On the trail into the Medicine Lodge.

August, ca 2017
Bitterroot River.
Taking leave of high plains and buttes and Missouri River territories, I have of late made new homestead in mountainous region known as the Bitterroot Valley, where the lodge pole, green sage and rocky crevice give shelter to bear and elk and other wild critter. The Bitterroot River meanders lazily through this valley and I have in years past set my hook on many of its feisty trout. I intend surely to do more of the same in times coming. Though having traveled often these close surroundings, I find there are yet untold trail to be discovered and adventure to pursue. And such the reason why me and Ol’ Black Tahoe, my trusted steed, lit out this day under starlit sky to make our way down into the Medicine Lodge. 

We trailed south high up into the Bitterroots, and coming to mountain’s crest at the borderline of Idaho, we then pushed east keeping the Beaverhead ever forward of us. We took southerly direction at Wisdom and made way over the Big Hole Pass where brisk temperature, though no stranger to summer’s morning in these parts, met 36 degree. The chill set deep into the air even as the sun come up behind tall peaks when finally we reached the town of Dillon. Somewheres south of that settlement we found the Big Sheep, a wild and furious flowing creek that leads a traveler into the Medicine Lodge. 

It is a vast and open place here. Yet filled to the full with beauty abundant. Though no other soul was about, many the pronghorn and deer come to visit as we pushed onward into the territory. I paused along the Big Sheep with rod at the ready yet was unable to entice fish to fly; though it was not much the disappointment as I was busied by having breath taken from me while viewing the wonders that abound here.
Medicine Lodge.

There is always a calm and comfort to these backcountry wanderings, for I am more keenly aware of the One who made me, and these glorious landscapes. And, perhaps, like many, finding closeness to the Great Creator is also to find welcome distance from the self-inflicted wounds of living which lead to hearts that seem perpetually on the mend.

I have not died today. And that is a fine thing. Yours Truly…

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Image
A Montana Journal, ca. April 2021   Sun was already on the job and attending to daily duty when me and Ol’ Black Tahoe, my trusted steed, lit out north up the valley heading to the Missouri River. We has been a long time sitting still here at present homestead and was overjoyed to be wandering once again in these Northern territories. We pushed on past Missoula and then skirted east of the Rattlesnake to arrive at Bonner, what sets along the Blackfoot. We followed that lovely river for many a mile through canyon and cut along steep and well-treed mountain. We was pleasantly rewarded time and again with wonderous sights of them Rocky Mountains covered in snowy loveliness.  Pressing ever onwards, we come to Lincoln, Montana, what was made famous by some angry feller who’d send explosive parcels via the US Postal Service, stealing health and happiness and life itself from other souls. He and his anger reside now, and rightly so, at some federal penitentiary. Coming out of that sp...
Read more
Image
A Montana Journal, ca July 2020 The air was a fine 48-degree and the dark morning sky cloudless and speckled with a swarm of stars as we lit off north through the valley. It were quite the impressive lightshow to precede sun’s participation in the day coming. Me and Ol’ Black Tahoe, my trusted steed, was heading up toward the Hellgate and then taking westerly track to the settlement of Superior. The path ahead was one I’d never afore traveled, which would regularly be reason enough to make the trip. Yet as calm is a commodity hard to come by these days, I was hoping there’d be ample trail to ride in high solitude to secure a small portion of that. After our arrival at Superior, we took off south and also heavenward into the Clearwater. The North Fork of the Clearwater River rambles on through this territory and we aimed to find and follow it far as fortitude would allow. We come into these mountains making our way for many a mile along the Trout Creek, so we knew we was on proper cours...
Read more
Image
  A Montana Journal, ca December 2024 It’s snowing here in the territories. The trees what reside near to this place are covered with them falling crystals, dressed for the season by the Great Creator’s own hand. Me and Ol’ Black Tahoe, my trusted steed will remain tucked in and warm. We are grateful today for the comforts of camp, and also for news of a brother soon to make homestead here in Montana. He come to visit these few days past, and so arrives again with the spring. His camp will be on mountainside, in the high places, to live among the elk and bear, the lion and the fox. It was quite the trail what led him here, the Creator’s handiwork and perfect timing surely at play. He will live but a short ride from my valley home, and my daughters, many miles distant, will be joyful to know family is near. I have often reminded those caring children that the One who rides with me has made good company these many years and never failed to keep me safe and content in His promises. Ye...
Read more