The River Wild....and stupid

I neglected to recount the most memorable moment from last weekend's trip to Bozeman. It definitely deserves a mention.

Beth invited me river rafting with the wedding party last Friday. There were more than a dozen of us crammed into two rafts. It was without a doubt the best raft trip I've been on in terms of conditions. I was there right as the Gallatin River was near it's highest level of the year. But in terms of overall experience, it was one of my least favorite outdoor experiences.

Our two raft guides seemed pretty cool. They were your typical young, funny, care-free river guides. They did the things tour guides aren't supposed to do (like stopping at a local bridge so we could do backflips off it). I was having a good time with them and the rest of the group.

At one point, we were about ready to cross under a bridge. The other raft was in front of us but we were close behind. The guide in the first raft, Raleigh, decided to grab onto the bridge as they went beneath it. Keep in mind that the water was moving pretty swiftly. I literally had no time to react. I see him grab a hold of the bridge, swing out of his own raft and BAM!!!...we slam into him as he's hanging from the steel beam. His lower back knocks my head back. My helmet slammed into Aaron's (the groom that weekend) face. It's over in a second. Aaron has a bloody lip. And my eyeglasses are mangled. One lens is gone...and the rims are seriously bent.

Pissed....me.....off.

Those who know me know how blind I am. It was awful. I couldn't see for the rest of raft trip. By some miracle of God, I had an extra pair of glasses in my car.

Raleigh felt like an idiot. My raft guide was too dumbfounded to even know what to say. I was wondering what to do about my expensive glasses. I told the manager about it. He asked me how much they cost. I said $200. I think I lowballed him. But he was gracious enough to give me a check for that amount and I didn't pay for the rafting trip.

The End.

There and back again

I went back to Bozeman this past weekend for Beth's wedding. It was awesome. The weather was perfect. The setting was gorgeous. I was among good friends. Who could ask for anything more? This first picture is my absolute favorite photo from the weekend. Congratulations Beth & Aaron.

They got married in Big Sky, Montana (about 40 miles south of Bozeman) at the Soldier's Chapel. Take a look.

It's a beautiful old church that sits along Highway 191. The mountain in the back is Lone Peak...the bulk of Big Sky Ski Resort. You walk into the chapel and the view looks like this:

I've been to several weddings and this one was right near the top in terms of how beautiful it was. The reception was just down the road at Buck's T-4 Lodge. The food was good (including my 3 pieces of wedding cake) and the company was better. Suffice it to say....I had a very good time.

While Beth was preparing for her wedding, one of my other Bozeman news buddies (and Beth's co-worker) was preparing to say goodbye. Although we worked at different stations, my friend Alyson and I started in Bozeman at about the same time. Now, she's moving on. This was Friday night in the studio as her station aired a goodbye segment for her.

And this is Alyson and I dancing the night away at the wedding reception.

Good luck Alyson. I feel a little better now knowing I'm not the only one that's moved on from Bozeman.

That, of course, brings up a good point. This was first time back in Montana since I took the new job. I'm a pretty nostalgic guy. You'll often find me reflecting on the good times in life I've already experienced. It's no secret that many of those good times took place in Montana. I was a little unsure of how I'd react....in light of the skeptical nature I still have for Boise. But it was fine.

Just over two years ago, I was in the same position. I was returning to Glacier for the first time since getting my job in Bozeman. This is what I said about that experience:

"So I was a little nervous to go back. I expected something heart-wrenching. It didn't happen. I stared out over the waters of Swiftcurrent Lake and smiled. I was happy to be back. But something was different. I felt like a bit of an outsider. Normally that would dismay me. Glacier is "my park" after all. But then my intuition spoke loud and clear. "You feel like an outsider because you don't belong here. You've moved on."


I felt the exact same thing in Bozeman. It's funny how you simply have to go back to a place you once called home...to realize it's not home anymore. This is an extremely nerdy reference but does anyone remember what Frodo Baggins said at the end of "The Lord of the Rings?" In the movie, he says, "How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart you begin to understand there is no going back."


That resonates with me quite a bit. How do you go on? I think the answer is to embrace where you've gone or where you're going. I took a big step in doing that this weekend. I decided to take the scenic route home. I drove from Bozeman west to Butte and then southwest to the Big Hole Valley. It's an extremely remote part of southwest Montana. Then I crossed into Idaho and headed towards Salmon, Challis, Stanley, Idaho City, and finally to Boise. I've got one word to describe the drive. Wow! Truth be told, the Boise area is not the prettiest part of Idaho. I realized that soon after I arrived. Unfortunately, I think I let it color my opinion of Idaho as a whole. Not anymore. There are so many parts of this state that are simply stunning. Now I just need to get out and explore.


It was a good weekend. I saw old friends and discovered new places. It was the best of both worlds.

"It's Not What You Think"

Um...I have egg on my face.

Remember this post? I talked about how incredulous I was when a drunk couple hopped on to the elliptical trainers next to me at the gym. I mean who goes to the gym drunk?

Fast forward to this past week. I was at the gym with a co-worker. We finished doing our cardio workout and I hopped off, grabbed my open backpack off the floor and walked away. As I did, a miniature bottle of The Glenlivet whiskey fell out and hit the floor. I know people saw it. I know they knew what it was. Obviously embarassed, I quickly walked back, picked it up and got the hell out of there.

The explanation: Remember when I wore a kilt for the morning show back in April? That was sponsored by The Glenlivet? When they sent me the kilt, they included the little bottle of whiskey. I remember putting it in my backpack and I just forgot about it. I swear. I'm not a drunk. But I'm sure people at the gym thought I was a lush.

Home Sweet Home

I'm committed.

Although I could probably find another nice apartment with a cheaper rent...I've decided to forego the hassle of moving. I signed a 13-month lease at my current place. It really is a nice home for me. It's right along Boise's highly touted Greenbelt. I'm close to downtown. It's the perfect starting off point for a bike ride along the Boise River. It's a good place...and I'm gonna be here for a while. For anyone who cares (mostly mom) here are some pictures.

The view from my backdoor patio

The Boise River

A squirrel in the parking lot; that's water he's licking up...not oil or anti-freeze

A week ago, the inaugural Boise Ironman Triathlon swung through my neighborhood. A large section of the race took place on the Greenbelt. I walked out my door and took a few pictures of the racers.

I had really good timing too. I walked outside just in time to catch this guy...a racer...on camera. He was competing in a prisoner costume. How metaphorical.

Overall, I'm liking Boise. And I think I'm ready to like it more now that I'm firmly planted in a decent dwelling...at least for a while.