Turning seasons turning wildly away,
morning’s majestic calm unfolds.
Out in spring clothes,
I roam eastern fields.
Lingering clouds sweep mountains clean.
Gossamer mist blurs open skies.
And soon, feeling south winds,
young grain ripples like wings.
– T’ao Ch’ien, translated by David Hilton’s in Mountain Home
On the path
The train arrives Whitefish early Tuesday morning and after preloading my bicycle I wader Whitefish for some time, see what’s changed sine 2012. It’s gown but all the things I really recall are still here. A lot more tourists then in early June. It is easy to get on the trail from here; I don’t linger long.
The first day on the Great Divide Trail, which I’m joining mid-route, happens to be pretty straightforward. Down a long valley, with just some token gravel roads through fields of hay. But an imposing and intriguing ridgeline runs along the valley and as the trail turns into the foothills it becomes more scenic. Rain off and on today, but always followed by sun to dry you off.
I turn off route to Flathead Lake, the largest in MT, for a state park camping outside the tourist town of Bigfork. A lot of other tourons there, riding the Divide. Not really in the zone yet, tomorrow the path turns into the mountains.
dripping though shreds
soft warm rain