Driving westward. I just can't get over how big everything is -- check out the tractor in the field for scale.
Driving westward. I just can't get over how big everything is -- check out the tractor in the field for scale.
Georgetown Lake, still driving.
Still Georgetown Lake, still driving.
Edith Lake (Lake Edith?) -- after a day of backpacking, our (backup) destination. I love how the landscape reflects off the still water.
Edith, farther down the same treeline.
Edith, still farther down.
Mike, prepping his Swiss Army lanyard for flyfishing.
Edith drains snowmelt from these mountains. This is the mouth of the lake, the start of the downhill rapids going to another lake further down.
Another angle from the mouth of the lake.
Trey fishing from the bank.
Mike mid-cast.
Mike mid-cast again, more context.
Resident pyros Bob G. and TJ beating a fire out of wet wood while Mike cleans a couple rainbows in the lake.
The sun came out!
Capturing the brilliant sunny symmetry while it's still there.
For some reason, I woke up before anybody else the next morning and went for a walk along the lake. More than worth a few minutes of sleep.
The dead wood collecting at the mouth of the lake.
More dead wood up on the bank. Perhaps "went for a walk" would be better phrased "climbed over fallen trees".
A little way down into the stream that drains Edith, looking back up at the lake.
On the other side, looking down the stream. The snowline was low for the time of year, part of the reason we stopped at Edith instead of venturing on.
At the mouth, mist rising over the lake. One of the moments that makes me think morning people are onto something.
At times, "taking a walk" can be translated as "trying to step on the stable rocks, preferably without moss".
Self portrait, woods background. I took three shots like this, but spared you the serial killer and the caffeinated clown.
Self-portrait, lake background. I like this one better.
Marvel at my skill holding the camera at arm's length!
Ignore the six deleted attempts to get this right!
TJ on the hike out, the path crossing the side of the mountain.
Same place as the last one, looking to the left. You can't feel it, but there's a lot of empty space out there...
Trey on the path, trying to contain his enthusiasm.
One of the mountain streams carrying snowmelt. This one has a nice footbridge spanning it -- hence the pictures.
Yeah, there's the bridge.
And there's Mike on the bridge, videotaping the rushing water. It really is quite something...
Bob G. pondering the nature of existence.
Me on the bridge, sucking in my gut.
Where we were. Or, "we're almost there, right?"
Storm clouds over the hills between the ranch and Philipsburg.
Same thing -- I can't get over how big everything is and how far you can see.
And again...
Love the layers of misty hills going back.
One of the perspective things I like -- this is normal life for a lot (well, some) people, in the middle of natural beauty that we drive eighteen hours to experience.
Philipsburg, once a silver mining town, now home to a host of knick-knack shops and a damned fine candy shop.
I'm a sucker for roads through all this stuff, too. Storm clouds driving from Missoula back to the ranch.
"Don't fence me in."
Possibly my favorite shot. Note the bullet holes in the sign restricting access.
Views like this are why I'm glad I don't have to drive on these outings.
The ranch on Rock Creek. More normal life amid the natural wonder.
The ranch, looking left from the same spot.
Mike and Bob G. at the bunkhouse, on vacation.
On the road home, right before my battery died. Not sure whether this was in eastern Montana or western North Dakota, not sure it matters.
