Podunk Meets Paradise

Musings from Central Idaho

Archive for the tag “Continental Divide Trail”

Podunk Goes Multimedia

I talked some friends into letting me be a guest podcaster for their new OutLandIsh series. I’ve listened to podcasts and they sometimes sound like journalism, a sport that I like. I will say that if you had told me when I was in college that radio journalism was going to be the thing, I would have made a snorting noise or maybe even actually snorted. We all had a crush on Edward R. Murrow, but really, radio?

outlandish_dark400aBut it is a thing, and my OutLandIsh friends were killing it. And they were gracious enough to let me give it a whirl. Liz gave me a walkie talkie-looking contraption and in May I scampered down to New Mexico to check out the part of the Continental Divide Trail that wasn’t under 6 feet of snow. I got some great interviews, and I was pretty excited to be branching out into a new medium.

Then the pain and suffering began. The process to get the audio recording from my walkie-talkie into the sound editing program required uploading the audio to “The Creative Cloud.” I now think of the Creative Cloud as more of a Creative Mirage, whereby you think you uploaded your audio but when you try to show it to someone else, they put their hand on your head like you have a fever. The Creative Cloud is Satan.

menacing cloud

What the Creative Cloud looks like while it is digesting your podcast.

My friend Rachel had clearly lost a bet in a drinking game and was assigned to be my editor. I called her on a Sunday morning, waking her with a salute of “This F—ing Sucks!” She tried to soothe me. “This work is really demoralizing. I can tell you that your experience is normal, at least as far as I can tell.” I was not soothed.

After several seances, calling on the mercy of the spirit world, the Creative Cloud and Satan finally belched up my podcast. I think I’ll stick to good ol’ pen and paper, thank you very much, but you’re welcome to listen to the devil’s work if you like.



Choosing a title for this post made me nervous, but I can’t afford a headline writer so there we go. If you found this post doing an internet search you shouldn’t have been doing, your bad. I’m writing about Butte, Montana.

The thing is, Iron Chef and I travel to Butte on a fairly regular basis because our kids are hockey players and Butte has an ice rink. So we mostly see this feature of Butte:

The Ice Rink at Butte

The Ice Rink at Butte

But now that Her Royal Highness is 17, I drop her ass off at the rink and find a little fun for myself. For you overprotective parents, that’s not selfish, that’s good planning. Which is how I found the Maud Canyon loop and put the Butte back in Butteful.

Now I get to see a Butte that looks like this:

Hey, Butte looks pretty good from up here.

Hey, Butte looks pretty good from up here.

Better yet, this trail teased me with a sign estimating the Continental Divide Trail — Podunk’s soft spot — was just a mere 1.5 miles away. I checked the clock on my fablet, did some quick calculations, and decided I could make it, at least to put my baby toe on the CDT.

The trail was fabulous, the aspen had turned all kinds of crazy colors, and my spirits were soaring until the Fablet communicated a text from HRH. “Come get me in like 20 minutes.” Drat!

Maud Canyon trail in Butte.

Maud Canyon trail in Butte.

I had to break my “No Running” rule which complicated my “No Deodorant” rule, but I made it to the rink in time for Her Royal Highness to be 20 minutes late. Whew!

Distracted from the CDT — Again

I want to be writing about the awesome Continental Divide Trail, but between a twisted hail storm beating the crap out of my home and garden and having 2 teenagers, I keep getting distracted. Maybe we’ll talk about the hail storm later, but for now — share my terror.
Her Royal Highness just gave Odd Number driving lessons.
Ty driving This is truly terrifying. When HRH first started driving, I shared some of my angst with you all. But I had to stop writing about it because it was giving me a nervous condition. Put it simply, HRH does not have a knack for this driving shit. In other parts of her life, she seems coordinated and fairly bright. Not so behind the wheel. I have let friends and bystanders know that if they see our car, they should follow the same protocol as encountering an emergency vehicle — pull over to the side of the road and  let the mutha pass.

I admit I had hopes for Odd. He seems interested in safety and caution. He seems respectful of laws, including the law of physics. But when he chose to take a practice run around the block with his sister, my hope started to fade.

Thanks to the frackers, I’ve completely given up on promises of peak oil and world petroleum shortages. It won’t happen in time to help me.

The worst of it … my hairdresser — the woman who knows what color of brunette I  truly should be — just moved.

The Continental Divide Trail is (mostly) non-motorized.

CDT Travels

Her Royal Highness hiked with me, and I think she liked it.

I’ve been accused — falsely — of being obsessed with the Continental Divide Trail. The truth is, the Trail might be obsessed with me because it beckons me all the time. Perched smugly on the spiny back of the Beaverheads, the hint of trail there is one of the first things I imagine to see every morning.

So when Lucy, mini-Lucy, HRH and I hiked a CDT section going north from Bannack Pass recently, I was thrilled.

And HRH, assisted by legs a full foot longer than anyone else in the group, hiked cheerfully along. We saw a young elk in velvet, a dazzling array of wildflowers, expansive vistas, and really, really old trees.

In my giddiness, I pushed my luck.

“You like this, don’t you?” I prompted.

HRH takes on granddad Doug Fir

HRH takes on granddad Doug Fir

“Yeah, I guess. It would be better, you know, if we were hiking to something cool, like a lake or something.”

But she didn’t say mall. She might have thought mall, but she didn’t say mall. Note to self: find lake.

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