Destiny? Fate? Random?

I ate a HUGE prime rib sandwich and a pile of steak fries at a nice restaurant in McCall, Idaho the day I got out of the Seven Devils. As an appetizer I ate a half loaf of bread and salad. I could barely move afterward. I waddled out of the restaurant and into my car where I reclined feeling ready to regurgitate my meal at any moment. I wasn't yet ready to drive, but I pulled out regardless and headed south - my aim was to get somewhere close to Stanley, Idaho - but it was already 7:30 and Stanley was about four hours away. I was driving east toward Stanley about seven miles outside of Cascade (where my last blog was written) when the urge to turn around and go back overwhelmed me.

I'm back tracking from my last post because of that desire to turn around. Maybe it was the fact that I was exhausted and ready to puke that compelled me to turn around, maybe it was the fact that it was late and

I had no idea where the nearest campsite would be, maybe I was just too damn lazy to set up my tent and air mattress that night, but maybe it was something different.

I ended up spending three nights and four days in Cascade. The morning of my second day I learned that my good friend and mentor teacher back in Monroe owned property in Cascade. Crazy I somehow ended up here because the town only has 1000 year long residents. The Friday I last wrote on this Blog I was sitting in the library chatting with Tiffany (a girl with family in Cascade) when I learned of a fantastic opportunity. The American Legion in town was hosting a "Casino Night" and volunteers were needed to help deal cards and such. It took me all but two seconds to decide, "Im in!" It was an absolute blast. Friday night was the training session where veterans in their 60's - 80's decided the best way to deal Texas Hold 'Em and Black Jack - most not really knowing for sure the finer rules of the games required to deal. I stood back with Tiffany and her friend Josh making side ways glances and laughing about the absurdity of the

situation. I'm familiar with the games and offered up help as best I could despite trying to simply observe as an outsider. No one else really knew how to run the Roulette table - so I took the role and come Saturday night I spent the entire four hours spinning the ball and taking and rewarding chips. Another young lady from Las Vegas stayed at my table most of the night and we cracked jokes about the people present and the ridiculous prizes that could be won in the silent auction. Some of the best prizes were a clay bear playing a french horn, a red hat with the word "Native" on the brim and a bear stitched on the front, a full Nativity scene, and a ten year old stereo system. There where about 50 prizes in all. Most as awesome as the four previously mentioned. After "Casino Night" for the first time on the whole trip I enjoyed a saturday night out with friends on the town. Being that it was Labor Day weekend and a saturday night, Cascade was hopping. The people in Cascade where wonderful. I thought long about what compelled me to turn around as I left Cascade on Monday morning driving the same route I had been on Thursday. Whatever told me to turn around - I feel blessed I did.

I had made it only about five miles from Stanley when again the urge hit me to turn back and take one of the many campsites I had passed en route. I could have gone into town, checked it out, and taken any number of the many primitive campsites located on the outskirts of town. Again, this desire to turn back proved another monumental decision. At this tiny campsite off Rt. 21 I met Nora. As I stood staring at the self pay board she came out of her tent and explained to me she had already paid for all the sites and I was welcomed to stay for free. "Im in!" I set up and got in my tent. An hour or so later she was calling my name and offering me some of her chicken dinner and a drink. We chatted it up for an hour or so over dinner. She was an incredible woman who has traveled and worked all over the country. She currently lives in Jackson Hole and works closely with Grand Teton National Park - my favorite national park! I hope she doesn't mind me saying but it's important to note to understand her character and the type of woman she is - but she's survived both a double mastectomy and oophorectomy to thwart off cancer in both breasts and ovaries. When she heard the news of her cancer she simply took it in stride. "There's nothing I could do about, " she said smiling and she's now cancer free and recovered from both surgeries in record time. There's no doubt her positive attitude aided in her recovery. The brain is powerful medicine.

That night the temperature dipped into the low twenties (unknowingly to me, Stanley, Idaho has the lowest average temperature in the country over 300 days of the year) and me and my 45 degree summer bag were freezing! I stayed huddled in my bag until nine in the morning hoping the sun would filter through the trees and warm me. I probably would have stayed straight through the afternoon but Nora came calling. "Matt....can I tempt you with eggs, potatoes, and coffee???" "UHHHHH.....yes you most certainly can!" She barely even knew me but was so generous. I offered to give her something for all she had given me and her only request was to "Pay it Forward". She hoped for me to do something equally as generous for someone else. I'll do my best to heed her request. We talked long again. Nora offered up websites to check out in order to find cool jobs in and out of the country and shared more stories. I found out she knew Bill Bryson personally (one of my favorite authors). "A Walk in the Woods" is my favorite of book Bryson's where he tried to hike the Appalachian trail in full with his friend. The friend Bryson took with him on the trail was Nora's ex-husband. How random is that? Nora was incredible. Again...I cannot help but think what told me to turn back and chose the campsite I did. Fate? Destiny? Or just plain random luck? I don't know yet, but I've been so lucky over the past week to have made the right decisions and to have met incredible people and acquire new friendships.

I'm now in Stanley. A town so small and out there I could blink and be back 50 years and not know the difference. It's unbelievable here. Mountains (Sawtooths) so crisp and sharp and so close. Hot springs all around. The simple, slow, quiet pace of the people around me is addicting and contagious. Idaho has been incredible and still so much more to see!

Idaho is my favorite

So much happens when your on the road. A day is equivalent to a week. It's only been a week since I last wrote on here and yet it feels like I've experienced a month. The funny thing is I look back and feel like it's all going by so fast. Today is September 3rd, 2010. Its 11:18 am MST. I've been on the road for 47 days 2 hours and 38 minutes. Is that a long time? Not really. It depends. I would have started teaching on Monday. I have weird thoughts that I am teaching science in Monroe right now in room 305. That I'm teaching there and I'm also sitting here in Cascade, Idaho. There are two of me. Both doing what their supposed to be doing. Which Matt is the right Matt? Well. Easy answer. The one sitting in Cascade. I was hiking switch backs in the Seven Devils Mountains only a couple hours from here when these thoughts where entering my head. I was hiking the opposite direction from my intended destination on a long switch back. This is what I'm doing on my trip. Sometimes you need to go in the wrong direction to be heading the right way. This trip is everything I knew it would be. It's everyday new. It's everyday discovery. It slows down time and makes my days weeks and my weeks months. It's exploration. It's success and failure. It's laughing and wooo hooooing and then screaming and cursing. It's focusing on the only things that matter to me right now. It's focusing on what's around me. It's trying to learn. It's pure travel for the sake of travel. There is no destination. There can't be a destination. It's about not having a damn clue what the hell I'm doing or where the hell I'm heading and knowing that's the point. It's about the desperate desire to know what I don't know I don't know. And it's fucking amazing.

I spent some days in Glacier National Park in northern Montana. It is as good as a park gets – other than the fact that the rest of the natural loving world feel the same way – the place was mobbed. It was unfortunate my visit happened to fall on the final weekend of August. It was still beautiful. I heard elk bugle and witnessed doe and fawn only a meter away from my out stretched hand – nibbling blades of grass I had recently peed on for the salt content. I drove hours over some of the most incredible roads. I went from Glacier straight to the tip of Idaho's pan handle and began to ride down its spine. Spent a Saturday night out on the town in St. Maries (population 2,652), Idaho. Woke up with the arduous task of blinking my eyes and continued my southward journey. Outside Riggins, Idaho (population 410) lays the mountainous part of the Hell's Canyon Recreation center. Hell's Canyon is the deepest river gorge in North America. Deeper in fact than the Grand Canyon. The canyon drops nearly 8000' at its deepest point. I'll be hiking actually in the canyon when I leave Idaho and come in on the Oregon Side of the Snake River. It was Monday, August 30th. As a rounded an 8000' foot crest in the hills it began to snow.....hard. It would have been my first day teaching and I was standing in the middle of the Idaho wilderness in a snow storm. This was not dangerous snow. It was still August and it melted shortly after hitting the ground, but it was still Snow in August. Unreal. The next evening it started raining at 8:00 pm and didn't stop until 5:00 pm the next day. The temperature stayed constant. 42o F. I had planned for cold and was completely comfortable in my down jacket, long underwear, fleece hat, and snuggled in a down sleeping bag. It was a welcomed delay. On my last day I reached the summit of 9400' She Devil Mountain then bushwhacked (hiking off the trail) for several miles over downed trees and dense thicket. After the tenth slip and near major accident I began to laugh – the laugh turned quickly into an echoing scream. If you ever just want to be completely miserable hike into a recovering burned forest choked with downed trees strewn like Pick of Stix and thriving with small brush. Start down a slope of 30 degrees and see how long it takes you to scream...or cry. I was headed toward the trail but was unsure of when I would reach it. I couldn't miss it. The trail led perpendicular from my current direction. When I stumbled onto it unexpectedly I let out another scream, but this one was from joy. I've been thriving off these roller coaster emotions. The downs only make the ups so much better. I miss my family and friends. I do miss teaching and my friends at Jockey Hollow, but if I had stayed teaching this year I might have been heading in the “right direction” but I would have been going the wrong way. The correct choice was made. I'm where I'm supposed to be.

FYI

1. My car never had a name. It needed one. I named it “Last Chance”.

2. Horses don't squat or lift a leg to pee – they simple spread their back legs an extra foot apart and let rip a torrential fire hose of a spray.

Montana

I left Kevin in Bozeman, on Monday the 23rd and headed north toward the Bob Marshall Wilderness. I took all small highways and was enjoying the ride. I'm nearing 6,000 miles of road travel and most of it has been off the major interstates. The driving is as good as being in the wilderness and the western side of Montana is as good a place as it gets.

I found a campsite edging Holland Lake in the Flat Head National Forrest. I watched the sun drape its final rays on the western facing mountains on the opposite side of the lake and then having just witnessed the last of the sun for the day the moon peaked its radiance over the ridge. It was incredible. If you look close enough - and especially if you have a reference point like the mountain - you can see the moon move ever so slowly. The sky was clear and even with the moon like a spot light filling the lodge pole pine forrest with thick shadows, stars could still be seen. A meteor left a bright streak across the sky that stood for an instant as it burned up in the atmosphere. I immediately abandoned all thought of going on my long hike the next day and decided I would simply relax by the lake and take advantage of this beautiful campsite.

The next day, after sleeping in until 11 and then laying in the hammock all afternoon reading by the lake I encountered the guy you always will if you're traveling for long enough. I went for a short drive on the back country dirt road and when going back to the campsite I encountered a man stumbling and waving on the opposite edge of the road. I slowed the car, then stopped. It took all but two seconds for me to realize this guy was absolutely smashed. He had a wine bottle in his hand that had one big gulp left in it. He was staggering around unable to stand straight. He really wanted someone to talk too - so I sat in my car and he took a seat in the middle of the road by my car. Eventually he had to pee. He was going by the edge of the road which drops sharply at the shoulder a good 2-3 feet into a ditch. He was taking baby steps as he pee'd into the ditch - I saw it coming - the baby steps turned into him running then falling shoulder first into the small shrubs lining the ditch below. Then he couldn't get out. So I got out of the car and hauled him out. He had pee'd all over himself. "I've been to 50 states and 7 countries," he would tell me about 5 times during the course of our conversation. He wanted to write a book about his stories - he had some. Worked as a deck hand in Alaska, and New Orleans. Then up to Glauster, MA where he got arrested for throwing a beer can and being drunk. Three weeks in prison - trial - then sentenced three more weeks. The stories went on. I felt bad leaving the guy. He had a p.o.s. (piece of shit) mountain bike and two crap back packs hanging from the handlebars. A tarp wrapped around the frame and another plastic bag with some clothes in it. He had dropped out of high school at 17 in Kalispell, MT (where I am now!) and just started his life as a Nomad. He was a ragging alcoholic. Admitted by him. He tried to recite a poem he had written about being a Viking, but he was too drunk to remember it. He also had Indian (American kind) in him. Talked of fire water (crap whiskey settlers gave to Indians which ended up helping to destroy their way of life - not sure the settlers knew it would do this - but the Indians never drank alcohol - their bodies cannot handle it - they get drunk quick). I gave him my copy of "On the Road". I hoped if anything it would give him some motivation to write his own story. But I know it would take multiple miracles for that story to get told. A damn shame.

For two nights I laid in my hammock by the lake and watched the moon show. I never get sick of the moon. I hiked up an 8,000 foot peak over looking the lake and snowy peaks to the west. On Thursday I drove the "Going to the Sun" Highway through Glacier National Park. I drove all over the place. Out to the Plains Indians Historical Mueseum in Browning, MT (which was excellent) and then looped right back to Kalispell. I'm going back into the park today to spend 3 nights in its interior. Almost September??.......crazy!

The Moment is NOW

Ahhhh...Yellowstone National Park - the geysers, the hot springs, the wildlife!

Man...that place rubs me the wrong way in mid-summer. After 3 days of postponing, procrastinating by taking long drives through the Tetons and Yellowstone, and gorging myself to non-movement at all you can eat lunch and dinner buffets I decided NOT to hike into Yellowstone. Fuck Yellowstone in the summer - its a god damn zoo - with fat tourists in RV's that I didn't feel like dealing with. Plus - I couldn't find the trail head to my hike.

I decided I just wanted to drive - to burn some fuel and put some more miles on my car. I drove about 4 hours north to Salmon, Idaho. I small little nothing town. I stayed in a wonderful hotel there for $42 with an added $3 for a hot breakfast in the morning. "MMmmmmmm...that sounds good...I'll have that." It was a hotel out of the 1960's. Flashing neon lights -" SACajawea INN - VACANCY - Free Hot tub" (It was a hot tub in the middle of the breakfast room and yes the SAC is capitalized). The rooms were oriented in a U-shape with a nice grass lawn in the middle - each door faced outside and had a screen for the bugs to watch you. I enjoyed SACajawea Inn and found Salmon, Idaho to be quite pleasant.

Goldbug Hot Springs was only 20 miles away and my main objective for the region. A steep 1000' gain and 1.7 mile hike took me to some very lovely 100 degree natural hot tubs with a view of the valley I had hiked up. It was perfect - other than having to wait for the naked couple to finish up 'conudeling' right by the better soak zones. When I'm mature enough for a woman of my own - I'm taking her to Goldbug Hot Springs. I read and relaxed there for several hours.

I had been kind of fluffing around the last few days in preparation for a hiking weekend with my great friend Kevin who just moved to Bozeman, Montana to continue with his education. After the hot springs I spent a night outside Butte, Montana (en route to Bozeman). Butte's a city off 1-90 lined with slot machine casinos and neon lights. I also returned my second interim camera for I knew my wonderful mother sent my fixed camera - the one that broke in Wisconsin - to Kevin in Montana.

It was great to be able to spend the weekend with a Kevin and have some company out in the woods for once. He planned a perfectly challenging and rewarding hike in the Spanish Lakes region of the Madison Range in the Rocky Mountains only 45 minutes from Bozeman. On the first day on the trail we accomplished a strenuous off trail bushwhack over large boulders and a talus and gravel filled couloir up and over 10,000' "Crocodile Pass" - so named by Kevin for no particular reason what so ever. 40 - 50 mph wind gusts threatened to rip our tents down during the night but both our identical "Tarptents" prevailed. We hiked 16 miles on the last day to complete our 25 mile loop. It was cloudy and rainy mostly all of the last day - but spirits were truly souring. Both Kevin and I had difficulty containing how awesome we felt through out the day. I'll never stop saying it. There's energy out in the woods - more I feel the higher you get up a mountain. Perhaps it has something to do with the magnetic energy of the rock - I don't know - but we felt it - and that's why I'm always going back for more.

People

I was sitting in Meineke Auto Shop the day after my muffler rusted off the exhaust pipe. It dragged along the highway for 20 miles. I ripped it off entirely at a rest stop and drove to Casper on I-25 in Wyoming with no muffler - head out the window attempting to gasp air instead of exhaust fumes for 100 miles. It was Casper or bust. Anyways, this lady 60's - 70's, white stockings, kinda hobbled when she walked, hair had all kinds of crazy pins and fasteners - she went to the rest room at least 15 times in the hour. She was an old time cowgirl - man she was a riot. Asked for the spark plugs back that were being replaced in her truck - using liquid cement she makes a sculpture with all her old car parts - "I just put the old muffler right in the middle of it - oh its cute!" She used to be a bear hunter and a was once a hunting guide for lousy shot city folk. She even claimed to stick a shot gun in a mans mouth who stole from her. She was great. A Jersey girl moved country sat beside me and whispered "There's some real cowboys out here...".

I met an interesting fellow that worked at an Indian Shop. He was spouting "Little Field's Theory of Time" to me. I've heard it before and its true - its not a published theory, but it was established by my 9th grade World History teacher Mr. Littlefield. It essentially says time goes faster as you get older. It has a mathematical formula that checks out. I won't go into details - but it's absolutely all true as anybody can really attest - because we all have experience getting older - and how the days seem to slip by like they never happened.

After doing an incredibly grueling hike to Gannett Peak in Wyoming's Wind River range - 40 miles in 3 days - not sure why I push myself so hard sometimes - but I hike fast - especially when I'm solo - and sometimes to the brink of collapse. 17 miles on the last day left me beat. I ran into a group of three hiking out after their epic 8 night journey in the Wind River wilderness. After only a minute of brief conversation I was invited to dinner. My new friends were from Pennsylvania and recognized my east coast style immediately (who knew?). My plan was to head up to Jackson that night and eat at my favorite buffet salad restaurant. I said thanks but no thanks and I said good bye to some nice folks I'd never thought I'd see again. Turns out Jackson Hole was much further than I thought so I said hell I'll eat right here in Dubois. My newly acquired acquaintances where walking in the very same restaurant I decided on. This time I excepted their invitation to dine with them. Ohhh what a feast! It was the first time I had encountered some genuine hospitality on the trip! And they were from the east, Pennsylvania, the first state I really spent some time in on my journey. Maybe its because I'm opening myself up more too. Maybe projecting my energy out more and being more willing to let people in. A fault of mine that needs serious work is the tendency to keep bottled up or closed off. As the trip has gone on I have the urge just to talk to everyone. It's a great move because I learn so much from different people....things I would never even think about. I was treated to an incredible expensive meal that evening with virtually total strangers. It was a refreshing experience and so completely generous. I thank them from the bottom of my heart. And for filling me up for a good 12 hour period.

There have been several moments when I'm driving in my car by incredible scenery or hiking through a valley with towering cliffs on both sides of me when I cannot contain myself and my shoulders shudder and I let out a whooping WOOOOOOO HEEEEEEEE!! I love the road and I love the trail. Both give me absolute freedom. Is that what I'm after here? I'm not sure yet - and I'm not sure I'm ready to know. I'm going to keep moving. The Tetons sparked my love affair with the mountains when I was 18, but I'm going to bypass them and head into the Yellowstone backcountry. My 4th visit to Yellowstone and it will only be my first time camping in its massive interior. Bear spray is ready. All signs are a go - I'm off!

-Matt

"They have worries, they're counting the miles, they're thinking about where to sleep tonight, how much money for gas, the weather, how they'll get there--and all the time they'll get there anyway, you see." Dean Moriarty in Jack Kerouac's On the Road

My Wallets Gone!!! (and so are my trekking poles)

Chapter One - Rocky Mountains

Two equally dense slabs of of continental plates drove into each other for millions of years - each plate unwilling to give and thus they rose up higher and higher. The Rockies. Just driving west through the flat plains and approaching these things takes your breathe away. Their HUGE - and its such an incredible contrast from the flatness of the midwest. I'll never tire of seeing the first glimpse of these mountains. I never tire of seeing much of anything when it comes to nature. I feel pretty lucky actually to be so awe inspired by something that is so easily attained. The Rockies are mountains in their most intense form. Sharp, young, raw, and unforgiving. They spit lightning at will and rain hail down unexpectedly simply to let you know who's in control in the relationship of the mountain verse the climber. I have a huge amount of respect for the mountains. You don't climb a mountain the mountain lets you climb it. If the mountain tells me to get off when it throws lightning at me or hail I tend to listen.....but on my first of a six day back pack trip I opted to go head on against the mountain - ignore its fickle rumblings and push myself despite the obvious fact the mountain had no interest in me scrambling up its face.

Chapter 2 - Day One

Rocky Mountain National Park holds the 15th tallest mountain in Colorado - Long's Peak - a sharp notched mountain housed neatly around neighbors towering at slightly lower elevations. I planned a six day, five night, 50 mile back country trek that would having me standing on top of the 14,256 foot peak on the last day. In fact each night I slept at elevations higher than 9,400 feet. The last night I slept on a rocky grass spot all the way up at 11,500 feet.

The hike started with a bang with a climb over 12,354 foot Flattop Mountain - I started too late for a mountain climb in the Rockies. Warm moist air bubbles up from the hot earth in the afternoons causing currents of air to rise 30,000 feet in a matter of an hour to produce treacherous thunderstorms. With still 2,000 feet to climb I notice small pea sized hail balls pelting me against my paper thin rain shell. The mountain was talking. He said turn the hell around. My campsite for that first night was on the other side of the mountain. I pushed on. The sky all around me began to darken a deep shade of black. I pushed on. Echoes of thunder rumbled like the gurgle of a hungry stomach and I kept climbing. Why was I ignoring the mountain's obvious message? I wanted to do this hike. I was foolish and lucky. As I climbed over Flat Top I saw flashes of lightning off in the distance - thunder rumbled. The mountain let me live and I thank it. However, after nearing my campsite for the night I realized I didn't have my trekking poles. Despite a 2 hour desperate back track search. I could not find them. I concluded the mountain took them - for letting me live - I excepted the trade.

Chapter 3 - My wallets gone!!

The Rocky Mountains are home to black bears and in order to camp in the back country you are required to put all items with any type of smell in a hard plastic bear canister to keep the bear out of your stuff. This includes all things that have scent - obviously food...but also sunscreen, soap, toothpaste, bug spray, lip balm, sponge, and all things associated with your food - pot and spoon, etc. For a five night stay I couldn't fit all my food and other smellys in the bear canister - so I committed the sin of putting those other things in a nylon water proof bag. These items are to be left 70 paces away from your campsite so incase Yogi comes by to investigate - he's well away from you. This is to be done at every campsite - and those that backpack know all about it and its no big deal.

I woke up the next morning hoping to get a fast start on the day. The break down ritual begins - after getting the bear canister and starting hot water for coffee comes stuffing the sleeping bag, airing out the sleeping pad and rolling it up, emptying the tent and organizing gear by the pack, cooking breakfast, cleaning the pot, brushing teeth, taking down tent, folding up ground cloth, finishing coffee and then carefully reorganizing the pack to distribute the weight of the gear in the most energy efficient way. This process was halted from the start however when I came upon my bear canister and noticed the bright orange stuff sack containing the other smelly items missing. The spoon which was carefully placed in the sack last was laying curiously on some moss a couple feet into the woods from the canister. Something took the bag. I became nervous...then relaxed - fuck it. All those things can be replaced very easily - lets not worry about this on only the second day of your trip. Then I remembered. Don't ask why - because I could not tell you - but also in the orange sack was my money clip - in the money clip - $48, license, credit card, debit card, AAA card, and health card. The forrest began to suffocate me. Chris McCandless might rejoice at such a situation as this, but not me. I freaked out. How can I get a new license out of state, credit card on the road? The other cards? - not to mention I really liked that damn money clip and would have to buy another one. I had to search - but for all I knew this primordial beast took the sack into his cave and was devouring sunscreen and tooth paste heckling and fussing in glee. I began to comb the forrest - but what direction could it have gone?! - anywhere really - I'm fucked - why in hell would I have put the money clip in there? Why hadn't I hung the bag? Why am I such an asshole? I glimpsed yellow in the needles! My first aid kit! Forgot that was in there. I look around for other things...Nothing. I marked the spot of the first aid kit to have a reference and looked around from this new point. Then as if the mountain forrest parted and sweet Mozart music rained down on me I spotted the orange sack with the contents strewn out of the ground - money clip there! In fact all that was lost was my freeze dried coffee. Some crazed caffeine critter is reeking havoc right now in Colorado.

Chapter 4 - Long's Peak

This mountain scared me. It was huge and the trail was steep. When I viewed the trail from far it looked impossibly steep. And after reading "Into the Wild" (twice just on this hike) my anxiety deepened thinking about how easily and unthinkable someone can parish in the wilderness. I had good details of the climb from a magazine article but It wasn't the main trail - I was hiking up the far less traveled south side - up a steep long shoot of loose talus at a dizzying angle. I started my last's day hike only a mile from the summit - but needed to climb nearly 3,000 feet of vertical height. Half way up the shoot at 8 in the morning cold rain began dumping down on me...the rocks began to get as slick as...well...wet rocks. I hunched under a rock ledge which provided minimal protection. FUCK ME. What am I doing on this sickeningly sick rock shoot in the rain?? My altimeter said I still at 1500 feet to climb. Doubt crept all over me. To turn back now was barely an option. But here again the mountain was talking. It said get off me. I waited out the rain - patiently listening to water pitter off the rock ledge onto my shoulder. An hour and a half later I was standing on top of Rocky Mountain National Park! When I realized there was no more up to go - a grin formed out of my chapped lips. Being on top of this mountain after the most grueling 50 mile hike I've ever been on nearly tops out as my favorite back packing experience. Clouds were covering me in their white mist only to quickly part and give me clear views of the snow spotted mountains all around me. To a mountain climber Long's Peak isn't much of a mountain, but it was my toughest and most satisfying. I even had the summit to myself, a rare circumstance considering the obsession of people to climb all the 14er's. The more traditional "Keyhole" Route up the north side of the mountain is often a conga line of climbers hoping to summit before afternoon thunderstorms. I'm so happy to be climbing mountains for the next 3 months. You have no idea. Upon climbing down the 12 mile 5000' decent I immediately got a cheese burger and got the Triple S (SSS) treatment at the Holiday Inn in Estes, CO (spa, swim, shower). Currently in Cheyenne, Wyoming..heading to Casper, WY tonight then off to the Wind River Range south east of the Tetons.

Cheers all!

Rippled Black Glass

"The true education of a probing mind occurs unexpectedly and in surroundings that could have been neither anticipated nor provided" - The Drifters

I'm sitting in library in Stirling, CO - Northeast corner of the state - I've been on a whirlwind of driving and camping...

Minnesota - I rented a kayak and canoed around in the boundary waters of northern Minnesota. I'm an ocean guy at heart but being in those boundary waters - floating in probably the cleanest water in the world stirs up euphoria unmatched to other experiences I've had. Not necessarily better then say being on top of a mountain...but on a different sort of standard. I want to explore so much more of this place. I'll come back with my own canoe and take two weeks to paddle and portage all the way up to Canada.

North Dakota - I burst into Fargo, ND in triumph as a entered my 47th state (for my life time). Oklahoma, Alaska, and Hawaii and the remaining states to take down. I see no reason to ever go back to North Dakota. Theodore Roosevelt national park was pretty much the same as Badlands NP of S. Dakota. It was HOT, dry, and miserable actually. I camped out in the flatlands amidst the sand towers and grass mesas that make up the badlands of the Dakotas. I was told I needed to pack out my poop and toilet paper despite the fact that buffalo get to crap all over the trail. Should I eat that mushroom neatly poking up from the buffalo stool? At all times I was at high alert for rattle snakes, black widow spiders, and prickly pear cactus. Upon seeing my first rattle snake on the 4 mile hike to my 'out of sight from the trail' campsite I jumped 3 feet in the air and high stepped speedily away. I needed to get out of North Dakota and quick.

South Dakota - I needed to get on top of a mountain. So I opted for the highest point east of the Rockies and West of the Pyrenees of Europe - Harney Peak in Custer State Park - 7,242 feet high. Custer State park is a gem - as far as rock formations go it should be a National Park. Its far better then the scorching badlands if you ask me. Purposefully I avoided Rushmore and Crazy Horse and hiked my first state high peak of the trip - though high points are always a zoo in their own way too - everyone wants to be up at the highest point.

Nebraska - "the good life..." Just drove through - too damn hot

Colorado - OFF to Rocky Mountain National Park!!