How Different It Was From Mine

Went hiking and  geocaching over the weekend.

Instead of using our snowshoes this time, we walked the snowy trail without them. We stayed on the main trail which was fairly well packed by previous hikers, (such as ourselves), and cross country skiers.  Snowshoes would have come in handy in a few spots, but we did just fine without them. People were out walking their dogs and enjoying the sunshine. As we were going up the trail, a gal with three Corgis was coming down. One of the dogs growled at me. It probably sensed that I don’t like Corgis…their legs are too short.

As in Aesop’s Fable, The North Wind and the Sun, the persistent heat of the sun warmed us and had us removing our jackets soon enough. We’ve acclimated to the colder climate of the Rockies. Hiking uphill heats us up and we break a sweat even when it’s cold. It was so hot, E said she felt sorry for me because I wore my long johns under my jeans. I responded that I should have worn my long johns under shorts. I saw a seasoned hiker doing this once and have wanted to do it ever since. Perhaps I will if I can get past the inevitable comment “Your underwear is sticking out”.

All of the talk about being hot reminded me of my granddaughter in Alaska who was excited to know that spring was coming. She knew she would feel warm even though it was still freezing outside…32 degrees feels mighty warm after a long cold winter. If you live in a cold climate, you know what I mean.

The warmth was soothing and Mallory couldn’t resist sunning herself on the picnic table at the top of the trail. I thought about telling her she would get a sunburn, but I didn’t. It was a peaceful time and we were quiet. Before leaving, it was a pleasure to discover a wild strawberry patch peeking through the snow under that same table.

 

Foys Lake
The picnic table

Our geocaching adventures took us downtown. We walked from home to 1st Avenue and began looking for the cache “Going Postal”, which is near the library. It was elusive and we couldn’t find it. I did find some tulip shoots coming up out of the dirt in a sidewalk flower bed. They were nice to see. I am looking forward to their brilliant colors.

We then walked to the intersection of Main St. and Idaho. Idaho is U.S. 2, the 2,579 mile east-west highway that crosses the northern part of the continental United States. Needless to say, a steady stream of cars and trucks passed as we searched the bushes next to the thrift store looking for the cache. Muggles were everywhere. David expected that someone he knew would see us. They probably did.

Official geocache in film canister.

A motorcycle rumbled by and I mentioned that it was a sure sign of spring. Just as robins return en masse, so do the motorcycles and tourists.

Kalispell was bustling. People were going to and fro…shopping…cleaning up their yards…riding bikes. There was an energy in the air. The revitalization of spring.

As I watched all of this springtime magic unfold, I couldn’t help but think of the dreadful weekend the Japanese were having…how unimaginably different it was from mine.

Marlene

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