Stanley, Idaho Sawtooth Mtns. Range

The mountains are astounding, stuttering to my feet as I make my way into Stanley. Impressed, I had to stop and just talk softly to myself,"It has all been worth it." A prayer turned inward and out. I have been told that so many places would show the hand of God, the beauty of creation. Finally I see the truth and words are not enough. I remember a young man biking across a few western states that I shared camp with in Lander, WY. He told me that he broke into tears when he peddled through the Grand Tetons and I internally rolled my eyes. Now I understand. Stone has been filed worked by the hand of God into teeth chewing curtains of snow biting up at the sky; shadows and highlights of eagles and the frozen waves of oceans born onto stone. For no apparent reason the lodge poles fall off my cart...poles that have just come through weeks of climbing mountains now for no reasons release themselves from binding of buckles and rawhide. Sometimes I am reminded to stop and be where I am. No leaving. No arriving. Just now. Just here. Gathering up my gypsy parts of my trovois I look up at the Sawtooth Mtns. and just stop.
In a small pub, in this small town (population 100) I milk a Sweetgrass brew with a new friend that saw me walking through the endless canyons into town and saddled me to an offer of a beer and a seat free of ponderosa pine needles. I will be alone again too soon. Conversation has become too rare. There will be other libraries I can rush into before doors lock for the day. Chuck pulls out his wireless laptop computer and the urgent need to be elsewhere evaporates.
My food sack is pushing the seams after living for days on remnants and spice. This store I was desperate for. Nothing lies ahead. Nothing is to the rear. What does exist is in the process of nailing plywood over glass. Closed for the season. Tonight I will sleep out here in these cutting mountains heady with snow. All urgency has been striped away. This morning it was 9 degrees in my tent. Some things I can't out walk.