I put on a song that reminds me of home. and I get high. I get high on thinking about driving my truck over the mountains around ennis. living the nomad life style. I get so high on dreams of being there. running a river, clicking into my bindings, rallying on a mountain bike or hiking the distance. I get high on life.

as much as I really love finland and love my family, I can’t escape the fact that my heart belongs in montana. I am home sick. I miss Ennis like crazy.

finland is so beautiful. birds are singing, flowers are out. I set my track for a run and I breathe all this air that always smells the same. even years later, I took a long walk to downtown with Moose and marveled at how alike it could possibly smell. all these years later, 17 years later, spring smells the same. there’s a shit ton of birds chirping everywhere.

the thing that gets me about finland every time is the people. the general public has this general disposition of being shit heads and gloomy all the time. being assholes most of the time. it’s exhausting. this fear of judgement and thus relentless judgement of others. jealousy and envy of others success of happiness. sometimes I wanna scream.

this gets me high on life. reminds me what sets me on fire. makes me fall in love with life all over again. I look forward to being free, with dirt between my toes, sweat on my brow. when the sun is out, it feels weird being in finland. while my friends are getting various surgeries in montana fixing their broken skiing components, I am focusing on work. soon enough, I will fly back home.

the sound of sea gulls brings me home. reminds me of my childhood. I know most regard them with the same affection I have for magpies; obnoxious trash birds that should be shot and ran over every chance one gets. though I’ve caught their shit a time or two, still, after growing up in summer houses around Finland, they remind me of childhood. I love their squawking calls.

I clean up and put on a bra. I have finland clothes. this hotel has got my soul and has got me beat. I am a prisoner of sorts. perhaps a voluntary one but I am ready to give her hell. I am different here.

sometimes I think the hardest part in my relationships has been that most people have expected me to be constant, to stay the same every day. I believe every human has many different sides of who we are within us, they should be celebrated. but in some ways I think we are taught to be ashamed of them. I love being a chameleon and strongly influenced by my surroundings, therefore, I might be the same with one person, but different with another. am I rare in the sense that I want to cultivate all these sides of me?

am I different because I’ve never really found a way to do so in a relationship? to be free enough and allowed to do so by my partners. the downfall has been a combination of me not truly understanding myself, remembering to keep my doors open, coupled with my partners unrealistic expectation that I will, every day, remain the same person they got to know in a year or two. and in essence, always dating the wrong people. eventually I have ended up feeling suffocated and needed to burst out of the character I have been playing for whom ever I was with at the time. though I’ve never lied about who I am or never pretended to be someone I am not, when I’ve needed a change it has been met with resentment and fear.

it’s incredibly hard to find a balance in a relationship where you can hold on to these aspects of your identity, which I believe is a direct product of how society views partnerships. and in turn the expectation placed on us by our partners as whom we are supposed to be to them. just like having a need to spend time with friends from all aspects if life, I want to share my intimate life with a myriad of characters as well. why should this be limited only to my friendships?

I understand a lot of people want constant and fear change. but I never have, I have always been extremely bored whenever I reach status quo and rather than seeking to maintain it, I seek to destroy it.

change, by it’s organic nature arrives naturally and as I’ve finally understood; –in my life– inevitably. (more significantly at about two year intervals.)

so.

stay vibrant.

thrive.

portland. where they still put fresh flowers on the table in coffee shops. the gift shops and chick sports stores are filled with just the cutest darn things. I never notice how many things I have learned to live without in the back roads, dirt roads of montana. here I am over whelmed by the sheer quantity of choice. and the number of people, where you can park, camp and let your dog run around. I haven’t even made it to portland yet. I am lingering on the outskirts.

moose and I slept in the canopy for the first time. wish I had a paco pad, but damn I slept good. didn’t get up until around ten. the sun was up, the river was roaring and I enjoyed living this life again.

I took the long way here. wasn’t in any hurry. took the long way to missoula, through Virginia City and pipestone pass. kissing my good byes all the way out of the amazing state of montana. I may have cried a little when fan mountain and lone peak disappeared from the rearview mirror. spent a night with friends in missoula. wallowed in Wallace, ID, took a side road that led me to some radical abandoned mills, eery as fuck. what a strange place Wallace is. wanted to stop at the Old Mission Church, thought about praying, but blew by. made it to Hood River for dinner at the brewery.

here I am, in Oregon. I so don’t want to be, I am missing montana. I miss the peace and quiet of my home town. the cotton woods, gravel bar and gravel roads. I wanna go fishing.

today I fly over the divide. fly west. fly over the ocean. fly away home.

like migration patterns, we all scurry away as the season ends. in the past couple days I’ve had a hard time deciding which place is harder to leave. here or there. for the first time, I feel like I am saying goodbye to montana for a bit and it’s really hard and sad. I don’t want to leave. as little as 6 weeks, when I look around me, it feels like an eternity. when I return, life will be different. winter friends will switch to summer friends. skis will switch to mountain bikes, fishing rods and neoprene.

montana is stunning. more importantly the madison valley, jack creek road, beartrap canyon, norris pass and the plains are stunning. my life here is stunning. Ennis is stunning.

I am in love. I’m in awe over how much can change in a year. how much better everything can get. in previous years I haven’t had that many people to say goodbye to, or come back to in montana, but this time around I find myself saying goodbye to a lot of friends and finding myself missing them. missing our adventures together. so many to be had, so little time. so many invites I have to turn down. smith river with the yellowstone club ski patrol?? damn.

I took a last big sky ski day yesterday. skied the north summit solo. I stood there and stared down into the valley and felt dreadfully sad at the thought it would be another 9 months until I might be standing here again. I wanted to cry. as I skied around big sky yesterday, I ran into a lot of people I know and I was surprised to realize how many people I do know and how many know me. I never realize how many people see me when I am out skiing there. and recognize me. it’s damn near impossible to play hookie from ski patrol. everyone is watching.

I’ll miss the wolf pack. I’ll miss everyone. I’ll miss the skier girls of big sky and ripping the shit out of the mountain with them. if there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s ski. the funny thing about progression, is that you don’t notice it happening until one day you realize you’re there. something I didn’t realize was happening until I went skiing with some people I used to ski with, and found myself to be painfully faster and better than them. few folks ask me if I know/ski Marlee and when I tell them I do, people have gauged my skiing abilities based on that Marlee likes to ski me. fascinating.

my seasonal life is taking on another season. my life is so fucking fantastic!

love this life. the best life. bonfire life. love. love. love. time to get out of bed and pack my things into my truck. fly over the divide.