Dip me in the water. Baptize me of mountain snow melt and dry me with noontime sun. Give me a burst of courage to last me for the rest of my life. That’s all I need.We watched the river transform from Clearwater to Lochsa and set our tents just this side of Lolo Pass. The air tasted every bit of the anti-Pullman I was looking for. And a trace of Montana flavored the water.
The river was in a giggly mood this weekend. The laughing Lochsa. Roaring in the morning and during the day and laughing even harder when the sun began to set. Laughing at everyone who stayed home. We laughed with it, feeling not at home at all. But that's the point.
I drank a beer with Jeanie and Paula on a shaded table in the mountains and we thought of Lisa in Maine and my dad in his own mountains and I could taste how close the moment was to perfection. We paused to salute the river and those we love.
Paula showed us how to feel. Turbo in gear and the top down to let the landscape overwhelm us. Hats floating behind us because we’d rather feel the wind on our faces and over our heads. Huckleberry pie because why else be alive. And always a sky of absolute blue except for just that little wisp of cloud in the corner, as though we were meant to keep things in perspective.
A trip like this is all about perspective. I feel energized.
