Coming into our third week, there is no (required) rhythm to
our days. But there might just be a rhythm to our energy levels. We have busy
days, and then we have at least one stay-in-camp day. We didn’t respect this
need while we were at Ida Creek, and we both felt the lack. All the days were
busy days, some busier than others (e.g., roundtrips to Everett and 6.6-mile
hikes) but even the less busy ones had their share of stress. For example,
going to town for ice sounds like no big deal, but we find going to town exhausting,
even after so short a time out of the urban sphere. There are all these people and all this traffic. And town is usually hotter than the campgrounds we’ve
chosen.
But we resisted the need for stay-in-camp days at first. I
think we each have a voice in our heads that says, “You should be doing more,
going and seeing and experiencing.” But now, embarked upon our third week, we
have at last settled into that oft longed for state, Island Time. We love the
hikes, but we are happiest when we sit around our campsite doing just whatever
we want. Also, our stay-in-camp days are the days when we get the most writing
done, and that, after all, is our work now.
Our most recent busy day was a travel day, from upper
northeast Washington to upper northwest Montana. After an aborted run at
Glacier National Park – the eastern half of which is closed due to a scary
wildfire, and the western half of which is naturally suddenly twice as busy –
we used our handy camping guide to find and wind our way down the forest road
east of the Hungry Horse Reservoir, a massive lake behind a truly spectacular
dam, with a towering ravine on the down-river side of the dam. The
above-mentioned forest road takes you right over the top of the dam, a
breathtaking little ride over several speed bumps while keeping a nervous eye
on the massive dam-break alarms. It took some driving beyond the dam – about 15
miles on a nice paved road of varying widths – to find a campground with site availability,
but we lucked into a space – the last one – here at Lid Creek. The campground
is just up the bluff from the reservoir, with a steep boat launch and lots of
paths down to the shoreline. It’s very beautiful.
And here we have settled. We had big plans to go hiking out
of West Glacier, but instead we’ve spent the last two days very contentedly hanging out here in camp, writing and enjoying the
quiet and the lake. We both feel a little guilty about it but then ask
ourselves “Why?” This is what we came
for, following our own whims and figuring out who we are beyond the rat race.
The nights are still cool – Frank has finally given up on
blankets and instead adopted his cold-weather sleeping bag – but the days are
the hottest we’ve experienced aside from those first few hours at Icicle. We
don’t have a lot of shade in this spot when the sun is high overhead, so that’s
when we take our chairs and head down to the shade and breezes of the lake. But
the water is cold, perhaps a tetch
warmer than the Icicle River and the alpine lakes that feed it but still cold. Yesterday, the breeze was blowing
very well and very cool on wet skin, and I only made it in up to my waist.
Today, I managed an actual swim – full immersion, yay! – but kept it short and
was then too chilled to stay on the beach. Tradeoffs.
I am writing only in bursts but productive ones of about
2500 words each. It’s a pretty good pace really and possibly only the beginning
since it took me two weeks to have that first burst. Interestingly, I am not
working on any of the stories I have been nursing for years and instead keep spending
time on one that I started in a spontaneous pre-trip burst before we left home.
I’m puzzled about my choice to work on this one. I don’t know the characters, I
don’t know all the challenges they will face, and I don’t know how they will
resolve those challenges. But they’re leading me along anyway, and new side characters
introduce themselves to me each time I sit down to write. Maybe figuring all of
that out is what’s pulling me in, and it is certainly an interesting process to
see the life histories of my two main characters slowly emerge, seemingly
without much input from me.
The other attraction might be that I don’t care so very much
about this story. I can use it as training wheels and learn perhaps to actually
finish a novel, and then turn to the
ones I’m more passionate about. Or maybe I’ll work it for a while and then feel
ready to get to the “real” ones. I don’t know, and it’s all very interesting to
explore. I have a surprising lack of anxiety about any of it, just curiosity
and an uncharacteristic willingness to go with the flow.
The whole region is expecting a relative cold snap Monday or
Tuesday, with nighttime temperatures dropping into the 40s. We are not terribly
amused by this forecast. Maybe I’ll be adopting my cold-weather sleeping bag
too.
