My lovely, ever patient wife went to town today. The mid morning sky was chromed in classic Montana blue as a summer breeze performed a Burlesque fan dance through the forest. She had some errands to run, and needed a well deserved break from her retired husband's manic rants. Not a quarter mile from our off-grid cabin, she witnessed a mountain lion take down a small Whitetail. The muscular cougar stretched across the gravel road, -seven feet whiskers to tail tip- caught the deer by the shoulder and snapped its neck. The attack was quick, efficient and both creatures disappeared before her SUV passed the spot where it happened. Nature is like that, succinct. My wife adjusted her sunglasses, checked all her mirrors and proceeded down the mountain. Four blind curves and two cutbacks later she watched as a towering Larch fell on top of a single-wide motorhome, crushing it into the ground. The huge conifer bounced two times before settling in a cloud of clay dust and pine needles. A lone man carrying a running chainsaw walked out of the brush and threw his hat on the ground. My wife shook her head, not bothering to stop and ask if he was alright. The smashed motorhome looked like a cross between an accordion and a bow tie. Today it was a motor home, tomorrow a pick-up truck. Those type of incidents happen all the time. The second most told story at Wednesday night bowling league only overshadowed by someone's latest hunting story. About a mile from the Teddy Roosevelt steel bridge, linking the East side of the Kootenai river to the West and connecting the forest to the town my pro-life sweetie swerved to avoid mashing a squirrel and blew a tire instead. After steering her SUV to the side of the road, and waiting for the gravel dust to settle, she got out and examined the tire. There's no cell phone reception in the mountains, even this close to town. The only reception spot is in the Southwest corner of the grocery store parking lot. My sure-to-be canonized spouse had to walk the last mile into town. Fortunately it was a beautiful day, sunny, warm but not hot and the forest smelled of wild flowers. She crossed the bridge, stopping momentarily to admire the emerald clarity of the river running beneath. The Kootenai “chameleons” from a milky jade to a deep jade in spring, transforming into a sparkling emerald in the summer and swirls into a deep serpentine green in the fall. The aesthetic never gets old. In town, positioning herself in the Southwest corner of the grocery store parking lot, my sweet love first called the tow service, TAZ towing, and Bobby the owner -a slight of build cartoon character- said he'd pick up the truck right after his lunch at Jacks diner, they were having his favorite, roast beef on toast, gravy and mashed potatoes. That announcement prompted tiny growls of hunger in my wife's stomach. Ignoring the pangs, she next phoned her friend and church buddy who lived south of town for a ride home. The woman said she'd be happy to pick my wife up at the store. With that confirmation, my resourceful honey proceeded inside for some grocery supplies. The check-out computer was down again so the cash registers had to be operated manually. A common occurrence for a technically challenged, small town. A half hour later she stood outside, a plastic bag in each hand and her saddlebag purse hung on her shoulder. Her ride back home was uneventful. Our bullmastiff Tassie raised her head off the couch and made a quiet chuff, and that's how I knew my wife had returned. I walked into the kitchen to refill my coffee cup as she entered the back door. “Hey hon, how was your foray to town?” She set the bags on the counter, dropped her purse on a chair by the door, then went to the glassware shelf and pulled down a cocktail glass. “What cha doin'” I asked, as it was not quiet our customary “booze O'clock” yet. “What does it look like I'm doing? You ask the stupidest questions sometimes.” “I dunno, we're out of vodka.” “Then give me the scotch.” I poured her two fingers and she made a casino Black Jack signal to hit her again. “I take it something happened?” “Nope.” she said taking her four fingers of scotch to her favorite recliner, “Everything was fine. Steins was having a 10lb meat sale.” I peaked out the backdoor window and noticed her truck missing and the taillights of her friends car headed down our long drive. I took a moment to study my wife's profile as she relaxed in her chair and sipping scotch. I admired the calm and content features of the woman who left the big city, learned to gut and dress livestock, qualify 98 out of a hundred target hits with a semi-automatic, garden and can everything from turnips to bear hump, take care of my parents, three dogs and a cat and still strong-arm me into marrying her after 20 years common law. I sipped my coffee and didn't ask anymore questions. I love my wife, she's a rock.
Memory: Light up the night photo advert. When I was in grade 11, far from my ass childhood, I was on the way home from light up the night. That would be my town welcoming of December. When I was just living I saw a pacticluar advert for a an art exhibition in a local gallery. It was about photos of Everest by A guy who died on the mountain. The next day I went to the exhibit and the kept returning because there was also a documentary about teaching the children in Nepal how to read which the guy was trying to do other then mountain. I would go there Every day after school and on weekends to see the exhibit, documentary and give all my weeks allowance which was $15 a weekend and when I did use my pocket change from lunch. These continued until the new year when the exhibit was over. Soon the gallery closedown but that exhibit as someone how is part Tibetan, and who wants to climb the same mountain too this memory has haunted me like a compassionate ghost.
Last night: Surprise Mountains. Last night I went my local library with my worker to hear a lecture what I though was about safari. It would have been good just like that but I go a peleasant big surprise... it wasn't to just about the safari but about Mount Kilimanjaro and high altitude mountaineering. I learn about the different classifications of mountains. There are high, high altitude, the sucker that I want climb, Everest was exstreme altitudes and the symptoms of others altitude sickness headed, not thinking straight, breathing problems and hallucinations (that one is a shocker but I am not a chicken.) during the whole time I never been so nuts and smiled so much in my life. For me I want to climb Everest for PTSD awareness and acceptance and K2 for cancer research (that one is my for my mother and father).
Thalay Valley is in Ghanche, Gilgit Baltistan, Pakistan, on the bank of Shyok River, The Shyok River meets Indus River at Keris about 30 kilometers west of Thalay. Thalay is 16 large and small mohallah: Daltir, Chundu, Tassu, Harangus, Parangghus, Haltagari, Yarkhur, Daltir, Gagurik, Baltoro, Burdas, etc. House Valley is to the east, Karis Valley to the west, Shiger Valley to the north and Daghini/Balghar are located to the south. Thalay Valley is 40km. away on the northwest from the district headquarters Ghanche (Gilgit Baltistan), and 110km from Skardu city and situated at 2,647m above sea level and falls in the single cropping zone. The main occupation is agriculture.