See, Sea, Si

Thanksgiving this year found me in Puerto Penasco (Rocky Point), Mexico with Emily, Franz, Maddie, Katie, and Lana. We stayed in Emily and Franz's condo on the beach (Sea of Cortez), with ammenities such as ocean view, hot tub and pools, exercise room, internet, flat screen televisions. I experienced utter relaxation for the four days that we resided there. Not once did I put my watch on or check the time on any clock. It just didn't matter, no schedule, no phone service, no demands.

Maddie and Katie, as much as Emily, Lana, and I, loved going out at low tide searching for the sea's treasures: crabs, sponges, snails, shells, sting rays, and fish in the tidal pools left in and around the shallow coral reef.

Lots of game playing ocurred. Emily and I are officially addicted to the Seafarers of Catan, a rockin' expansion to the Settlers of Catan, where you have to worry about the thief as well as the pirate ship.

A Witness to the Changes

It was kind of hard to leave Montana last Friday. Nine months had passed since I was ushered into the Big Sky country by a snow storm whipping across eastern Montana. By late April, the snows of February and March quickly melted in the flat country and in the high country those same snows fed rivers and lakes for many more months. The summer was hot and dry and smoky from all the fires. But that didn't stop me from hiking, rock climbing, and traveling the state. And by August, the heat dissipated and fall settled in with cool breezes, golden aspens, and the occasional snow that majestically crowned the 9-10,000 ft peaks.

Its incredible. I've been a part of four seasons in Montana. I've watched this chunk of earth change as it makes its way around the sun. I've marveled at the beauty of the last wild (undammed) river in our country, the Yellowstone. I've paused to watch bald eagles soaring above alpine lakes. I've come face to face with weasels, martens, and marmots. I've seen meadows change from green grasses, to blankets of wildflowers, to burnt orange remnants of vegetation. I've picked my way along the frozen earth where bison have left three to four inch deep scars as they moved along the river foraging for grasses. I've been awakened from sleep to the chill howl of coyotes in the distance. I am a witness to these changes, to these lives. I've lived in Montana.

I feel a tug, a current that might just carry me back there someday. I'll be ready.

On Square Dancing

I have been recently introduced to the historic art of square dancing. The past two nights I have worn the night away spinning, doe see doeing, stomping and clapping. My friend, Collier, has a bluegrass band that plays around town. She and another band member just got back from a square dance calling workshop in Portland the other day and were excited to practice their new skill. They came equipped with about 13 dances to call. About 12 of us MCCers made it to the dance Thursday night (all of us novices). We danced for a few hours, it felt like I had ran three miles by the end of the night.

Collier invited some of us to her friend's farmhouse last night to do some more dancing. We had a feast of elk roast, potatoes, cole slaw, and garlic bread before the music playing began. The musicians included two fiddle players, one stand up bass player, a mandolin player, a banjo player and a guitar player. Throughout the night most of the musicians traded instruments and continued making music. It was incredible. There was also a washboard that some of us, not so musically talented, could try out. Square dancing once again into the night.

How cool is this place? I love it!

Dethroned

It is true. My title of Lord of Catan has been swiped out from under me.

Upon learning the game, Heidi, has beaten me and others two out of the four times that she has played. Not a bad record, if I do say so myself.

Still Scheming...

Lord of Catan

That's right...I am...for now.

Don't be jealous Evan and Brian, Calli and Lana, Emily and Emily, Mom and Dad, Alaina and Andrew, Sara and Phil, Wes and Rita, and all of the Judds.

I'm spreading the joy of Catan to the world. I've got a few more converts out here. Begging to be beaten.

When crew leaders have no one to lead...

...they become directionless. Looking for any type of amusement. Thus fence hopping.

We graduated our crew members on Wednesday and took off for an overnighter in the mountains on Thursday. There are eight crew leaders in Bozeman, we all get along great. Some hiking, some gaming, some eating, some sleeping. Nice.

(fence hoppers: Heidi and Tucker)

A Thermal Experience

It has been two months ago now. Two months ago that I moved from Billings to Bozeman. Two months ago that I was introduced to my new field crew who would see more of me than anyone else over the remainder of the MCC season. Almost two months ago that most of my crew and myself took a four day backpacking trip to Bechler region of Yellowstone national park. Bechler is a remote part of the park that has over 90% of all of Yellowstone's waterfalls. It is home to a large meadow stretching five miles in one direction and even longer the other direction. Continuing along the Bechler River, a hiker bares witness to waterfalls, cascades, steep canyon walls, and many thermal features.

Maggie, Katie, Joe, John, and I spent three nights enjoying the fall colors, the cool evenings, the starry nights and the soothing hot springs. This was my first experience sitting in a natural, boiling, hot spring. I spent two days in a hot spring affectionately called, Mr Bubbles. Mr Bubbles was a large spring that bubbled up from a large hole in the earth where a small thermal stream converged with the Bechler River. The closer you got to the erupting water from the center of Mr Bubbles, the more you could feel the violent vibrations of the stones that made up the bottom of the spring. It was intense. One couldn't help but wonder if it would at any given time just completely erupt like a geyser. The fear didn't keep us from standing right up next to the bubbling epicenter and eventually dig up the nerve to swim as fast as we could through it, scalding our skin as we thrashed about over it.

Wasting away an afternoon in the thermal waters of Mr. Bubbles

Looking down on Mr Bubbles

Searching for a spot where we weren't going to either scald our skin off, or freeze to death in the ice cold river water. No such luck, we quickly moved back to Mr Bubbles.

El Centro = The Center

A place to rest my head. A place to watch the Colts beat the Jaguars. A place to take a shower more than once or twice a week. A place to drink cheap coffee. A place that has furniture and mirrors.

A place to call home, for ten days - El Centro (Glendive, Montana)

Where will you be tonight?

Sleeping. Most people don't really think about the end of their day so much. They have their evening routines, their habits and customs that they mindlessly pass through on their way to their bedrooms, their mood lighting, their fluffy pillows. I too, for years, have passed through the day and into the night with out a thought in the world about my comfortable nightly routine. Those days have long passed me by, however.

I do not worry about where I lay my head each night, although it is constantly on my mind, being that I do not have a place to call my own here in Bozeman. I have "resided" in Bozeman for a month and a half now and have wandered from here to there finding places to rest each night. Each day is an adventure, not knowing where I will breathe my first breath of sleep when night falls.

Though there are a few drawbacks to being without a home, I love how my situation gives others the opportunity to open their homes, their lives to me. I am continually blessed by the generosity and hospitality that has been freely given to me. My life is rich with the company of others during my stay here. I've slept on floors, on couches, on day beds, on futons, in a box and in my car. I've been invited to dinner parties, the movies, hiking trips, rock climbing, to coffee, to concerts, to cookouts, to football games. I've frequented the library, the coffee shops, the parks, the thrift stores. It is almost like I am a resident here, in Bozeman, yet I have no address, I am absent of any nightly habits and rituals, and though I go to the library, I am forced to borrow someone's library card to check books out.

I've learned a lot during this short-term adventure in Bozeman, MT. I've been blessed beyond measure and am better for it.

As a sidenote however, I am gloriously looking forward to the time when I will be able to sleep in a bed any night that I want, a time when nightly rituals are a habit, and my mind is not wondering where I will be waking up the next morning.

A New Taste

I was introduced to Indian food for the first time last night. My friend, Maria, threw a party in which the guests were to bring an Indian inspired side dish. This proved hard for me. First of all, I've never eaten Indian food. Secondly, I don't have a kitchen to use even if I had known what Indians eat. Therefore, after much thought I arrived at the party with a small bag of almonds. A perfect side for someone without a kitchen. I was surprised to see the vast array of food on the table. I, honestly, had doubted the party's success - but was shocked to realize that lots of folks dig Indian cuisine.

The food was delicious. There were lentils, rice, and flat bread, although, I'm still not sure what most of the dishes were that I ate. All in all, I enjoyed myself immensely. And the almonds, though not the party favorite, were gone by the end of the night.

Hooray for trying new things!