of returning and continuing

Yet again I’ve travelled to the end of the world and back, though in the summer when the road is open Cooke City doesn’t feel quite like the end of the world—just close enough to the edge to make a trans-Atlantic traveller rather weary.   My time at home in Minnesota and Montana passed far too quickly, as I should have expected it to do, but was nevertheless exceptionally fun and refreshing.  Hardly a day went by that I didn’t spend time with old or new friends in some form of outdoor recreational activity, or assisting in preparations for Brandon and Kerstin’s wedding.  Someone in Montana made the comment one day that I’d done nearly everything under the sun on this trip.  Well, perhaps not everything, but certainly the days were filled with a number of activities.  Needless to say, I did not accomplish the school work I had anticipated accomplishing.  Why I still deceive myself into foolishly thinking that I can get work done when away from St Andrews is beside me. 

The weather finally changed on the day that I left, but what a scene to leave!

Five weeks away from the office is a long time, to be sure; returning to St Andrews, I can sense a loss of momentum.  This is entirely normal, but it’s also to the simple fact that I so dearly love everyone that I’ve just said goodbye to (again), and I’d rather be there than here.  Scotland is good, but Minnesota/Montana, i.e. home, is better.  Before beginning this PhD programme, several former professors shared with me their experiences of loneliness while pursuing their doctorates and cautioned me to be prepared for a similar experience and challenged me to make adequate time for maintaining friend and family connections at home.  This break was necessary for just that reason (along with giving my eyes a rest from reading)!

Exactly two years ago today I arrived in Scotland for the first time, and, as of yesterday, I am now a third-year doctoral student; how remarkable is that?  I am now part of the group of students who have held desk space longer than any other current students in my office building.  Those here before me have either completed the programme, returned to the States to complete, or have been assigned alternate desk space as they’re in their fourth year.  I too will be reassigned to another desk one year from now.  Hopefully by that time the light at the end of the tunnel will be glowing rather brightly.  Hopefully.

Being home was wonderful for the change of pace and activities to distract me from the endless studies, but it was also incredibly beneficial for regaining a sense of purpose and support.    After a few months of the daily grind here, it is easy to feel alone in the pursuit, especially during the dark days of winter.  Despite what any photos might present, life in Scotland is no vacation.  Returning to St Andrews this time around, however, especially considering that I probably won’t be back in Montana until I leave Scotland for good, I am returning and beginning this third year with a renewed sense of purpose and community support.  Hearing family and friends declare ‘We’re so proud of you’, and ‘you’re always in our prayers’ were just the words this soul needed to hear.  I’m returning here reminded that, while it may be my body and mind at the desk and in the books day after day, hour after hour, there is one huge family and one mountain village entirely behind me in this pursuit, and, though it may feel like it on occasion, I am not alone.  This PhD is for me and a future career, but even more so, it is for all of my family and my dear, dear friends in Montana/Wyoming.  Thank you to all of you who continually show your love and support of me in this pursuit.  It’s that support that will bring me home—eventually for good.

And, just to throw this in, as I sit here eating my red lentil vegetable soup (day 1 of 5), ‘THANK YOU’ to all of you who either bought food for me or cooked for me while home.  I can still taste the cookies, steaks, pancakes, ribs, pizza, and everything in between!  

Finally, for your reading pleasure, a few words from Montana’s greatest song writer:  ‘If you’re ever in Montana take a message to my friends, that the glamour of the city is riding empty on the wind; it can steal away your joy and leave your heart stone blind, make a cold Montana winter seem like something warm and fine’.  Well said, Jeff; well said.

Quad Cycling the Beartooths

In preparation for this return trip to the States, I purchased travel insurance to cover me in the occurrence of any accidents, particularly on motorcycle or 4-wheeler.  As I communicated to the travel agent drawing up the insurance that I would be 4-wheeling, it took a great deal of effort to make clear just exactly what 4-wheeling is.  ‘No’, it doesn’t have doors; ‘no’, there are no seat belts; ‘yes’, sometimes there is a windscreen.  The travel agent finally turned to a co-worker and asked if he knew what it is called, but he only answered with a blank stare.  So eventually the phone call was made to the insurance higher-ups, who confirmed for the entire travel agent office that it is covered under the title of ‘quad cycling’.  They obviously don’t ‘quad cycle’ much in Scotland.

Yesterday (Wednesday), Kim and I and Mother Mary (now winter resident of Tweener, MT) went quad cycling in Cooke City’s backyard.  Nearly everywhere we went I had been on snowmobile on multiple occasions, but it looks a whole lot different when not covered by a 10-20 foot blanket of snow. 

In the previous post, I mentioned the numerous lakes that give the Beartooth Mountains part of their character.  The photo below is a good example of the beauty found in this part of the Rocky Mountains which isn’t found elsewhere.  I’m standing at the top of Sheep Mountain and the lake second from the right in the scene below is Round Lake.  If you follow this link to the post I made back in March 2010, you can see in the final picture my dad standing on a lake with a large mountain ridge behind him.  He is standing on Round Lake, at that time covered by 3+ feet of ice and the ridge behind him is Sheep Mountain, the mountain on which I am standing in the picture below.  Coincidentally, Kim’s winter trip that year also features in the 2010 post!

This is taken from Sheep Mountain also, albeit looking the other direction.  You can see our ‘Quad Bikes’ in the distance.

Daisy Pass, leading down to Abundance Flats.

Here’s looking back at Daisy Pass from Abundance Flats.  The willow colours are testifying to the fact that fall is in the air.

It’s hard to get a good picture looking into the sun, but the colours of autumn come through in this photo nevertheless. 

Kim and I on the quad cycles at the Lulu cabins, two of the many dilapidated buildings left over from the mining years in these hills. 

Kim’s now en route back to Fort Lewis in Washington and I’m enjoying my final two days here in this second home away from home.  Thanks, Kim, for coming to see me… again! 

Kayaking Island Lake

Part of the beauty of the Beartooth Mountains is the vast number of stunning lakes, each filled with water clear enough to make you think you’re in the Caribbean.  Most are accessible only via foot, but a few along the Beartooth Scenic Highway basically throw themselves at you as you drive past.  One of my favourites is Island Lake, the head of a chain of lakes extending north into the backcountry. 

On Tuesday, Kim and I loaded her kayak and a borrowed kayak into the vehicle and headed up the road to Island Lake.  The weather was (again) perfect for another outdoor adventure, and, as Kim is prone to do, she and I seized the day.

Of my entire trip here thus far, the photos taken from the kayak on Tuesday are my favourites.  I hope you enjoy them as well.

Kim demonstrating her skills.

Here’s a photo Kim snapped of me on her phone—a common scene.

Next time you’re looking for something to do on a nice day, grab your kayak (or borrow one) and head to Island Lake!

Lower Aero Lake

My friend Kim arrived on Sunday afternoon and I haven’t slept since the adventures have continued unceasingly.  People often tell me that I have packed a lot in to my relatively short life; but they don’t know Kim.  Kim puts everyone to shame when it comes to utilizing the hours of the day for the creation of wild and crazy memories and stories to tell the future grandchildren; and, let me tell you, she redefines ‘wild’ and ‘crazy’.  When she visited me in Cooke back in January of 2010, she was named ‘Kamikaze Kim’, and not without good reason.

Her time in Cooke City this week, as expected, has been another series of memories and stories.  Because the photos tell the stories, I’ll dedicate this and the next couple posts to our mountain-top adventures these last few days.

Our first big escapade was on Monday, when we hiked to Lower Aero Lake in the beautiful Beartooth Mountains—Cooke City’s backyard playground.     

En route we were reminded that the mountains may be our playground but they’re some one else’s home.  We never laid eyes on this grizzly, but after seeing the tracks, he seemed rather omnipresent—probably for good reason.

From the trailhead to the lake and back was approximately ten miles of trail through gorgeous mountainous scenery, winding its way through timber and then upward in to high alpine country.

This is Zimmer Creek just before it reaches flat lands again.  Kim is standing proud in the photo, if you can find her among the rocks!

We hiked along Lady of the Lake, a lower alpine lake, then along Zimmer Creek, before turning properly upward through what is colloquially known as ‘Cardiac Gulch’.  Here I am at the top of Cardiac Gulch, smiling only because it was as we were heading down.  I was certainly not smiling just after reaching the top of the gulch, which we climbed nearly straight up from the valley below. 

But just after Cardiac Gulch, and a couple false summits, finally Lower Aero Lake came in to view.  It was a beautiful sight; and not just because we were exhausted from the Gulch.

It is, by far, one of the more magnificent scenes I’ve seen in the lower Beartooths.

After catching our breath and enjoying some PB&J, we headed back down the Gulch, down Zimmer, past Lady of the Lake, and finally back to the vehicle.  Here’s another shot of Zimmer Creek on our way down.

It was another beautiful day here in Montana!

Cache Creek, YNP and Bald Ridge, WY

One can’t come to Yellowstone National Park and not go fly fishing.  One can go fly fishing and not catch anything, but that’s another thing entirely.  Not that I would know, personally. 

On Thursday of this week I hiked in to Cache Creek and practiced my never-acquired long-forgotten skills, and, to my surprise, I actually caught a few.  I felt accomplished.  The day was beautiful, the company was wonderful, and the fish were biting; what more can a girl ask for?

Speaking of company, here’s one of my teachers and guides.  He sure looks the part!

It was about a 2.5 mile hike in, which took a bit longer than usual as there was a bison traffic jam on the trail.  They made zero indication of having a lunch date to get to, so we lost a good twenty minutes of fishing time.  Such is life in YNP.

This Montana-Wyoming adventure continued on Friday when I joined the SCAT ladies (my former knitting club) of Crandall and Sunlight Basin on a drive/hike to Bald Ridge, which overlooks the entire canyon.  What a spectacular view it was!

Uta, a wee German wanderer.

Here’s myself and Bertie, one of my dearest friends out here.  The wind was blowing!

On Saturday I relaxed, or at least stayed in one place much of the day.  In fact, I spent the day writing my sermon I preached this morning at my former Chapel.  It was great to be back behind the pulpit at MRCP.  Thanks everyone for allowing me back! 

And now I sit here waiting for a friend, Kim, to arrive from Washington.  She’ll be here for the next 2-3 days and I can’t even imagine what kind of crazy adventures she’ll drag me on during those days.  Hopefully I survive to post pictures!

Day Three on the Bike

and my rear end is sore.   I don’t think I’m made for long-distance motorcycle travel.  But after three and a half days of traveling the area via two wheels rather than four, I’m convinced that motorcycle is the way to go. 

On day three of dad’s Montana-Wyoming tour, we rode in to the Park from Cooke, went to Tower-Canyon-Norris-Madison-Old Faithful-Lake Yellowstone-Fishing Bridge, then out the East entrance and on to Cody and back to Cooke via the Chief Joseph Highway.  It was another gorgeous day in Montana and Wyoming.  Like always, here are some photos to prove it.

A spring (the name of which I’ve now forgotten) in the Midway Geyser Basin.

This guy thinks he’s pretty cool.

Lake Yellowstone

The Cody Reservoir

Like most things out here, ‘isolated showers’ in the mountains really do mean ‘isolated’.

Isolated showers also make for isolated rainbows!

The Chief Joseph Highway, taken from Dead Indian Pass.  This is the road to Cody, WY that everyone in Cooke City travels to get groceries/supplies during the summer months.  You finally start up the mountain switchbacks after nearly one hour of travel time, with thirty minutes left to go (a whole lot shorter than the 3 hour drive to Bozeman in the winter)!

Dad started his cross-country trip back to Minnesota on Thursday morning and has arrived home safely.  Thanks for making the trip, dad!

Since he’s left I’ve fished and hiked and (naturally) have photos to prove it.  Soon, soon.

Bighorn Canyon National Recreation Area

I really love Montana and her mountains, but my appreciation for Wyoming is also steadily increasing.  Its desert dryness, rugged red rocks, canyons and gorges, and endless blue skies make it a photographers dream—or at least that’s what I thought on Tuesday when we cycled to the Bighorn National Recreation Area and boated Loch Bighorn (otherwise known as Bighorn Lake).  Bighorn Lake is a reservoir that extends 55 miles from Montana into Wyoming, snaking the route of the Bighorn Canyon.  It’s nothing short of jaw-dropping incredible.  It was well worth the three hour drive to get there.

Mark and I hogged the best seats in the boat (also the most dangerous with Jerry driving!).

Mary.  Gosh I love her.

The pictures speak for themselves.

In

cred

i

ble.

Incredible.

Many thanks to Dye’s Bait and Tackle of Tweener, Montana for the tour and the fabulous day!

Motorcycling the Beartooth

Here it is, just as promised… pictures of the Beartooth Highway via motorcycle. 

I’m too exhausted from three days of motorcycle fun to say much tonight, so I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves.  The Beartooth Highway is incredible, as always, but I’m really excited to show you photos from yesterday’s adventure.  Wow.  You’ll have to wait a day for that though.

For now, here’s America’s most scenic highway.  If you’ve never been here, you are missing out. 

The Bear’s Tooth!

My dear dad.

Me and my daddy.

Minnesota and Montana

Dearest friends.  My apologies for leaving you all suspended on your vicarious-travel-string.  The last three weeks have been packed full of every activity under the Mississippi bluff land and Montana mountain sun.  My time at home was spectacular, filled with family and friends, both old and new.  In fact, it was one of the best times at home in a long time. 

One of the picturesque highlights of my time at home were the foggy Minnesota mornings along the river valley of County Road 71.  This is the view from home deck—yet a favourite sight among all my world-wide travels.

Brandon and Kerstin’s wedding day, the ultimate reason for my travels home, was a great day, albeit a bit hot and sticky.  Here is myself, Kerstin, and my new niece, Ava.  I finally got the sister I always wanted.  Well done, Brandon.

Like all good things, it came to an end last Monday when I continued my trans-Atlantic journey to Cooke City, Montana, my beloved mountain village of a second home, where I’ll be for the next wee while.  It’s been wonderful to be back, both to be physically in the town/region and with my second family.  I’m so blessed.

Here’s the view of one of the three ‘streets’.  It doesn’t get much better than this, folks.

And one for the artists in the group…

My dad arrived yesterday on his motorcycle from Minnesota, looking for a fresh mountain adventure.  It’s now 6:30am Mountain Time and we’re gearing up to ride motorcycle over what has been deemed by many as the most scenic highway in all of the Continental United States—the Beartooth Highway.  I promise to post pictures of it.  I guarantee you’ll want to check back.

So now you’re updated, sort of.  (Not that most of you needed to be, since the majority of my faithful readers are in either Minnesota or within half a mile of me right now!)  Nevertheless, I promise I’ll do better from now on, or at least I’ll try!