how is it possible that a handful of odd ducks have a way of making you feel like you belong in the family in a very short amount of time? I think if you go once, you become a lifer. I have every intention of being back to scrub floors and scrape paint next year.

it has been a while since I had shared such sincere camaraderie from a group of strangers. I came back inspired, delighted and left with strong impressions from a few folks who habit the place.

thank you for elevating my heart.

James and I returned home from a fantastic two week long tour through the pacific northwest. I got home to unpack the car, take a shower, do laundry and send a few emails.

after spending this time hanging out with good friends, I find myself wondering why I live all the way out here again. or more specifically, how come I have not met any folks like those I really love and enjoy spending time with like I have in Oregon. granted I spent 8 years making those friends and there have been MANY along the way I have let go and left behind. I suppose it takes years to find those few key folks that you just love spending time with.

I feel like so many of the folks I have met in montana, lack the qualities of the laid back people I know in Oregon. it seems I know quite a few folks here, I should not say I have no friends, but it feels like many of the people I know here are not like those I have know to take road trips with, chill on the mountain with or just hang out and enjoy the day with. I feel like so many peeps here that I have come across, are often a little too uptight or aggressive about their adventures. now that I have reflected a bit, I see how skiing with Ben all the time actually gets a bit exhausting and that’s why I have just gone up to ski by myself the last couple of times and really enjoyed it. I am out there to enjoy skiing with friends. where are those friends?

I know that I have had summit fever too, and I have needed to push to the summit of things due to my own struggles with life and myself, but I still feel like my aggression was never to prove to the world to ski the sickest couloir or ski the gnarliest line. no. not at all. the reason why I have turned to the mountains, is in the serene peace and beauty that comes with. the reason why I ran for the hills has always been their lack of judgment of your abilities, agonies or personal struggles. I went there to find peace and to scream into the void. somewhere that I felt like I belonged to, and no one could take it away from me. it was my thing, solely mine.

while I chased my inner peace, I came to realize that the greatest things about these adventures were always the stories collected, the companion ships shared and more than the conquer (or epic failure), the icing on the cake is the bond created by the adventure shared. the chase and the whole part about getting there, sleeping in the dirt and waiting for alpine starts. or to have everything go wrong and it still turns out to be a wonderful, memorable experience. it’s always in the journey, shared with a good friend, that makes the adventure. the summit is only about 5% of it.