A Montana Journal

May, ca 2018 The trail today took us high into the Bitterroot Mountains  to explore territories heretofore unseen by this traveler’s eyes. As sun commence its obedient appearance, we began our wanderings on the Lost Horse trail, what leads a rider into deep, lush forest and does not cease from pushing skyward until mountain’s crest. The thaw has come to these northern parts and tho mountaintops are still covered in a snowy white and creeks are flowing frothy and fast, the track was passable into them high places.  The trail here is narrow and cut into steep slope of mountainside for its ascent, threatening rider and mount with disastrous tumble should misstep be made. But Ol’ Black Tahoe, my trusted steed, did not lose purchase as we clung close to mountain’s tall side. We made our way up through the Great Creator’s handiworks of nature, and eventually come to end point of our journey, that being Lake Como, what is tucked into them mountains and offers love...

Painted Rocks, Montana. April, ca 2018 I had me a friend onest. She was tall and handsome and her character sturdy. She weren’t a lover, but she was dearly loved. Is still, I reckon. I think on her from time to time. And so it was that she pressed heavy upon my heart as me and Ol’ Black Tahoe, my trusted steed, lit off into the high country this day. I can’t summon up why she rode with us, but nonetheless she was there in my thoughts. At dawn, we made our way south through the valley as the clouds come in covering mountain’s glory, yet kindly presented a loveliness all their own. We then rid up along the West Fork of the Bitterroot River to the place they call Painted Rocks. The mountainsides here are like a canvas what was delightfully touched with colors abundant, decorated with divine strokes of bright yellows and reds and greens and blues from the Great Creator’s palette. It steals the breath in the beholding of it. And it brings a pure pleasure to these eyes. Ri...