the winds

Went backpacking in the Wind River Range this past weekend. With Liss and Olive and a couple of cameras. The more classic photos are up on the dibble photography blog, but I'm reserving the right to show nothing but trendy iPhone shots here. It's kind of hard to beat having a little tiny camera in your pocket as you walk. The big one was carefully packed for easy accessibility, but there's no changing the fact that I have to take my pack off to get to it. Which isn't so bad in and of itself. It's the putting the pack back on that isn't so desirable.

We had some things to do in town [Jackson] on Friday morning, so we didn't head south until about 2. Found our way on dirt roads through blazing sunshine to the Big Sandy Opening. Walked the 6 miles into Big Sandy Lake at a pretty good clip, racing the setting sun. Definitely not a time to pull out the big camera.

Ate chicken salad and spinach for dinner under the waxing moon. It was chilly, we didn't linger too long before squirming into sleeping bags. Olive was a tired dog, having chased squirrels the whole way in, despite carrying her own heavy pack. She curled up at our feet in the tent and passed out.

A lazy morning by the lake, and we were off to the other end. Dropped packs there and made a quick trip up to Jackass Pass overlooking the Cirque. Glorious. Reconnected with the packs and went in the opposite direction toward Deep Lake. Haystack Mountain loomed ahead, and a brief stop at Clear Lake made us all smile.

The wind was gusting on the wide open granite slab around Deep Lake when we arrived. Sun was setting, moon was rising. We bundled up, had a hot meal, drank wine [!] and tried to imagine what it might be like to climb the massive faces surrounding us. I didn't think once about emails I need to write or images I need to process on that second day. It was true escape, with one of my very favorite escape artists.

And then out. Woke up the next morning, already thinking about the to-do list. We took our time packing up and started walking back to the car. Stopped to soak our tired feet in the creek just a bit before the parking lot. I think we were both trying to delay the inevitable, to extend our peaceful moments in the woods if only by a bit. Remembering a time when this was our daily routine, when walking and cooking food and finding a good spot to sleep was all we had to worry about.

Those were the days. And in their own way, so are these.



Believe it or not, this is the face of a happy dog. Part smile, part snarl, all good.

far far away

Jackson Wyoming is just on the brink of too far from Golden BC to drive. Alone. In one day. It looks like just a hop and a skip on this map. Don't be deceived. I drove it yesterday, and I can verify that it's far far away. Which is tough, because that's where part of my heart lives.

chopped

I've been told all my life that I have beautiful hair. I grew attached to the compliments, attached the security of knowing that something about me was unanimously likable, attached to as much of this proclaimed beauty as possible. I've always had long hair. Lots of long hair.

Until today.

I've been tossing around the idea of cutting my hair for, mmm, maybe 20 years. I've talked myself out of it for various reasons more times than I can count. But today the pros outweighed the cons. I'll break it down to these three:

1. An exercise in letting go, in non-attachment, in embracing change.
2. A gamble on helping relieve persistent tension headaches.
3. An opportunity to give. To give someone else my confidence.

Renae Murray at The Hair Place in Jackson Wyoming took the helm on this one. I brought her photos of cuts I liked and didn't like, told her I didn't have a clue what my hair might do when short, and trusted.

I sent the donation to Beautiful Lengths, an organization started by Pantene. A bit of snooping around on the internet revealed that this program has created more wigs in just a few years than Locks of Love has created in over a decade.

little joys

Things are not going as smoothly as hoped right now. The effects are pervasive, daunting, even frightening. But I'm finding peace in the littlest joys. They are worth noting. They are what keeps me going.

• More moments of daylight with each sunset.
• A truckload of rich soil delivered to our garden. Like black velvet. The most excited I've been in weeks.
• Riding my townie bicycle on dry roads past blossoming fruit trees. Not getting in the car for a week at a time.
• Fresh cut flowers on our table.
• A steaming cup of coffee. Delivered.
• Purging, getting rid of stuff, cleaning out the old, making space for new things, new ideas, new attitudes.
• Spending $2.25 at the thrift store. Bright earrings, a retro belt, a very soft shirt.
• Homemade salad dressing. So good I want to eat salad for breakfast, lunch, dinner.
• The smell of laundry dried on the line, crisped by fresh air and sunshine.
• A perfectly cooked egg. Somewhere between soft boiled and hard boiled.
• The first spring day when we open every window in the house and let the breeze blow through.
• Being introduced to new music. Like the song This Too Shall Pass [aptly named] by OK Go. Or a current favorite, The High Road by Broken Bells. Thanks Jian Ghomeshi.
• Cooking on a gas stove. Distant memories of the old electric one.
• Crossing things off the list. Completed projects. Even little ones.
• A hot bath with a glass of red. Decadence.
• A good sneeze.

on a saturday

Some of the things I'm loving on this last Saturday in February:

1. Clean, cold water in a huge mason jar. And all the privilege that such a thing implies.
2. Radio 2 in the morning. Radio 2 in the evening.
3. Hot coals in the wood stove from the night before.
4. Being in the alpine surrounded by white.
5. Laughing with my man.
6. Hot hot hot showers.
7. Soul. And people who can leave it all on stage. Like Matt Anderson singing I'm On Fire.
8. Making sourdough pizza with cilantro pesto.
9. Eating sourdough pizza.
10. Tired muscles and a calm mind.

built for two

I love sifting through the old stuff and finding images I'd passed by the first time around. Such was the case with this one. From a narrow little alley in Lijiang, China.

somewhere warm

It hasn't been snowing here. Which makes being here a little less exciting. Which makes me think about where we would go if we went on a winter holiday to some warm place. This shot I took on the way back from Nica last May makes me think Cuba would be a good answer to the hypothetical question. Yes. To Cuba. That's where we would go.