2030

Them.

I'm so so glad to have this blog as our personal record of our family's journey.  I reviewed some of my entries the other night, and was kind of blown away.  I was surprised at how much we've done.  I was also struck by how long it seems like we've been gone.  We're still very early into our travels, yet it feels like ages ago when we left South Carolina.  I saw pictures from just a few weeks ago, and it feels like they were taken nearly a year ago.  I guess when you're "on the go," time seems to add up faster than it's actually passing.  All this reminiscing forced a realization upon me.  While we've been absorbed in our life on the road, we're missing out on the lives of our friends and family.  Their lives are happening too.  We've been so isolated and preoccupied with our life, that it just didn't occur how things will be different upon our return home.  When we get back, people we love will have moved, had new babies, recovered from broken bones and surgeries, been on their own vacations that I haven't even heard about, adopted children, gotten new jobs, sent their "baby" to kindergarten, sent their "baby" to college, changed careers, gotten new cars, experienced death in their families, remodeled their homes, and generally lived life without us.  While I'm so appreciative of this opportunity in our lives, we feel an emptiness for not being able to connect with our family and friends in ways we normally would.

That being said, our entry to Montana was such a blessing.  After nearly two months of traveling, we were able to sit down for dinner with some old friends.

"K", LAR, and me.

Our dear friends from Kentucky, "T" and "K", were on a fly-fishing vacation in Ennis, MT.  We happened to be heading through the area at the same time.  Seeing familiar faces was such good medicine for our family.  We're so thankful they carved time out of their vacation away from their own kids to hang out with our family.

Montana is such a gorgeous place.  All of it.  We stayed in the absolute best campgrounds we've seen.  A good RV Park is a substantial mood lifter, so this too was a blessing.  Many places we've traveled have had a ban on campfires because of the drought, but not in Montana.  We enjoyed large wooded campsites, and many evenings of campfires with roasted marshmallows.

The property of one campground conveniently backed up to some cross-country ski trails.  We took the kids biking on them.  There was nothing dangerously steep, but they offered plenty of good hills for the kids.  It was so fun watching them work up the nerve to go down.  CBR was just plain reckless.  As he gained speed down a hill, he refused to brake.  Instead, he would panic and tuck his knees to his chest.  He looked hilarious flying down these hills . . . completely out of control.  Because of his disregard for his braking system, he suffered some flips over the handlebars and jabs to the abdominal region.  After one particularly messy fall he began to get upset, we started applauding and cheering like we'd just witnessed the coolest motocross stunt.  Amazing what the power of suggestion can do.  He dropped the tears, and began proudly showcasing his bloody wounds to us all.  I love that kid. 

Cross-country skiing trails in Montana.  Great for summer biking with the kiddos.

After Ennis, we traveled northwest for Glacier National Park.  Throughout the west, very little of our travel has been on major Interstates.  Mostly, we've bumped along desolate, poorly maintained, two lane roads.  If the RV hits a rough patch in the road, it isn't uncommon for things to come flying out of the cabinets, for the refrigerator door to wildly swing open, for the trash can to topple over, or for doors to begin slamming open and shut as we travel.  Translation:  a printer might come flying out of the cabinet, six yogurts and a host of condiments may scatter across the kitchen, the contents of the trash may spew about the cabin, or doors may become damaged.  We have solutions for these annoyances, so they normally only occur when we fail to secure or properly stow something.  As we were arriving into West Glacier, we turned rather sharply to the right.  The timing could not have been worse.  Poor LAR had just unlocked the refrigerator to open it.  This also unlocks the freezer.  Just as we turned, the centripetal force launched a solidly frozen, 3.5 pound beef brisket out from the freezer and straight into her face.  She was SCREAMING.  I know it must have hurt.  Her mouth immediately began to swell, and her lip was bleeding.  Within a matter of hours, we noticed a tooth becoming that gray discolored look when it is dead.  Thankfully, it was a baby tooth that was already loose.  Now, it's just much looser.  LAR was tormented already from her scary encounter with the momma cow in Nebraska.  She's been afraid of cows ever since.  But after this brisket incident, she's completely disenchanted with the entire bovine species.  

Upon arrival to Glacier, we were in awe of the beauty.  Having said that, it was covered in smoke from area forest fires.  The first day was very hazy, but it began to clear as the days passed, and we were able to enjoy what must be some of the most beautiful corners of our nation.  Glacier joins at the north end with Canada's Waterton Lakes National Park.  For that reason it's referred to as the Waterton-Glacier International Peace Park.  This has to be some of the most remote land we've ever crossed.  So remote, that upon entering the park, you see missing person signs of hikers who've disappeared.  It is a mass of gorgeous nothingness.  The main drive to the heights of the park's peaks is called Going-to-the-Sun Road.  It's an engineering marvel built in 1931.  Because of the extreme weather conditions, the full expanse of this road is only open a few months of the year.  As you climb in altitude and your ears begin to pop, you ride open-mouthed at the beauty.

Difficult to see in this picture, but here is a black bear.

The temperature was in the high 80's when we visited.  I was shocked to realize the winter conditions are -30 degrees with 100mph wind gusts.  People, NEGATIVE 30 degrees.  100mph winds.  How on God's green earth do animals acclimate to that type of swing in climate.  Nevermind the fact that they are up there fully exposed on the sides of enormous mountains.  We saw rocky mountain goats, big horn sheet, lots of birds, and the bear pictured above.  The solid white rocky mountain goat was amazing.  Even without his winter coat he was huge.  We learned that when their winter coat grows in, it is so thick that if you stuck your hand into it, your hand would go as deep as your wrist.

Going-to-the-Sun Road.  Glaciers everywhere.

There is supreme wizardry in the construction of this road.  They told us that even with today's technology, they don't think this road could be built again.  It's incredible the places they leveled off for driving.  You're literally driving on tiny ledges and overhangs.

We hiked about an hour into Logan Pass. 

Logan Pass was quite a hike.  Narrow ledges creep across a mountain side, offering you some gut-check views of Going-to-the-Sun Road directly below.  It's best to just look ahead -- it was so breathtaking.  We followed three big horn rams on this trail.  The trail also marks a unique feature of Montana.  Montana is the only state in our country that has a Triple Divide, and it's right along the peak we hiked.  The Continental Divide runs through Montana, but at this particular point, the water's flow will be designated to either the Pacific, the Atlantic or the Arctic Ocean.  We'd just been studying the Continental Divide, so to be able to stand at our country's only Triple Divide was pretty cool.  If you're into that, I guess.

Logan Pass hike.  Smoky smell and hazy views from surrounding forest fires.  Still awesome.

Most of the glaciers had melted, but you get the picture.  I wonder if he'll remember any of this?

While in Glacier, we really wanted to spend a day on the ice cold glacier waters.  We couldn't think of a better way than to raft the rapids.

Our raft guide, Brad, was a laid-back guy who also lived in a camper.  We liked him immediately.  (Please notice LAR's paddle turned the wrong way.  She opted to play the air guitar with it rather than actually paddle.)

Brad brought along some toys for the kids.  As we coasted along before getting to the rapids, Brad slipped CBR a water-gun and encouraged him to open fire.  This water was freezing!  CBR didn't hesitate and immediately declared war on the boat behind us.

After three relentless squirts, every single one of these burly dudes stood up in their boat and splashed CBR with their paddles.  Game on.  The rest of our ride was full of friendly fire from every direction.

All in all, we're getting along quite well.  The kids seem to be loving this lifestyle.  Thank God.  There are certainly hurdles, but it is so very worth it.  

The kids completed their requirements, and earned another Junior Ranger badge.  They're becoming quite decorated.

Lake McDonald at Glacier Natl. Park.  Before he would touch the water, CBR asked me if there were electric eels in it.  I love him.

We became experts at skipping rocks, and we played with Billie Jean around Lake McDonald.  The waters, due to glacial till, were a crystal clear Caribbean blue.  Stunning.

CBR found this twisted stick in Wyoming.  It's bent in the shape of a pistol.  He doesn't leave home without it.

The kids are still loving the allure of taking showers in the campground facilities.  You should hear how they cheer when I tell them it's time to shower.  I love these ages.  They are so easy to please.

The morning we left Montana.  I have no idea why he's wearing his cowboy hat first thing in the morning with his pajamas.  I don't care.  I love being woken up this way, and want to cherish these days with my precious family.

While in Glacier we learned that climate changes are deteriorating the glaciers in the park.  They expect them to be gone by 2030.  And once the glaciers are gone, they're gone.  This means when my children are grown, if they bring their children back to this place, they won't experience the same views we had together.  I'm glad I took pictures of the glaciers in case they don't last.  But mostly, I'm abundantly thankful for this last pictured moment.  By the year 2030, you won't be able to replicate the above photo either.