First attempt in awhile...Be Patient..I lost my brain in the Nature...and in too much bumping around!

I’m heading eastbound to Maine. I’m rocking back and fourth on the Amtrak Empire Builder train, pushing on through Montana like a slithery snake. It’s obviously autumn, and the yellow land rolls on and on, endlessly. Pale purple mountains make the backdrop. Clouds move lazily across the sky. I can see for what seems like millions of miles. The sky is like a massive blue blanket of hopeful something or other. Tiny farmhouses, black cattle, spotted horses with shiny coats and power lines lazily dot the landscape. I am small and unnecessary yet I feel huge and monumental. I have a lump in my throat. A dull pain in my heart. I hate to see Montana become another memory but once again…it’s time to move on. Move on.

Like a childish lover I want to cling to the intimacy I’ve had here in this state. In this place. I want to hold it and I want it to hold me. I feel in my belly that I belong here. Just not now. Not yet. The old familiar need to push and go and look and see is there…still burning…not as bright but the embers refuse to die out. I feel at home in transport. I feel somehow correct. When I am floating past the world around me in a pod of some sort, I have no place to be but there. Here. Watching, moving and going.

It feels like hands are washing over me right now. It’s only noon, but it feels much later and the autumnal light makes me remember things from my childhood. It makes me feel nostalgic. Montana is soothing. And I feel sad to know that in a few short hours, North Dakota will take precedence. Hopefully I can sleep to erase the pain of letting go of Montana and all that I associate with it.

It was one hell of a summer. One of the most lively chapters in my ridiculous life. I feel fairly changed from my four months in Glacier. I feel exhausted. Somehow my entire life caught up with me up there in the Ether. I feel tired. And older. And maybe more confused. And currently, less full of the intense burning I’ve usually had. I’m quieter, and I need quiet. I need a rest. I’m ready for Maine. I’m ready for no one. No intimacy, no real correspondence save for what I give to the postal service and what they return to me. I plan on getting my head on straight. Sifting through the last ten years of life and editing what I need to hold onto and what I need to let go of. This sounds fairly intense I’m sure. I just feel as though it is necessary.

I made so many wonderful friends in Glacier. I met people who changed my perspective a great deal. I laughed harder than I have in a long time. I watched the sun come up many a day and came down from the mountain as it was setting. A 20 year old woke me up from a slumber I never even realized I was in. He showed me adventures and reminded me that I can do anything that is alive and well in my imagination. An 18-year wrangler sat with me by a fire he built for me, sippin on whiskey and beer and spitting chew, and in a thick Kentucky Appalachian accent unfolded a life an 87 year old should have lived, painful, and intense and full of fire. He reminded me to never be scared, and to always be aware of every emotion and feeling and not to back down. He had some heart. A 32 year old made me feel more loved and more in tune with my surroundings. I met a circle of folks who became my family. Holly Bertram changed my path; Hannah Gietl and Jake Upchurch may have changed my future. Jason Weber altered my immediate present. Sam Tatum reminded me to not give a fuck and to enjoy whatever the hell I want. Cody Bryant made me almost pee my pants. So many people affected me. A young worker for the Forest service spent a few days with me…and made my brain work in the funniest of ways. I felt surreal with him. He made me appreciate the simplicity of most things. He shared himself with me and asked nothing of me…and we had quite an adventure together. I was sad to see him go, but he felt like a messenger of some sort. A helpful transition, a reminder to keep going and not look back and not get hung up on unnecessary skewed things in my mind and in my heart. Glacier was intense.

I climbed and submitted mountains I never thought I could conquer. I was lucky to hike with avid hikers who not only were patient with me, but also showed me the way and taught me more than I could have asked for. I learned so much about the land I was lucky enough to live in and call home. It really is an overwhelming place, and while walking throughout the forest, or along a ridge, you are constantly reminded of the sheer magnitude of the landscape. It is rugged, and unforgiving, and ever changing. It does not request anything, it demands. The weather changes at whim and its unpredictable nature makes one HAVE to adapt. Yet it is beautiful. It fills you with an indescribable feeling. It’s overpowering. I’ve been brought to tears many times there, almost against my will. I suppose religious folks feel a similar way when they are close to “god”. Being able to explore and wander and utilize my surroundings in the way that I did was an amazing experience. I sat and watched Grinnell point change every day, many times throughout the course of the day. Gould and Wilbur became an obsession. The Garden Wall and the Ptarmigan wall met the sky and greeted me and sent me off to sleep. Nothing ever looks the same there. Nothing ever tells you the same thing. Swiftcurrent and Josephine and Grinnell, Sherburne and Cracker and Iceberg and Nataki and Fishercap and Ptarmigan…all changing, all different all the time. The foliage, like a lush soft carpet of green at times turned to a vibrant golden yellow in most spots. Those jagged mountains lost their snowy beards throughout the season and grew them back as the autumn storm clouds moved in and refused to leave, dumping buckets of cold rain and snow. I watched the wildflowers bloom and cover the valleys in exploding fireworks of blossom. I sat by Swiftcurrent Lake as it lay still, making the most beautiful mirror for the mountains to reflect upon, and watched a few hours later as whitecaps crested on the surface as the winds came in through the valley. The lake turning into a violent and tumultuous bastard. Everything is alive there, everything has a life of it’s own. Including the hotel. You can feel it in the employees too; you can see us all affected by it, by our surroundings, and by our home. It is altering. Relationships sparked up and began anew there, some of them died out. Nothing ever stayed the same. Friendships changed daily. Realities changed daily. Life plans changed weekly. The hotel and the dorms inhaled and exhaled us. Seemingly we were making our choices and decisions, in reality, we were just a byproduct of another season. Another summer. And now...I'm tired...and need to re-group. I need some sleep. and I need to shut down my brain...imagine the sound of a machine shutting down...or the power going out...for now...more later...Adios.