Over the weekend I had the privilege of attending the Women and Journalism Symposium annual CAMP in Whitefish Montana. I was surrounded by incredibly inspiring women from 6am, when I taught the early risers yoga class, till midnight when ladies gathered in the lodge bar, some in bathrobes others in suit jackets, talking about various importances in both realms: reporting and personal. On the last day of CAMP we had a few hours to spare, so a number of us drove into Glacier National Park. From the fall colored valley floor to the ragged pass dusted with hail, Glacier was breathtaking. It was the perfect ending to a weekend that reminded me of the vast possibility that exists before me in all things.
We came across these beauties on a jaunt up a windy mountain road on our way to Whitefish, Montana. They weren’t afraid of us. They stood proud on the freezing plateau between white mountains, reaching over the fence eagerly to the few carrots and apples we offered them. They were Majestic just like the land beneath them.
A few Weeks ago I went to Montana with JR and Dylan – two amazing pals. We were there for a wedding, but we meandered all around town and the surrounding wilderness. We drove up Bear Tooth Pass, over into Wyoming for a bit and stalked wild goats across the barely snowy mountainside. In the town of Red Lodge we found a really neat old photography shop and on the last day JR and I met some great old guys at an antique shop with 13 knife casses and a vintage gun room. It was my first time to the state, and I think I speak for the 3 of us when I say I’m going back.