Friday, February 24, 2012

If You're Curious

I updated the SnowFall post. Tried to make it flow a little better, but now it's just downright depressing! I think I'll leave it as it is and move on.

So...we've been shooting trap. Last week I shot better than I HAVE been doing and even hitting some shots that I have a terrible time with...the ones that zing out to the right or left from station 1 and 5. Boy, I was swinging that gun as fast as I could...and hitting them! Felt good to start digging myself out of a rut. But we've had some long days out there:


We found Dusty passed out next to a burn barrel. Kinda cute.



Grrr. Blue Creek bay. When I jumped out of the truck, the entire middle ground was lit up like it is on the right. All the trees glowing against a dark lake and a dark sky would have been a good photo.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Rough Draft

Yea, it was one of those things that I had to do. Ever get so caught up in a thought that you stop what you're doing and take notes? Then, when you try to write it the next day, it really doesn't come together like you had planned?

Seems as though that's what happened with my previous story. I think I'll still try to tweek it, but the transition between subjects is the issue. I need to tie everything together better. The only trouble is that I'm not very good at writing fiction. I have a hard time with tense and details, consquently it begins to sound like an overly dramatic poem. *sigh*

Oh, and Zach was kind enough to send me the photo I was thinking of when we went to Stanley hot springs. Hmm, I'm a good "sporting" liar though. Look at that "massive CEDAR!" Hahahahaa! At least I got the snowfall right.

Friday, February 17, 2012

Snowfall

We had a little snowstorm yesterday and I decided to gain some elevation a little bit to check out the accumulation. It wasn't really piling up, so hiking through the two inches of new snow wasn't difficult, but I moved slow to take it all in. The flakes were the size of marbles and falling slowly through the still air. You know the kind, they were the type as a kid you’d run around and try to catch on your tongue. So I stopped. And wondered. Have you ever really looked at those huge flakes falling on a winter day? There isn’t a sound to be heard, but the world is a constant slow motion film. It’s almost enough to make your legs feel heavy and really pushes your feet into the duff. I found a big spruce tree with a bare patch of thick needles under it and decided to just hunker till the weather broke. A small warming fire of dry spruce branches sent smoke up through the canopy, making the air become pungent with the smell of pine. I relaxed and did nothing but spend a little quiet time with the chickadees in the branches above me, simply watching it snow and thinking.

I recalled a winter snowshoe trip Zach and I took up to Stanley hot springs in the Lochsa country. It was snowing the same huge flakes and our tents were perched serenely beneath a Grand fir that must have had a four foot diameter. We sat silently in the shallow hot springs and became mesmerized by the same slow motion stillness that you really only see once in a while. After a cold night, I woke up in my tent and felt something moving under me! I batted around the floor of my tent and finally rousted a mouse that had cuddled up beside me, between my ground cloth and tent floor, just keeping warm. I remember him having long rear legs and he hopped off into the woods like a rabbit.


Zach in camp at Stanley hot springs

I threw another small stick on the fire and got lost deeper in thought. Thinking of that trip reminded me of Zach's close friend who recently passed away after a long fight with brain cancer. Now, I didn't know him, but from the photos of the adventures he and Zach had the last couple of years, he definitely didn't give up. It then occurred to me that a lot of people around here have been having health issues and/or have relatives with health issues; many of them terminal. Consequently, I’ve been thinking a lot about quality of life versus quantity of life. I read an article a while back that really got me thinking. Its main point was about “no code” and people having bracelets (or even tattoos) that indicate that person’s desire to NOT be resuscitated. The doctor writing it expressed what he and a lot of other doctors thought, “Why do people put themselves through such misery before they die?” Basically the thought is, rather than go through the trauma of surgery and drugs, to take yourself home and be able to live what little life you have left, comfortably. One doctor he spoke of was given the prognosis of imminent death, so he sold his practice and went to live with his brother. They enjoyed two months of fishing and screwing off until one night the doctor passed away silently in his sleep. The ultimate in Quality versus Quantity.

Death is a tough thing to accept, especially when it concerns you. I think this is because it’s just a great unknown and the underlying thought, for some, is that it’s just over. Everything stops. But with these thoughts in your mind you can start learning to appreciate things at a new level, hopefully before you reach that critical timeframe.

Now, I really don’t know what to think of death. I’m part scientist and part religious, so my thoughts bounce around continually. But I truly believe that if you are comfortable with it, then it will happen easily. I’d like to think it’s about the same as hibernation; you finally get the rest you desperately want, and then arise to a new world.

The warmth of the fire and the silent motion of the world around me are comforting as I feel my eyelids getting heavy. The chickadees sing soft songs above my head as I easily succumb to slumber. All of a sudden I’m walking up the creaky steps of the old Lochsa Lodge, standing only four feet tall. It’s dark outside, but the streetlamps glow off the three feet of snow on the ground and illuminate the sign to the right of the door that distinctly says, “No one under 21 allowed.” I open the door as if it’s my house and cruise into the dark, cozy interior. There’s a woodstove in the middle of the room, blazing happily, and a bar to the right with the adults laughing quietly. They all regard you as their kid and look after you accordingly; Powell was a small close-knit community. Despite the sign outside, you were welcome to come in and play the one video game in front of the window. The logs that made up the Lodge are that dark, resiny type that came from decades of wood and tobacco smoke. They hold the heat of the stove and are comfortable to lean against. Once I warm up a bit, I head past the pool table and through the kitchen / gift shop area to the restaurant. The tables in the restaurant are all made from one log apiece, cut in half lengthwise and bolted together. They too have the same dark exterior from being in that same place for years and worn smooth by countless patrons. There are 60 year old deer, elk, and moose mounts on the wall, put there by the people who built the Lodge from the ground up. I always become intrigued with the full raccoon mount, perched on a log underneath the black bear hide and beside the pine marten…I definitely have a thing for raccoons. I almost sit down near the huge hearth fireplace made from stones straight out of the Lochsa River down below and burning full rounds of Douglas-fir, but then choose the small table near the window. This spot has a great view of the mountains across the river, now obscured by the darkness. But the streetlamp placed above where the horseshoe pits are give me enough light to see the giant cedar trees in the yard. The table was unique as it only fit two and was made from a single burl, cut in half. I have fun sitting there; tracing the wood grain with my fingers. While I wait for the best curly fries I had ever eaten to come from the kitchen, I become mesmerized by the marble-sized snowflakes falling slowly from the sky.

Friday, February 10, 2012

Finally Catching Up

Humph, I sure am busy anymore. This time of year is usually pretty intense as everyone (else) comes back from their long Christmas vacations just raring to go. But that usually ends in January. We've had some changes in direction that has caused me a lot of work, but like always, everything else doesn't go away...so I end up just getting stressed out. But, it DOES make the time fly.

I DID get out ice fishing a couple times. It was relatively uneventful, but I did catch fish! Small perch, no keepers...but still. Since then I haven't really trusted the ice (even though "they" say it's safe) because of our warm, rainy days.

I've continued to shoot like crap this year at the trap range. It's all me, I can feel it. Last week our squad had the work detail, and either the other guys on our squad didn't show up or were too hung over to manage, so it was Rod and I doing all the work for 24 squads! We were on a constant rotating scoring session, and had OUR names down to shoot on the last squad before wobbles. Well, let's just say we were both scoring when they called us over and over and OVER on the loudspeaker. The other guys we were shooting with were getting annoyed, but no one was stepping up to relieve us. FINALLY some guy helped us out and we RAN to get our guns and shoot. Both of us shot like hell because we were pissed off, I even thought about shooting from the hip I was so angry. Through the 16s and the handicap I was missing nearly every bird, and could feel the guy to my right staring at me (I was obviously not aiming.) So on my last station of the handicap, I went ahead and shot all five and could see his mouth drop out of the corner of my eye. I never said a word, those little victories are fun. But, then we dropped our guns and ran back into the house to start scoring again. We gained a lot of respect from the old timers though, so that was good.

Ooh, I picked up a new gun the other day! There was a friend in need of money and had too much respect to just accept a gift, so I made him a deal. I told him I'd buy his .17 HMR for $100 under the stipulation that he could buy it back for $100 whenever he wanted. Knowing him, he probably won't want it back. AND, he just moved back to Washington, so he's not even in the area. Haven't shot it recently, but shot it with him this past summer. We got it so dialed in that I can hit the primer out of an empty shotgun shell at 50 yards! Pretty fun little single shot.

Boy, I'm drawing a blank and need to get going. Gonna take our retired flag down to the American Legion.

OH, almost forgot. I went on my snowmobile field test recertification this past Wednesday. That was a WELCOME break from the office and I got to get into the woods during the winter. From Mullan down to the Silver Dollar bar, then up over the Dominion loop, past the Haiwatha trail 2-mile tunnel, back to Taft, then up over Lookout pass to Mullan. Six hours on a sled is a long day, but it sure made me comfortable on them!


Andy's quote there was, "I'm done catting."


The entrance gate to the first Haiwatha tunnel


Spooky


On top of the Dominion loop


The mullan pass warming hut