I figured we could ride up Grant Creek Road, something we hadn't done since there was snow on the ground up there. I had no intention of riding the whole thing, but I figured we would ride up a little ways, and then turn around.
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| I thought it would also be a good time to try playing with the timer on my camera... It seems there aren't many pictures of us. |
We rolled out of the driveway, me spinning my trail gear down the street and going very easy on my legs. Things felt good. We rode over the Scott Street bridge and Julian looked down at all the activity in the rail yard. Coal cars, lumber cars, tanker cars, switching engines, banging boxcars and train horns.
Of course, it wasn't long before I was lured off the paved surface of the road, captivated by this little two track... I just can't help myself.
Ahem... well, I did eventually find the road again, and we got back on track... sort of.
We rode past the cemetery and this lovely scene:
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| Is it morbid to take a picture of a cemetery? I don't think so. Appreciating death is appreciating life. Freemasons say, "Memento Mori," Remember Death. Buddhists say, "You have only this moment." Appreciate the beauty in everything. |
As I said before, I make a horrible roadie. I need one of those "Caution, makes frequent stops" stickers for my bicycle. So, back to the road, and the business at hand.
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| Last time we were up here, this was all snow and ice. |
I kept the bike moving forward at an easy spin, just under 10 mph... REALLY slow on the road. There are some unexpected benefits to this pace, however. I didn't strain my already worked leg muscles, and we saw things that we would have easily missed had we been moving faster.
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| Forces of nature. How much must it take to topple these giants? |
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| We happened upon a small group of deer along the roadside. They didn't run. We looked at them. They looked at us. This deer was approximately 10 feet away. |
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| This one was a little more skittish and headed for the trees. |
The whole encounter lasted about 2 minutes. An eternity when you are that close. No cars passed. It was strangely quiet. Even Julian didn't make any noise. Then, just like that, they alerted on something and two took off into the brush. A truck passed at around 40mph, loud and reckless. I paused to wonder how people can drive their vehicles, fast and loud, and not stop to appreciate wonderful moments like these. I was reminded why I don't drive, and why I don't feel the need to go fast all the time. Its about the journey, not the destination.
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| Grant Creek carving through the lanscape. |
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| I decided this was as likely a turn around point as any. We stood here listening to the creek, watching deer, cows, sheep, and magpies. |
Yes... I marvel at just how alive everything is here. It may not be a big deal to Montana natives, who seem to be able to tune out the wonder of it and get on with more human-centric concerns... we moved here from Arizona where you could spend all day on the trail and maybe see a vulture and a lizard for wildlife, and the only water on the ground was probably spilled from your water bottle. Don't get me wrong, the desert has its own stark beauty. The mountains of Arizona are high and dry, beautiful yet somewhat sterile. Montana in comparison is vibrant, wet, and life flows out of every drainage right up to the edge of, and clear into the heart of the city.
We rode back to the road and headed down, back towards home... and I decided to rekindle an old tradition:
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| Coffee and Chocolate Chip Banana Bread. |
In contrast to our other outings, this one is special. It doesn't register as any more than a barely perceptible bump in terms of elevation or distance. We were gone less than two hours. Yet it serves to underscore that there is so much more to enjoying being outdoors than how far, how fast, how high... In a world which constantly extols the virtues of the superlative, I am happy to savor the beauty in the unremarkable.
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