GLACIER: summits and so on�
We�ve been on the road now for seven hours which means about five to go and I�m suddenly struck by how much I hate eastern Washington. God, what a wasteland� nothing but dust and tumbleweed, a cosmic mistake.

Honestly, after being in Glacier for a week, it�s hard for anything to compare to its beauty but it�s also hard not to see beauty in everything. Leaving is a melancholy thing; it makes me slightly ill and tres nostalgic� but it�s still to a lesser degree than that first year when we were forced to stop the car on the way out of the park so we could both weep. Then, we were afraid of what to come. Now, we have a greater hope for a stable future, a love together, a good relationship with family and friends.

Classes start tomorrow for all of us, including Justin. His last chance at an internship in Bend informed him Friday that they didn�t have the budget for his position. On one hand, that means that he doesn�t have an internship and if he can�t find one his masters may well be kaput. On the other hand, it means he�s staying with me in Eugene where we can lead our little life to its fullest with Rupert. Even though Justin�s tuition is paid by his grandfather, he still lacks a source of income. So we say goodbye to the lap of luxury and hello to the frugal living of genuine college students. At least the Wega is paid off. More than grinning and bearing it, I�m glad. It seems more natural. It seems like what should be. Everything happens for a reason- for the first time since we�ve met, our lives have converged on the same plane. We�re in the same city doing the same thing by our own effort and that feels good.

Glacier was good for us, as it usually is. Waking up early affords little in the way of cuddling and fornication but long days on mountain panorams and chilly nights have more than their share of romance. I especially get euphoric after a big climb, especially with the little impact hiking has had on my body this year. It�s my way of congratulating myself on training and saying �hey, I CAN because it was THERE.�

The first year we came to Glacier I was about fifteen to twenty pounds heavier give or take the five or so lbs. of muscle I�ve put on since then. I psyched myself up when we got there and promptly decided to summit whatever I could. The first day, amazingly gung-ho, I insisted upon attempting Mt. Reynolds, a lower peak sticking out of Logan Pass. I was horribly out of shape but gave it a good try. I thought I could do it. I was proven sorely wrong. A small distance up the mountain I was struck by horrible vertigo and clung, sobbing, to the face, clawing my way to a rock overhang and hiding there until I could work up the courage to rest on one of the shoulders. We didn�t try any more summits that year and I had to work on my trust of my boots, my balance, and my body. It�s no wonder I screwed up, given that I hadn�t done anything REMOTELY like climbs in Glacier before in my LIFE. I think that first climb up Reynolds was the most difficult thing I've ever done. Just adjusting to the way scree moved under my feet was frightening, not to mention getting over my blistering fear of heights.

Last year I was in much better physical condition. I vowed that Glacier would never again �Take me� the way it did the first year. I trained not only to improve my health and self image but mostly so that I could come back and conquer what had challenged me. Still, the first mountain attempt still kicked my sorry ass and I spent much of the next week living it down but made two other, smaller summits (Oberlin and Piegan, not really that noteable).

So you can see why Bearhat was a feat for all of us, being that we had to route climb and Justin had never been on it before. This year I swore I would take down Reynolds.

After Bearhat we took a day off, relaxed, read, slept, took a stroll down McDonald creek. The next day we hiked up the Highline trail, a fifteen mile stroll to Logan Pass, until we got to Granite Park Chalet (only 4 miles up). Some marvelous views from the trail and huckleberries a-plenty. We picked at least a pound or two of berries and ate as much as we could stomach. We took lunch at the top (Justin looks like a dork in that picture!!) and there met a park service employee named Chris who was more than happy to share knowledge about the park and outrageous stories he�d picked up over the years. He told us about a stupid couple who insisted a pair of Mule deer were a �bighorn sheep and an elk� and when he told them that they were both deer, the man insisted that �the one in the back, it�s gotten big enough to be an elk!� Deer and Elk, like cats and dogs buddy� We saw one docile mule deer sleeping by the trail but no bears. He also told us a horrific but classic story about a woman who, twelve or so years ago, smeared peanut butter on her two-year-old's face in order to take a picture of a "tame" black bear licking him. The child was throttled, mauled, and killed. Thoroughly licked clean, I'm sure.

On the way down, a couple informed us of a black bear on the trail but when we got there it was nowhere to be found. Coward, I say!!

The next day it was an early rise to drive to the pass for the second attempt on Reynolds. �You will not have me again!� I said. So yeah, I was a bit ECS (emotionally committed to the summit, as they say). The hike to Reynolds is considerably shorter than that to Bearhat or for that matter, ninety percent of the mountains in the park. By the time we got to the saddle my usual morning nausea from nerves had worn off and I was ready. Murray left us on the saddle and spent the day on the Dragon�s Tail reading to rest his strained knee so it was just Justin and I on the mountain left to find the correct route. Reynolds is the only mountain in the park which has kicked JUSTIN�s ass four or so times due to wind when coming off the east goat trail. So he knew the first half of the route, the easy part, very well. We were more dubious of the second part of the mountain involving (and I quote) �class four cliffs with potentially deadly exposure below rotten cliffs.� Oyyyy. The first slog up the scree chute made me doubtful of my abilities but once we got above that I knew I was doing three-hundred percent better than my first ascent. My pulse barely rose where before I�d been clinging to the mountain for fear of falling off. I laughed when I saw the rock I�d cowered under and when we got to the fearsome goat trail, I wasn�t even intimidated. Ok, maybe a little�

We came around to the exposed shoulder after the trail where Justin assured me we�d need to hold onto our hats for the blustery wind. When we got there, it was dead quiet. For a moment I laughed and pointed at him for all the times he�d gotten blown off the mountain. Then I was almost knocked down by a huge blast of wind� and after that it was quiet.

We summitted in about two hours, nearly three less than Bearhat, picking our way precariously over difficult cliffs and up nearly three-hundred straight feet of rock to the top of the mountain. At times it was freakishly hard or scary, especially not knowing if our route was right and having been told by Chris that someone had died on Reynolds earlier in the season. But we didn�t turn back and barely stopped� mostly because looking down made me ill and the thought of going back down the same route turned my stomach.

We spent precious little time on the summit. While we stood there, the freezing wind picked up and snow moved in. We signed the register, took pictures and headed back down the southern slopes of scree, a much less technical climb but one that would have been more of a bitch to get up. We met a solo climber from Austria or something (bad English) on the way down as he was heading up into the snow. We made it down in less than an hour, scree-running almost the whole way. (we stopped to take a few posed shots... 1, 2)

I kicked that mountain�s ass!!

We came down from Reynolds and "snuck" into the Valley Below the mountain, a lush bowl called the Hanging Gardens. When Justin was little, the Gardens used to be open to hikers who crisscrossed their face without leaving trails but trampling wildlife and foliage. The gardens have been 'off limits' but viewable from an extensive boardwalk for years. Personally, I figure that since we're not crappy tourists , we have an inholding, and we're actually doing climbs that we're entitled to special access provided we respect the landscape and don't damage anything. I know, I'm an elitist. But there's this one place down there that I've always wanted to see, this waterfall they put on posters called the Great Cleft or something equally sexual. It's got to be one of the most amazing shots I've ever seen of Glacier. You can see it from the boardwalk but it's about half a mile away and microscopic. I got tired of this and insisted we take one of the old trails down and see it up close. Justin grumbled a bit at the idea but when Murray said he thought it might be fun, he gave in.

The Hanging gardens are amazing any time of year, even this late when there's nothing in bloom and the sky is grey. They're phenomenally gorgeous and lush, crisscrossed with light springs and roaring creeks depending on the season. We hit them on a particularly uninspiring day but I took every moment I could to appreciate the splendor and the potential for splendor. If you look close you can see the glory! Mainly the point of the detour was to find the damn waterfall which is not very difficult though it required hiking over some slippery and ankle-bending rocks. I hike too slow for people sometimes when I'm being careful. Murray kept saying, 'you're so slow, kat!' NYAAAH,

Anyway, we found the falls. Not roaring like in the picture, nor graced with a breathtaking sunrise... but they were there like they will be till the next ice age. Come to think of it, they'll be covered in meters of snow in just a few weeks. Hmm. Took a few shots from different angles (looking down the falls, justin sitting near 'em and justin and murray looking disgruntled). Then we went home. Wasn't as spectacular as I hoped but wonderful, still.

The next day was another day off. Justin and I took some of the hybrid cycles (they have nice bikes in the shed at the cabin) along Going-to-the-Sun Road up to Avalanche campground, six miles uphill and walked along the .7 mile Trail of the Cedars before biking back. Tim came in the night and humoured Murray, Justin, and I as we smoked some choice weed and ate three pints of Ben and Jerry�s/ Hagen Daas.

Saturday we all got up early and drove the hour and a half over to Many Glacier and hiked halfway up Grinnell Point, a sub-peak of Grinnell Mountain. I started getting frustrated at hiking with Tim since he goes so fast (and doesn�t realize it) and overly emotional about leaving so we stopped on a miner�s trail that criss-crossed the face and ate lunch (I look like a dorn in this picture!!) on an overhang before investigating the mine and heading back down. I guess I was hiked out, having walked/ biked over forty miles this week. (Can you fsking believe I actually lost five pounds while there? In a week?!? I'm wasting away! Give me chocolate!!!) No one else seemed to particularly aspire to reach the top either so we spend the evening over warm bowls of soup.

The snow that had begun to descend on us in the surreal quietcold of the Reynolds climb was now clinging to peaks across the valley and through the pass. That morning was the first time that I'd been out of the Lake McDonald/ Logan Pass area and the first time in several years that Justin had. I still think I favor the pass but the views over St. Mary's lake and in Many Glacier were PHENOMENAL. The sky was clear and the air was crisp and a high wind chased wisps of snow and cloud across the sky. Fortunately, we got in all our major hikes and climbs before the snow and wind. I can't IMAGINE what hell would have been like on Reynolds on Sunday. (See before and after!!)

I hate to get all photo-album-esque, but this is where the phenomenal landscape shots come in and without a real story to go along with them. We took most of these on the drive from Lake McDonald, up through Logan Pass, down into St. Mary's valley and over to Many Glacier. I call them the snow series because really it's the snowfall that makes them so phenomenal:

-Mt. Clements
-St Mary's Valley Plains
-more plains
-Six shots of Mt. Reynolds (can you tell I have a really sentimental attachment to this phenomenal mountain?) 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.
-A view from near St. Mary's lake.
- Look at the light coming through those clouds.
- I love the snow on this mountain
- another snowy peak
- Alpine brush on Logan Pass all covered in snow
- Another view of St. Mary's Lake
- I'm not sure where this shot was taken, but it's pretty!

Before we packed, I walked over to the faery castle, a stone and moss structure built into the wooded hillside over the years by the patrons of the Speyer cabin. It�s a sacred place for sacred things and I said my goodbye to Montana there, as the sun went down.

We loaded up the car in the morning, said goodbye to the lake, goodbye to the house, and smiled for a few photos. (1, 2, 3).

So now it�s back to the daily grind, stress, pleasure, and all that. Whoooeee. The only thing that stays the same is change.

Now we�re along the gorge and the sun is getting lower in the sky. It looks like it�s raining in western Oregon, just like home should be. The song it saying over and over behind me, �I�ve had the time of my life, no I never felt this way before��