Feet, Flooding, and Flowers...

The recent onslaught of persistent rain has been shaping the landscape of our days... quite literally. The hills are vibrant shades of emerald, and one can imagine the Irish-American settlers of days long past finding the valleys looking like this and feeling quite at home. The river is a swollen torrent which has not dipped below flood stage for over a week now, and while the wildflowers certainly don't mind the water, the residents who are piling sandbags at the waters edge certainly have mixed feelings about it - or so I would think.

Last night I went for a run. I don't do enough running. I've come to the conclusion that I am way overtrained on the bike. I can ride for hours, all day, hard, with lots of climbing... and my body just never says "stop." That isn't a good thing. I can so easily exceed my limits and pay for it dearly for days because of this. Have been working on stretching, nutrition, yoga, and thought some cross training might just tip the scales in my favor.

So after a relatively short run, my calves were burning a bit, I used the discomfort to focus on my technique, if I was striding correctly, it didn't hurt... then, at some point, my body forced me into a walk. That isn't unusual for someone who doesn't run all that much, but it IS unusual for someone used to being able to dig deep and push hour after hour. I'm used to forcing my body into compliance with my will, and here is my body quite literally saying "enough." Why doesn't this ever happen on the bike? I don't know. I intend to find out though. And I intend to run a lot more than I currently do.

My route took me along the river, and amongst crowds of my fellow Missoulians... all marveling at the spectacle of the flooding Clark Fork, the giant logs and trees being carried downstream, the roiling, turbulent, swift waters reflecting the purple hued sunset. I didn't have a camera. I had my shorts and a tee shirt. I had my water bottle. I had my shoes. One of the joys of carrying so little in the way of gear and equipment is being able to find oneself within a moment... I certainly spent some time soaking up the grand spectacle, bathing in the beauty of it. And my legs didn't mind taking a rest either.

So today we took the bikes and rode the same route during the drizzly day, and here is what we saw:

Completely submerged boat ramp along the newly completed section of path
through Silver Park.

This is taken from the Madison St. Bridge.
There is usually a large dry bank below the restaurant where people often fish.
Now you could fish from your table if you were so inclined.

Here's a shot from January.

And now in June.

I seem to remember these trees looking taller...

Near Jacobs Island, property owners are placing sandbags along the western shoreline.

The water is right up to the footpath.

This Canadian Goose found a bit of dry land.

The flowers don't mind the rain a bit.
An as yet unidentified inhabitant of the Kim Williams.
Bell shaped flowers on long panticles, several feet high.