The Hillside
With a little effort, you can find special moments of wonder. Climb higher than your worries and rest a while here on the hillside.
ADVENTURE ART CLUB | DAY 24 | 9.24
BLUE MOUNTAIN TRAIL SYSTEM
MISSOULA, MT
Today, we set off from the Blue Mountain trailhead to the Southeastern side of the tangled pathways, with the eventual goal of reaching a spot of peaceful reflection somewhere high above us. As we set off on the slight incline, Scout and I are greeted by views all around. The entire valley lays at our feet from this trail, right from the start. If you look closely, you can even see the slightest sliver of river reflecting blue sky as it winds its way through the valley floor. To our left, blue mountain and its low hills rise above us in shadow. We could climb high to the very top of this ridgeline from here, but I have somewhere else special in mind.
The path to the right of this trail system winds across open plains of gold grasses, through forests of pine filtering sunbeams, past aspen groves, then back up again through the grassland. Picture views of the mountains greet you as you cross trail junctions and make your way past massive pine trees that have stood the test of time. On our way, a black forest squirrel, barely afraid of us, chirps once or twice before claiming a nearby tree as a throne to survey us from as we walk past. Haughty and confident, it perches mere feet away. We keep going.
On our way, a black forest squirrel, barely afraid of us, chirps once or twice before claiming a nearby tree as a throne to survey us from as we walk past. Haughty and confident, it perches mere feet away. We keep going.
Eventually, I take a sharp left to start climbing straight up the hillside. Not for the faint of heart, this trail immediately challenges your fortitude. Step after step with a heavy pack, we climb, until, finally, the trail crests over a ridge and places us far from the valley floor and any people below. We find ourselves almost on the backside of the mountain. It’s quiet and calm here. A refuge.
Almost immediately, we spot a fallen tree that compels me to look closer.
Scout immediately climbs on top, making the tree his playground. I kneel on the ground and look closer at the sheer power displayed here. The tree’s roots, even once fallen, cling to huge rocks now torn from the earth in the violence of the tree’s falling. I can see the former power of this being in the rocks clutched between roots that have been split by the immense force of the life that once coursed through this tree’s limbs. Fallen, the sight of this being feels like coming across the body of a great fallen warrior. I bow my head a little before moving on.
The trail leads us around to the right and higher up to rejoin the other trails that I know will eventually connect us back to the valley floor. This is where I get off. I step off the trail and onto the grass to find a hillside that I know further along. From here, I can see the entire valley below us filtered through the reaching limbs of great pines close by. No one will find us here, I think. It’s a peaceful place to sit for a while and watch the light shift.
I set up my backpacking chair and start to draw as Scout settles into the tall grass nearby. At first, he seems content to lay there, but before long, he’s exploring and jumping with joy with some stick he found. Always close, I know I can focus on drawing. He’ll wait here for me for as long as I need.
I love this view. Seeing town from this perspective made me love Missoula when I first moved to the valley. I thought to myself, “As long as I have this wild playground, I can be happy.” That thought turned out to be true.
I love the drama of the light playing along the ridges of the mountains across from me. I love the delicate colors woven throughout the expanse. I love the contrast of near and far. I’d like to sit here and just read or draw for hours…
Yet, the light starts to fade as we rest here, so I decide to depart. Stepping over native bunch grasses to join the trail further along, I remember a hike I took somewhere nearby just after my first dog, Jax, unexpectedly passed away. I was thinking about him and wandering in the forest like I am now, and a great grey owl swooped down, seemingly out of nowhere, to land in the grass mere inches from me in broad daylight. In my experience, owls don’t like to be seen, but this huge being just sat on the grass and stared with its piercing gold eyes straight through the heart of me. Its gaze met mine for a long time, staring into the very depths of my soul, it seemed, before finally taking off. I had never seen a great grey owl before, and I have not seen one since. Today, I think of Jax again in silence. He’s always in my heart. I’ll always miss him.
Setting aside my remembering, I notice we’re almost to the return trail now. I happen to glance up from our descent, and there, perfectly placed just before us, I glimpse the moonrise.
Big and bold and brilliant, the almost full harvest moon hovers just above the land, purple with evening light. This unexpected sight of brilliance feels like a gift for choosing to be here, in this exact place, just at this moment. I marvel for a while at the sight before moving along, finally finding our way back to the grassland and home.
Love & Gratitude,
- Christina
