And then I went to Idaho...

The wallpaper on my computer is a picture I took on my spring break trip to Idaho this year:

I was going to watch a quick episode of a show, but then I felt compelled to look through my Idaho pictures. The Idaho trip I took was my first solo trip after a really non-ideal breakup situation.  It was the first time since the breakup I just was able to get out on my own and realize how much fun I could have all by myself with the dog.


  I feel like this Idaho trip had really started something pretty phenomenal in myself.  For the first time in my life I felt like I had complete control.  The major breakthrough on this trip was my first hike in over a year.  I had put on my stiff hiking boots and didn't even pack lunch because I was sure I wouldn't be out long.  I ended up going on a nearly six mile hike.  A very steep three miles in each direction.  The trail was also covered in snow.  It brought me pretty close to the tallest peak in Idaho, Borah Peak, amidst the Lost River Range.

I gained and amazing sense of self on this trip; a feeling which has perpetuated throughout the summer.  I feel like on my own I have so much more pride and determination in my my actions.  Everything I do is because I and only I want to do it.  And everything I achieve is because of my own perseverance.   I certainly don't remember feeling like this when I was in a relationship.  Was it because I've been in the wrong relationships?  Or is it just because I haven't had the opportunity to prove myself to myself yet?

I find myself bringing up my Idaho trip frequently in conversation. It was just such a fun and perfect 4 days.  I trip I would have experienced in an entirely different way if I had been in a relationship.  There is a lot I've done recently which I never would have done if I hadn't been single. 

So I guess the long story short is, do  I try and pursue a relationship and hope that I can maintain my drive and determination, or should I wait until I feel the need to be in one? How does this work? I'm confused. A huge part of me wants to try this whole relationship thing again and another part of me is terrified.  

11th Commandment

Quick entry.

For the past week or so I've had my mind on climbing 11th Commandment. It's a route down in Kootenai Canyon in the Bitterroot Valley.  It was one of the first climbs I did in Montana; therefore it was one of the first climbs I ever did as a "rock climber" because prior to living here I hardly ever climbed and never went outside.  Last summer, I couldn't get up 11th on a toprope.  I got about 1/2 before getting stuck at the crux.  Even when I climbed it in May (also on toprope), my arms got over-pumped and while I got to the top, it was a struggle. I had it set in my mind that I was going to go lead 11th first thing when I got back to town...

... and I did it! AHHHH it felt so good. It was a big hell yeah in my book.  It's not even that hard of a climb (10.a) - - although it is super muscly and the start is overhanging on the way to the first bolt.  Either way, I lead that shit and it was the PERFECT way to start the school year. Plus, ratings are totally relative.  It could have easily been a 10.b/c in other places.

Unfortunately, the graduate students are already freaking out and stressing. I had trouble finding a belay partner for today -- people somehow already were backed up with work. Before school has started. The last day of summer. Give yourself a break and go climbing! You'll be way more productive later, I swear.  I called up my friend Andrew, who is fairly new to rock climbing but who had expressed interest in going when I got back. He was down.  I trusted him to belay me, although he'd only belayed on lead a handful of times.

We warmed up on "Sleeping Beauty", a 5.9 and a Kootenai classic.  You have to cross the river to get to it and the all is in glorious shade all afternoon. I'd never lead it before, although I'd toproped it a bunch last year.  I felt like I cruised up it.  Andrew had fun, but it was a hard warm up for someone new to climbing.  We then crossed back to the main buttress to do 11th.

It was just so awesome to do those climbs. And while I was doing them I was loving it.  Sometimes I'm climbing and I'm in a bit over my head and the fear/adrenaline overwhelms any other feelings.  But today I just had fun (ok, there was a spot on 11th where the rope drag was really bad and I had to tug to get slack to climb/clip bolts and I was freaking out a little. But just for a moment).  I feel like climbing gives me something to live for. I know that's kinda deep, but it is a lifestyle, more so than any other sport.  I can't just take a week or two off climbing and expect to jump off right where I left off.   It just doesn't work like that.  I've been viewing other activities (yoga, running, ect) as ways to get me better at climbing.  This is probably a really bad time to be obsessed with this, seeing as I have a master's degree to complete, but I just don't want to put it on hold.  I'm feeling on a roll and I want to keep going. crossing my fingers I can just do it all....

1st Annual Blackleaf Canyon Roundup

Well now I actually am 25.  This was a memorable birthday: a) because I got to go climbing in an awesome place; 2) because I spent it with strangers. And I had a blast!

I somehow got out of going to work on Friday, my actual birthday, and started the day right with breakfast at the Nova Cafe.  I got a vegetable scramber, hashbrowns, and substituted a gluten free mango coconut muffin for toast.  So good.

I also somehow found someone this guy I met on a climbing website, Mike, to drive up to Blackleaf with me from Bozeman, which was great because driving 4 hours solo is just unnecessary and it would mean I could climb an extra day, since the others heading up to Blackleaf weren't getting there until Friday night or Saturday morning. We'd climbed together once before in Bozeman and I had kinda got my ass kicked, in a good way.

  We left at 8:30 to get up in time for a good afternoon of climbing.  We got to the wall around 2:00 after establishing camp and warmed up on an 11.a multi-pitch route.  No joke, the first thing we climbed was a 6 pitch climb (~500 feet).  Luckily it was mostly 5.9-5.10 with only one pitch of 11.a, but still.  It took one climb before I was addicted to multipitch.  Before that I'd only climbed a single 2 pitch climb with a nice giant ledge for the 2nd belay.  Here I learned how to lead belay with my feet dangling in the air.  We then got down, ate some snacks, and then climbed the 3 pitch "Shotgun Wedding." I lead the first pitch (5.8) and toproped the next two (5.10ds).  We got most the way up this wall on the two different routes.  It was exactly what I wanted for my birthday!

Sun and shadows. 

That night, a bunch of people from the Missoula/Kalispell climbing crew arrived.  I spend the night of my 25th birthday with a guy I'd spent a day and a half with and two total strangers, Matt and Cindy, all of whom were awesome!  They are no longer strangers! 

We woke up the next morning, and Mike hauled me up "Zen and the Art of Bolting"; another 6 pitch climb. I lead the first route, then toproped the rest.  It was consistent back to back leading and climbing more strenuous routes and it was awesome to be able to get through it! I had to take a break to hunt my way through the 11.b route, but I made it non-the-less with only  2 or 3 falls/hangs the entire route. I was stoked!  Mike climbed the last pitch, a 12.b.   

Back on earth about 3 hours later I tried to onsite my first 5.10d (which means leading a route clean the first time you try it -- no falling or hanging on the rope).  I clipped the 9th bolt (of 10 total) and couldn't make the last move to get to the last bolt.  I tried and fell 3 times before giving up.  I was still really glad I tried.  It was really awesome to have encouragement from someone I felt could push me to my limits but not beyond them.  I onsighted  "G-Force" (5.10b) as a consolation prize.  We ended the day on "Mr.Sharpie", which was very much uncomfortably sharp.  Pretty quickly clouds moved in, we felt sprinkles, and called it a day.  We headed back to camp and rendezvoused with the other climbers for dinner and a fire.

The crew; crashpad couch and all! The dogs had a great time. 

The next day we got a whole lot of fun climbs in and stayed away from the routes with more than 2 pitches.  I started the day by leading a 5.9 "Legal Eagles".   At first I was feeling a little out of it.  Even after  the second climb "Messin' with my Mojo" (I skipped the 11.d second pitch and just belayed Mike) I was still not feeling it.  So to get back in the game I lead "Like a Fox" -- and suprised myself by onsighting my first 5.10c! I've lead c's before, but have either fallen or taken a break.  This one was a little overhanging.  Probably one of my most favorite climbs of all time!  Super, powerful moves and a little bit of traversing.  I was feeling motivated, and after a short break, Mike encouraged me to climb the first pitch of "Prozac Moments" (5.10+).  I needed one break but other than that I made it up! Stoked to finally be making it up harder routes and doing so almost cleanly.  Mike lead the second pitch, a 12.b, and he fell for the first time that weekend but still made it up.

Mike on repel.  Not sure of the route.  As we climbed up the cliff, we traveled through time.  Roughly every 100 feet was completely different rock (all limestone but different textures, deposits, grip, holds...). If we looked carefully we could see fossils of ancient sea creatures!

We were feeling pretty done  after that.  I lead one more route ("Spare Change" a 10.a/b), which had a super tricky move near the top. I had to high step to a completely bent knee and straighten it, with the very edges of my fingertips holding me on the wall.  Hard but fun, once I had made the move anyways.  My wounds from the weekend were minor. Scraped up legs and very red fingertips. 

It was such a good weekend -- awesome to meet new people, get on some harder routes, learn how to do multipitch.  Probably the most memorable moment was when the wind was blowing hard as I was climbing about 350 feet off the ground.  I literally thought "What the fuck am I doing?" and "This is some of the most alive I've ever felt" at the same time. It was powerful.  

The right wall is completely undeveloped.  

Solo hike into the Spanish Peaks, Lee Metcalf Wilderness

 8/3 Taylor Lake at the base of Gallatin Peak
Perfect day.  Really quite perfect.  After 2 beers with my friend Brooke at the Bozone taproom last night, I declared I was sleeping in on Saturday.  I needed it.  I've had such a lack of sleep this summer.  I woke up at 10am, and it was glorious.  I leisurely packed my things, casually wrote some computer code, listened to car talk, and ate pumpkin pie oatmeal.  Seriously, I've been mixing pumpkin pie mix into my oatmeal -- and what a discovery.  Regardless, after all that I drove out to the Gallatin Canyon, about 25 minutes out of town (seriously close), but not without a stop at the Dollar Spree.  I'm never going there again.

I got an alpine start in the trail (2 pm) and began the trek up the Hellroaring creek trail towards Gallatin Peak.  There were about 5 breezy miles initially, through a dense Douglas -fir forest up the creek.  I ate wild strawberries, raspberries, and huckleberries until my stomach hurt. I tend to have a rather sensitive stomach.

Hellroaring Creek

We broke through to a thin band of pure lodgepole forest as we climbed up the N. Fork of the creek.  The hike got more strenuous, the weather remained great.  We climbed up long switchbacks before reaching the base of Gallatin Peak, the tallest in the Spanish Peaks range.  I looked down on the trail and spotted a whitebark pine cone.  Who needs an altimeter?  Just look at the trees! Feeling very close to the alpine, I pocketed the cone and continued on.  I feel bad about keeping the cone, maybe I should break it open and plant the seeds? At the same time, however, the cone's purple twinge intrigues me.  I guess I'll decide tomorrow.


We finally reached the alpine and walked through meadows filled with wildflowers in the narrow valley between Indian ridge and the peak.  We set up camp away from the edge of  Thompson Lake.  It is a gorgeous spot, actually better than I had hoped for.  It's also freezing cold.  I am huddled with my head under my sleeping bag and I'm glad the dog is at my feet to keep my toes warm.  I was craving wilderness and I definitely got it.

Thompson Lake

Campsite

8/4 Summit Lake 

In the middle of the night I woke up and was pleased that despite sleeping under the much needed rain fly, i had remembered to open my tent door and view the stars.  In  the morning we woke up to howling winds whipping at the side of my tent.  I had stayed warm in the night, but the thought of getting out of my sleeping bag before the sun my side of the valley was chilling.  I let Izzy out and snoozed another hour.   The wind made for a clear, crisp morning without a cloud in the sky.  We hiked up to the notch separating the N.Fork basin and upper Spanish creek basin and were surprised with a hanging lake, perched on the edge of the ridge.  I dropped my pack to sit and enjoy the view: Blaze peak to the west and Gallatin to the east.  I wish I had a week to just explore and connect all the trails out here.  I'd happily keep heading towards Spanish creek, but that would be me far from my car.

I feel incredible ease out here.  I can't believe this is my casual Sunday morning, sitting at over 10,000 ft between 11,000 ft peaks.  I love everything about the wilderness.  I want to spent my life in these places; I need to do something that allows me to keep this up.

Summit Lake

Back at home. 

Wow, I am incredibly tired.  I think I ended up hiking about 12 or so miles at least before getting back to the trailhead, and then another mile back to the car along the highway.  It was such a pleasant hike back.  I climbed up to Beacon Point, attaining views of Blaze Mountain, Table Mountain, and more peaks I can't even name.  We hiked along Indian Ridge for about 5 miles before dropping down into forest.  However, the hike remained open and scenic most of the way, and the sections through forest were exciting. There was a huge wind event which took out about 10 hectares of forest across the valley -- unfortunately my camera died so I couldn't capture it.  I walked through avalanche debris and a lot of whitebark pine killed by mountain pine beetle, their bark peeling away to reveal thousands upon thousands of galleries.  I also saw a lot of whitebark pine cones all over the place, making me regret leaving my intact cone back at camp.  The hike undulated down, through open meadows and dense forest, finally back down Indian creek and out to the highway. 

Whitebark pine killed by mountain pine beetle, a midst avalanche debris looking back from where I came.

 I pleased myself with my ability to just be quiet -- while I listened to music for about an hour, the rest of the day I listened to the landscape, the bugs, the creeks below, the chipmunks Izzy chased endlessly (she got one too. I had to drop a rock on it's head to put it out of it's misery.  Left it for the raptors).   It's such a different experience having a partner to do everything with as opposed to just going to do things by yourself.  I am a very social person -- I love being around people.  After nearly 6 months now of being single and on my own, I am glad that I do things by myself and enjoy them thoroughly.  It's almost as though having a boyfriend to do everything with is cheating.  I accomplished so much more on this hike doing it by myself than doing it with a man.  Sometimes I feel very alone; other times I am completely happy by myself.  I was very satisfied on my hike, and not lonely at all.  I enjoyed my time alone.  At time same time, the smell of pine needles baking in the heat on the sand brought back so many memories and with those a sense of loss and loneliness.  I am glad that I am the type of girl who can go spend a night in grizzly country by herself, let alone hike 25 miles on a short weekend trip.  I wish there was someone else to appreciate that too, I guess.    

Mountain Biking

Ok, so I feel like I am not very good at mountain biking, but it's becoming really fun to me.  A lot of times I find myself wondering why I'm not the type of person who can't be satisfied just reading a book or going for a run. No, for some reason, I need to put myself in situations where my adrenaline is really going.  So, mountain biking is becoming an avenue for that, apparently.

Yesterday I went on the most technical ride I've been on yet.  I did a ride called the Flathead Pass climb about 20 miles north of town.  Of course I brought my trusty adventure dog.  The ride was rated 3/5 in  "technical difficulty" in my guide. Well, apparently 3 is not in my comfort zone. I definitely had to get off and push my bike a bunch, but there were also sections that I pushed myself and surprised myself by making it up.

The weather was phenomenal. So were the views. The Bozeman area is really fantastic (oh yeah, for those reading this, I moved to Bozeman for the summer to work at a non-profit conservation organization called the Greater Yellowstone Coalition).  I'm riding my dad's old hardtail Marin no-bells-or-whistles-no-hydraulics-no-diskbreaks bike. It is sweet.

riding up through ranchlands

Izzy (in her new backpack) at the top.

The ride took place on a rugged, rutted, super rocky jeep road.  At the top, we ran into a bunch of ATVers and people who had driven Jeeps up.  What the hell is the point in driving a vehicle on a really rugged road?  

view looking south.  

We rode another few miles from the pass and got back onto trails very few people use. On the way down I learned the hard way that to ride down super rocky, rutted terrain, you need to go fast. I went too slow and ate shit pretty hard on the rocks. Somehow I walked away with only a scrape on my hand, which bled enough to get all over my shirt. I was pretty shaken up after the fall, but did get back on and then had fun again.  After getting back to town, I  had to run a few errands, and was humored by the fact that I was covered in mud with blood all over my shirt returning a mousepad at Staples. 

Evening climbing at Rattler Gulch

Just a quick entry, because I'm packing to move and should probably go to sleep.

Today, after working diligently for a few hours typing up code for my thesis, my friend Larry and I took advantage of the break in the rain to head to Rattler Gulch, about 45 miles east of Missoula.  Very close to Mulky Gulch in fact.  It was such a gorgeous afternoon and the new snow in the distance was a nice sight.

View from the top of "Snake Eye"

 We tacked some easy climbs (all 5.8's), but I lead them all and felt good about it.  I felt controlled and careful and totally within my ability level.  I feel like I'm ready to move on to leading more 5.9's.

The limestone ribs of Rattler Gulch

 Izzy, on the other hand, is not so jazzed about me getting up high away from her... She's certainly getting more used to the idea, but seems genuinely concerned that my life is in the hands of a 9.8mm yellow little rope.

All in all, a good afternoon/evening of climbing.  Nice to get out for one of my last days in Missoula for a while.

Sidewinder Wall

Spring Skiing on St. Mary's Peak

So today I accomplished a goal of getting another day in on the skis before the end of the "season." When I explained that, yes, I was going skiing on Tuesday, people were like "There's still snow?".  And yes, believe it or not, that white stuff you see covering the mountains all around Missoula is indeed snow. And yes, you can still ski it.

So, who better to go skiing with than this guy I just met at the local brewery, Ryan.  He has the familiarity with skiing the Bitteroot and the desire to go to ridiculous lengths to get a few turns in, so I convinced him to take the day off everything and go skiing with me.  We were originally going to do Lolo Peak, but opted for a more accessible mountain, St. Mary's Peak.  I didn't really care where we skied, I just wanted to be up among mountains in the alpine; something that has been lacking in my life lately.  The weather looked hopeful, and as I said, it wouldn't rain. The road to St. Mary's this time of year takes you within about 3 miles of the summit, which is still a decent skin in, especially in wet, sloggy snow.

We headed up until the most reasonable stopping point near the summit, drank a beer, and surveyed our options of decent.  By far the best skiing would require an extra skin out.  We did it anyways.

We skinned back up, skied down the ridge we climbed and totally overshot the trail on the way back.  Oh well, more skinning.  Springtime skinning generally involves a lot of non-snow ski interface circumstances, as in skinning over logs, rocks, patches of dirt, moss, beargrass, deer poop... you name it.  We skinned over all

of it.  Gear in good shape is gear that probably hasn't been used much, right?

  

Even before we got back to the truck, we decided we'd hit up the Blacksmith brewery in Stevensville.  I'm pretty sure I burned about 4 days worth of food in that hike.  Finally back in Stevensville, sitting on the patio of the Blacksmith drinking a much deserved beer,  the rain began. Perfect timing.