounded by hiking trails where I am constantly seeing my world shift as I climb higher into rocks, looking down to something that once looked so large, becoming a part of all the things around me that I could not appreciate on something so large. And then the coming down, the looking back up to see the trek I’ve made.

The duality of big and small are constantly revealing themselves out here.

Spaces (and places) Unknown: Our last day in Glacier together

The next day was forecast sunny and we were not about to miss this hike.

Avalanche Lake was acclaimed as one of the best hiking trails for an easier hike and its Pseudo Rainforest make-up was unique to the area. We had decided to experience with a guide at 9am.

Our guide’s name was Teagan. Teagan was a Geologist studying climate change. She loved rocks and wanted everyone and their mother to love them to. Well, my mother and I loved them. And her. She was awesome.

There is an exceptionally consistent correlation in Park Ranger to Awesome ratio.

“Everyone loves detective shows cause the detectives are always sexy. So I decided to be a Geologist! We’re detectives!” Before we got into the depths of the trail, she had us doing our own investigations to prompt her introduction to the trees around us “What do you think this tree is?” she pointed to a large reddish trunk. “Cedar!”

“And why do you think it is a cedar!”

“We’re on trail of the Cedars!” said the same trailgoer.

Teagan begged us to upgrade our detective skills. Segmented leaves, aromatic, striated bark were all good cues.

And then we walked to something I would have passed right by. A rock. One I could have considered a lawn ornament.

Stro-mat-oh-lite!

“I love this rock!” Teagan said. “I love this rock because its telling us a lot. You see, Geology is all about looking at the present to discover the past.” This rock was an eroding Stromatolite (a layered form) and by knowing that, scientists knew that this area used to have similar conditions to the Bahamas. Why? Because they have fully formed Stramatolites there. “This is some of the first life on earth! It photosynthesizes! It breaths! It prepared us for the life boom!”

The entire hike exposed us to explanations behind features that we never would have paid attention to.

This Tree was hit by lightning back in…2000? Anyhow, it wasn’t until two weeks later that a huge fire broke out from finally igniting through the shallow root system. While National Parks work to preserve the natural process of things, this fire was controlled to some extent because it is the last forest of its kind in the area and it was easily controllable.

ripple rocks tell her how water flowed. Other rocks bore striations that could tell her how the ice moved and whether it was likely the rock had always been there or had been dropped as an erratic or if it was old or new depending on if it were on or beneath a tree.

Teagan had us guess what might have cause this massive topple. In addition to the trees in this valley, we were standing among a large patch that had snapped and fallen across the path towards the upward hill. It turns out, Avalanche Basin is named such for a reason. Since it was the middle of winter, no one witnessed the event but it is believed that the avalanche only hit trees directly in the valley and the ones we were standing among snapped from the sheer volume of wind it produced.

                                             

                                                       The mountainside where the Avalanche began

The Trail used to weave through this area and after years of having to make frequent shut downs due to flooding, they finally shifted the trail over.

                   

 Avalanche Trail is also a “Bear Frequenting area” and we did see some fresh scat so Teagan made yelping noises and “HEY-O”s all the way up.

Listening intently

At the end, she taught us a little song to keep track of the key pointers, sung to “Row Row Row your Boat”:

*Silt Tilt Slide and Glide, that’s how glaciers form

Rocks Bacteria Mountains and Glaciers

Basins Certs and Horns

*sediment builds up from moving tides, rocks tilt the landscape 150 million years ago, Pressure creates tension and snaps the rock 70 million years ago and finally 2 million years ago, Glaciers glide through valleys in a U shape, forming single, double and triple Basins, Certs or Materhorns

And then we got to see what we had been singing about. Entering the basin with a new understanding of how it came to be, I felt like I was seeing the lost city of Atlanta or something. Even though geology happens everywhere. I guess Teagan did her job.

When we got to the lake, we couldn’t stay long because we had an engagement…that morning as we drove in, our eyes caught sight of the Helicopter tour sign. I called to find out a bit more and when mother learned that she would get her Glacier fix in, she decided it would be worth it regardless of price. It was just too strange to be in Glacier without seeing a glacier, especially with all this talk about their rapid disappearance.

Our Copter

It was so worth it.

Our Pilot

Our excited mother

We soared up to 9,000 feet in the air, getting as high as some of the taller mountains. I was immediately in a dumbfounded childlike wonderment that I basked in for the entirety of the trip. It wasn’t much of a history tour but our pilot took us right up into the basins of the glaciers and over mountain ridges that only the most dedicated hikers ever saw. We passed through Avalanche basin and I could see the tiny specks of where we’d been that morning. The ride was smooth and our pilot kept reassuring us that we were rising or falling and because of the massive scales we were surrounded by, it just didn’t seem like much. At one point, we got so close that it looked like we could hit if we weren’t careful but in actuality we were still miles off.

Some general sights:

This is Lone Man mountain. One Lone Man (I didn't ask
if women get the job also...) sits up here year round since
this area is so prone to fires. 

Exhibit A: Lincoln Creek fire of 2003 

Isn't this water amazing? The color is caused by old
glacial sediments that did crazy stuff when they froze 

Crossing the Continental Divide which goes through almost the mid section of the park

Recognize this from earlier? 

How about now? Avalanche Basin!

Gunshot Lake

Hidden Falls. He kept clarifying distances
to put things in perspective. This "tiny"
looking thing drops 2,000 feet

Hidden Lake. Still appropriately hidden under ice!

Sperry Chalet. This historic Chalet is way way way up in the mountains
and can only be reached by hiking. It was not yet open when we were there
because every year, it takes some amount of winter damage and needs
repair. I just barely spotted what he was pointing at before it was out of sight.

St.Mary's Lake

Twin Lakes

Lakes Wilson (top) and Lincoln connected by Beaver Falls

Now...dundundun...GLACIERS!

There are three things that define a glacier.

1: it moves
2: there is compacted ice. A lot of snow is a lot of snow. NOT a glacier
3: it is at least 25 Acres

Jackson Glacier

Sperry Glacier

Blackfoot Glacier

Harrison Glacier

And what he considered the Grand Finale, the most picturesque moment: 

Lake McDonald. I donno. I don't think you can have a contest here. It was all amazing.

That evening, we drove into the nearby town of Whitefish where we discovered a local Restaurant called “CraggyRange” that served up some tasty local beer and amazing sweet potato fries under bright yellow umbrellas in a cozy outdoor veranda. Sitting there with the umbrellas making everything in that bright clear day so much brighter, everything felt perfect. There hadn’t been tension or effort. The day felt like everything could go our way. Like the world was gifting this last day to us. For me, it curbed any lingering aggravation and brought in the beginnings of that nervous longing and the recognition of parting ways.

               

I want to be

Big Mountain

Perching my breath

on wooden pinnacles

Compacting bodies

 into one another

grinding at each other

sinking

rising

holding and letting go

with perfect wisdom

         

Of course, what would a tourist trip be without matching shirts.