Baggy Sweaters

Fall has come to Bozeman in expected montana fashion- accompanied by serious wind! The air has a permanent chill to it and the leaves are vacating trees like they’ve got an eviction notice. This means it’s time for Baggy Sweaters. The Baggy Sweater phenomenon is one I look forward to every year. For a short time before temperatures drop too low and snow flies, Baggy Sweaters are permissible and even acceptable fall fashion. The shapelessness is accentuated by varying levels of chunky knit and quirky fall color palates, so each one is different. It’s important to have a few. I have several, including some in mustard yellow, cardinal red, and forest green.

Baggy Sweaters can be worn with leggings, jeans, or depending on sweater length and the wearers bravado, nothing at all. Some people do not like Baggy Sweaters. These naysayers are often firmly planted in the Flannel camp. Flannels, while not an unreasonable piece of fall attire, are just not the same. They have buttons, collars to maintain, sleeves to roll, and almost always require the wearing of a real bra. Baggy Sweaters would never demand so much.

Now- you might be thinking that there is time for this type of apparel in the spring. You would be wrong. By the time April rolls around these parts, everyone is so desperate to bare their skin to the sun and get some much needed vitamin D that they skip straight from thermal underwear to shorts. Baggy Sweaters have no place in the land of anticipated summer.

Baggy Sweater Season is short. Soon, the need for a real coat will become inevitable, and it’s hard to fit the Baggy Sweater underneath a more fashionable Patagonia puffer jacket. Back they go into their storage bin until the next year!

Being Different

There is something so comforting about sinking into the monotony of daily life. It happens slowly, without immediate consequence. Wake up, go to work, eat a mediocre lunch, head home, watch tv. Go to bed too late, look at your phone for a few minutes too long even though you know the blue light from the screen is bad for your eyes. Toss and turn, finally settle, sleep. Repeat. Eventually, what seems comfortable will become confining, and a need for change presents itself, but it’s harder than one would think to be different.

Yesterday, it dawned on me. I haven’t left Bozeman, I mean really left, in over a month. Sure, I drive over to the local ski hill, famously 16 miles north of town, and get some release from the grasp of the working world as I carve and tumble down the slopes of Bridger. Unfortunately this too, while usually exciting, can get tiresome. There is no escape from the Bozemanites who can sometimes wear on your patience, and always provide a show whilst parallel parking. I haven’t left the comfort of the concrete sidewalks in the city or the paved streets that have finally started to lose their snowpack, and I didn’t even notice until time and stress reminded me that sometimes you have to unwind and escape.

First, I asked myself “What is it that keeps me from leaving the confines of the Gallatin valley?” Then, I asked myself “When did I start seeing the valley as a confining space instead of the sprawling country that it is in the first place?” It’s less about the distance I put between myself and city center than about changing surroundings from grey to green, yet I worry that this place is getting small even as my hiking boots sit on the mat outside my door, collecting dust.  It’s not the place, I’ve realized. The valley is as beautiful as ever, with endless drainages to explore, peaks to summit, and streams to meander with. It’s the constraints that I have placed, at least in some capacity, on myself. Any given day, there is not enough daylight, I tell myself. Or the wind is too bitter, or my muscles too sore, or the temptation of sharing a brewskie with my friends too strong. I work too many hours. I have a home to clean. The excuses are plenty, and my boots are buried under pairs of heels, flats, and booties that are suited only for the office.

It’s easy to forget that just because the wilds are out there doesn’t mean that you reap their benefits simply from being in close proximity. I know that the mountains are always waiting with open trails and a guarantee of inspiration and rejuvenation. It’s a matter of actively being different.

We Live in a Beautiful World

It’s March, and so begins my 9^th month living here in Beautiful Bozeman, MT. My new home, much like virtually any other location, has flaws, if you’re really looking. The housing market for renters is dismal at best, traffic feels like you’re in a city of 100,000 instead of 45,000, Glass isn’t recyclable, and nobody knows how to parallel park. On a very fundamental level, there are some issues that need to be taken care of here.

On the other hand, my city has many resources that most others don’t. In regard to city planning, some projects were done right, such as creating fairly pedestrian friendly and very bike friendly roads and sidewalks. The public library is LEED certified and a fantastic resource for citizens and guests of all ages. The main street downtown is historic and quaint, and reserved mostly for privately owned local businesses, yet we have access to some big box stores if we drive down 19^th, though given the traffic situation that may not be in anyone’s best interest.

Taken in Downtown Bozeman early October

The area is a nature lovers utopia as well (The surrounding area isn’t called Paradise Valley for nothing). We are encompassed by national forests and mountain ranges that yield a majestic view from anywhere in town any time of day and are easily accessible for the hardy spirits who partake in outdoor activities. There are rivers and streams that dawdle through the city in the late summer and fall months, and roar in the spring when the snow melt begins, only to settle down enough in high summer for floaters and fishermen alike.

The community itself is vivacious and jubilant; at any given time someone is celebrating something, music is almost always floating out of some hole in the wall or another, and you can always stop in to imbibe somewhere, as beverages of all types are in no shortage here. Coffee, cocktails, milkshakes, brews, wine, and even bubble tea have their place in Downtown Bozeman. It’s a pretty great place to be.

So why is it that amid all of this greatness, natural and man made, we continue to complain about the difficulty of everyday life? How does a low phone battery elicit irritation, when it’s providing an opportunity to look up and around instead of down? People spend more time looking at a 4 inch screen than a 20 mile long mountain range, and hear more text alerts than the actual twittering of magpies and waxwings. The sound of a new Instagram notification is more alluring than the subdued silence after new snowfall, and a “Stunning performance on American Idol: You Won’t Believe Your Ears!” is more awe inspiring than Laney Lou & the Bird Dogs fiddling up a storm for couples twirling across an impromptu sidewalk-turned-dance floor. Too often it seems we make mountains out of molehills in our lives, and the real mountains sit in dignified, unremembered silence, waiting patiently for us to look up and acknowledge their constant, comfortable presence.

Boiling River after Sunset in Yellowstone National Park

As daylight is once again reaching into time the winter night claimed as its own, I think it’s time to stop hibernating in my apartment binge watching Canadian TV shows and eating Spaghettios. It’s time to mosey on over to the library after work, have a coffee and enjoy the presence of humanity. It’s time to hike up into the snowy, muddy hills and catch a glimpse of the ground squirrels; a nuisance yet also an irreplaceable piece of the landscape. Don’t take for granted the beauty of what surrounds you if you only take a second to stretch up your neck and look. Technology will, presumably, always be here, and I promise the “Top 10 Things That Can Kill You” Aren’t as deadly as never truly knowing what there is beyond your screen.

Early winter in Montana

Officially, the first day of winter is the 21^st of December, only a few days away! I’ve been hearing the laments of my east coast friends and family over the lack of snow and abundance of warm albeit rainy days that held off so kindly during the beautiful fall months only to overwhelm the December calendar. In fact, as I prepare to travel home for the holidays (!) I’ve kept a vigilant watch over the weather for Connecticut, and I’ve seen nothing below 50 and nothing drier than a 40% chance of light drizzle. Super. Not many things are greater than waking up on Christmas morning in my snuggly flannel sheets and oversized ugly Santa nighty and peeking out my window to see a glorious vista of snow blanketing the ground and clinging to tree branches and swirling through the crisp air and sticking to the windowpanes in a silvery frost. The most I can hope for this Christmas is that my Mother allows me to vigorously hole punch lots of scrap paper then ceremoniously dump it over the balcony in an attempt to recreate “Marshmallow World” in our living room.

 

That being said, Bozeman, MT has gotten plenty of snow already. It is currently Day three of an inconsistent yet considerable pattern of snow fall. The clouds spit snow in an on-again off-again manner, not unlike that of a relationship sparked on tinder. The sky has been varying shades of grey during the day, and at night the heavens seem to open up with an otherworldly glow as a result of the moonlight reflecting through the snow laden clouds and light pollution reflecting off the snow. It’s less glamorous when I acknowledge the second part, but that’s not to say it doesn’t create a lovely effect.   Thank you Wikipedia for teaching me about Albedo! https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Albedo. Anyways, I grew up in a place where snow was expected between the months of November and March, and sometimes gave us the gift of showing up early and lingering a little too late. I learned to drive in snow in my not so trusty Toyota Tacoma (Lots of love, Little Greenie), and I’ve been in more snow fort building contests/ snowball fights to count. I thought I knew what I was in for moving to a place famous for the snow and rugged conditions.

There are a few key differences, however, between my beloved east coast, and the rugged landscape amidst the Rockies.

1. The weather channel doesn’t care.

   

   Me and my trout friend on Thanksgiving Eve. That’s 4 degrees Fahrenheit!

   Sure, if you google the weather, it will tell you your area has a 100% chance of snow for the next 7 weeks and the temperature isn’t going to be above 10, but that doesn’t mean anyone Is actively talking about it. From what I’ve heard, the weather predictions are so inconsistent in the mountains that people just rely on what they can see, and that means heading to work at 8:00 AM in a light flurry, and possibly driving home at 5:30 PM in 2 feet of pow pow. Which brings me to …

2. People have weird slang
   
   Words like “Dank”, “Gnar” and “Pow Pow” Are spoken on the reg when you’re wandering around down town, and while I sort of wish I was privy to the level of local you have to be to use such lingo, I’m kind of okay with being an outsider on this one.
3. Pavement is a thing of the past

   Once the first snow falls, it’s pretty unlikely that you will see the glorious, high friction coefficient pavement that states outside the Northwest take for granted during the winter months. Going on 5 days now, my street has been a lovely combination of ice, slush and snow, and it’s always a fun time guessing what consistency I will be battling during any given time of the day. I’m starting to understand why certain cultures have many different words for snow, because the possibilities are effectively endless when it comes to type, temp, texture, etc. My favorite part about this new semi-permanent white road covering is that nobody else seems to notice or care that there is now a 60% chance that without notice, your brakes and tires just won’t do their job appropriately. People follow close behind me with chagrin as I bravely navigate my street 10 MPH below the speed limit. Which is fine, I just don’t have thousands of dollars to through around with whimsy like everyone else apparently does.

4. Boots

   Everyone has fancy stylish and functional winter boots here. It’s not uncommon to see them anywhere, including fancy dinner, in the gym, around the workplace, in the grocery, you name it. Because I thought I was tougher than the Montana Winter, I wore flats to work one day. One. Day. I almost lost 3 toes. Its not just a mountain fashion thing, it’s a necessity. I sprung for some toasty lace up Keen boots (Made in America!) and I haven’t looked back. They’re great. I’ll admit it- I’ve worn them at work all day- more than once. Nothing is better than cozy toes, and nothing is worse than frozen feet. (Ok, there are probably worse things, and better things, but relative to feet I can’t be too far off.) Oh, and Ugg people? Stay away. Your weird fuzzy ankle coats are not going to do anything good here. (Tom Brady, you can still visit.)

5. Daylight

   I go to work at 8 AM in the dark and return home at 5:30 PMin the dark. It’s kind of sad. I make sure to get out of my office at least once a day so I can at least see the sun (or where it is supposed to be). I will defend this dismal schedule with the counter argument of summer hours, during which the sun rises before 6:00 and sets after 9:30. I also live in the southern part of the state, so things could be much worse. I can’t imagine living somewhere where the sun doesn’t come out for months at a time!

This is only the beginning of winter, and while some of it is different, I am attempting to take it all in with an open mind. As my boss so perfectly puts it, it takes a year of ‘orientation’ to get used to working a job, getting through all the different sports seasons and cycles of marketing and fundraising, and I suspect its much the same for assimilating to the cycle of seasons here in the gorgeous Gallatin Valley.

Hyalite Reservoir in the Gallatin National Forest

Merry Christmas & Happy New years! Heads up- Next time I post it will probably be from an airport! I’m headed home for the first time in 6 months!

Eastern Foliage Vs Western Sunshine

New England, my home turf and stomping grounds for the first 24 years of my life, is famous for a good number of people, places, inventions and what have you. The land is rich with historical events and homesteads, from the old lighthouses you can spot all along coastal Maine to the Mark Twain house in Hartford, Connecticut, and all of the gorgeous old buildings and winding streets that make up the beloved city of Boston, Massachusetts. Each of the six states that makes up New England has its own claims to fame that draw tourists from around the globe (I’m looking at you, Ben & Jerry’s Ice Cream Factory, Waterbury, VT) But they also all share one universal draw that is especially unique- Fall Foliage.

Ask any native New Englander where the best fall foliage is, and I guarantee they will swear by a specific hike, time of day, weather condition, that will produce the absolute best swatch of golds, reds, ambers, and burnt oranges swirling in the breeze, clinging to their respective branches, and catching the sunlight just right. It is quite a spectacle, standing with the crisp autumn air teasing the red out of your cheeks, the strong October sunshine toasting your back, and the crunch of fresh fallen oak, maple, and birch leaves beneath your boots. And the truth is, it doesn’t really matter where you go in the Northeast- the foliage is beautiful pretty much everywhere. I lived in Springfield, MA, a notoriously urban, poor city, and the trees still managed to wave their bright, cheery fall glow effortlessly above the rooftops and cracked, broken sidewalks of the derelict city, giving a cheery feel if only for a few weeks. I have heard Route 100 in Vermont is especially lovely, although I can’t speak from experience.

Taken in Treetop Park, Springfield MA. Insert an Iced Pumpkin Latte from Dunkin, a good book, and a blanket, and you’ll have set the scene.

Here is the problem I have with all the glory given to my home grounds. I have been spoiled. My entire life, I have looked forward to gusty Septembers, vibrant Octobers, and Chilly Novembers. I have even embraced the fact that once it’s fall, you will need a jacket, hat and gloves in the morning, a tee shirt, shorts and flip flops in the early afternoon, and 6 blankets to sleep with at night. And now, here I am, in the middle of the North Western States, and I am sorely missing my fall weather. People who are Natives to south western Montana assure me that the ‘ber’ months are lovely out here, and they aren’t wrong, per say, they just aren’t as justified as I am when I say I know what autumn should look like. The trees here do turn, but the deciduous foliage is primarily made up of Aspen and Chokeberry, which fade into a bright yellow, then swirl in the streets. The evergreen population overpowers the landscape though, and the resulting effect is spots of yellow in a sea of green.

Taken in Downtown Bozeman early October

Already some of the trees are bare, and the streets are lined with the resulting leaves, but the crunch is somehow less satisfying. Hikes are beautiful, but the view is still obstructed by tall, spindly Lodgepole pines, dense spruces, and firs. I will say this- Montana deserves credit for its seemingly endless sunshine and warmth that has continued through September and well into October. More often than not, fall days in New england were windy, rainy and cold. Here, that doesn’t seem to be the case. That could be due to El Niño but don’t quote me on it! Either way, I am experiencing a new set of seasons, so be on the look out for potential winter laments! (I’m staying positive though, I’m confident in my abilities to navigate the Montana winters. I’m a stalwart New Englander!) If anything, the change in location has taught me to appreciate my home, and I’ve realized now more than ever how lucky I have been to grow up in such a unique place.

Do you have any thoughts on foliage, fall, or comments on different regions in the States or world? Share below!