river trip.

january. earlier this month, i packed my bags, borrowed a truck, and grabbed my red dog for a long weekend. i drove to the river, 4 hours away and 25 miles off an idaho backwoods highway. i had done my research, but no amount of research will tell you how far away from your destination you will get high centered by powder, stopped by a fallen tree, or mired in muck up to your axles. i had to plan for the worst. i packed a shovel and my courage, put on my big girl panties and off i went.

on my way, i stopped at my favorite local gas station for reinforcements, my favorite high school thrift store (closed on weekends, drat!), and the watering hole of my childhood. bertie guarded the truck while i climbed on to a barstool and ordered a Coors and a Jameson. at 1:00 in the afternoon, there was only one open seat. i drank for my homeboys, felt the heat from the woodstove on my back, admired the decor, and cautiously eavesdropped on the silver haired coat-wearing trump fan as he revealed the true motive of the insurgence at the capital. i cannot reveal details here, for fear of repercussion. i tipped big and snuck out the door to continue my journey.

bertie drove the remaining 40 miles to the front door without concern. it was the best part of the day. we passed nearly 100 elk, 2 bald eagles and dozens of deer. i quickly made a fire, turned on the gas lights and settled in as the sun went down.

for the next two days, i read, slept, ate and drank. bertie swam in the deep cold river and played outside for hours like it was a beautiful summer day. i read a whole book and thought about what i wanted my year to look like. the stars were magnificent.

it was a quiet weekend and exactly what i needed. sometimes we forget what we are made of, and need to test our own boundaries to refresh our own memories.

part of my hopes and plans for the year include a visit to the river every month. weather, be damned!

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