Cunning criminals

While we were away in Maine, first at the cabin and then visiting the Adelson clan, our friends Joanna and Balboa, who were on a roadtrip from SF, broke into our house. It took them all of five minutes. A true indicator of small-town living, my biggest concern about the whole escapade was that Joanna and Balboa introduce themselves to our neighbors before they broke in since Bob and Bernice would definitely notice the highly suspicious preschool teacher and musician camped out in our driveway.

Courtesy of the cunning criminals, we arrived home at midnight to a handmade card, a Farmer's market cherry pie, a pint of Three Twins ice-cream, and the promise of seeing Joanna, (Zoey's beloved babysitter and teacher for years,) and her kind and hilarious man, in the morning.

What a treat, and a needed one as our trip home took 15 hours and we lost our car in the parking lot at the Bozeman airport. It might have helped if we were looking for the right car. Somehow, both of us thought we'd driven Chris' truck, but in fact, our delirious 4:30 am dash to the airport a week and a half prior was conducted in my easily overlooked grey mobile, which we eventually discovered. At least we're used to laughing at ourselves.

My Wednesday morning wake-up call came far too early in the form of a well-slept Zoey leaping on me at 5:30. Seems that falling asleep in a time zone and a state far far away did her right. I was so bleary that I spooned a heaping scoop of salt, rather than sugar, into my coffee. With the help of a cherry pie breakfast, I resurrected and managed to have a fine day lolling around with Joanna and Balboa,  including a leisurely bike ride, a lunchtime performance of Jawbone Junction, and a dip in Bozeman creek.

Zoey, Joanna, and Stella

Balboa.

 
By Thursday morning, our ambitions —and our taste for adventure — heightened and we made our way to Fairy lake, where Chris planned to fish and Joanna, Balboa and I aimed to summit Sacagawea peak, the highest point in the Bridger mountains.

(Sacagawea was the heroic and legendary native American woman who guided Lewis and Clark from North Dakota to the Pacific ocean, including through the Bozeman pass, which many believe should have been named for her.)

I hoofed it up the 2000+ feet to the peak with Zoey on my back and Joanna at my side, the three of us admiring Balboa from an ever-increasing distance. The guy can hike.

Joana and Zoey fueling up for the hike

The scree expanse leading to the top. So hard to capture the scale - it's big!

I would have been figuratively blown-over by the spectacular view from the top if I wasn't so busy being literally blown to the ground by the fierce wind. Zoey's hollering and my efforts to stay vertical superceded my intention to snap some photos, so I've borrowed some images from bigwampum.blogspot.com to give a sense of the intimidatingly beautiful scene.

The view from the top towards the Crazy mountains.

View from the top over towards the Madison range - Bozeman is just above the first dark peak on the right.

The ridge.

The hike along the ridge. (We didn't do this part.)

On our walk down the mountain, both Zoey and I were longing for gloves. Though it's still warm, I can feel the cold sneaking in around the corner.