It All Started with a Florida Keys Kayaking Trip, and Sinking Boat.
A few weeks ago I found myself atop the ridge of a moody Sypes Canyon. It was grey out, and the wind was blowing hard with little specs of snow that felt sharp like sand when they pelted my bare legs. I don't yet have my mountain legs (I'm promised they're coming), so I was more trudging than "running" up this particularly punchy climb. When I got to the top I was completely alone, and not for the first time I wondered how I'd arrived in this wild place... alone. The woods, Montana woods specifically, but woods in general can get creepy when you're all by yourself. There are lots of times when I'm running in the Canyon and I dare myself to look back, waiting to see the mountain lion that nabbed a dog a few days ago only to realize I'd been tricked yet again by a squirrel which usually results in an embarrassing cirque du soleil routine landing flat on my face. Our brains are funny that way; squirrels become mountain lions, limpkins sound like ghos...
