Mount St. Helens

My friend, Liz, and I used to laugh about how there was a big difference between someone who was outdoorsy and someone who was sporty. She spent her weekends in the mountains hiking, rock climbing, camping, etc. I spent mine playing 7 or 8 games of ultimate, showering, eating way too much at Olive Garden, and sleeping in a bed. Like I said in an earlier post…I’ve just never been a huge “outdoorsy” person.

So Avery called me a few months ago and asked if I wanted to “hike” Mount St. Helens with him, his friend Andy(by far Avery’s craziest friend, he lives for doing dangerous, flat out dumb things), and Andy’s mystery friend. He also said it could take up to 12 hours. To an outdoorsy person I’m sure that sounded like an awesome adventure. To me it sounded miserable, but for some reason I immediately said “yeah, of course.” I knew this trip was a time for me to step out of my comfort zone, and trust me the thought of this hike made me leap out of my comfort zone.

Needless to say, it was an experience like no other. Luckily we found out the normal time it took was actually only 6-9 hours, which made it feel like a much less daunting task. The first 45 mins to an hour was an easy stroll through the trees with patches of snow around us. I was thinking, “I got this shit.” However, once the trees broke we opened up to this gorgeous snow covered vertical climb. Seriously though, it became much less a hike and much more of snow/sand/rock climbing. To give you a better idea, there is an elevation change of 4500 feet on this 4.5 mile hike. AND the first 2 miles were an easy stroll. That’s a lot of feet with very little mileage. Oh, and did I mention that non-outdoorsy Lindsay was wearing old jeans and thrift store nike tennis shoes? Genius, right? The people we passed probably thought I was an idiot. They were all prepared with their hiking poles and crap.

Andy probably could’ve made it all the way to the summit in two and a half hours. If it weren’t for Andy’s mystery friend, Melissa, I don’t think I ever would’ve made it. However, after 4 hours, 100 bullet prayers, 500 thought cuss words, a feast of sandwiches, carrots, dried mangoes, and baked cheetos, a wonderfully distracting conversation with Melissa, and 4500 grueling feet we finally made it to the top. After Melissa walked right past the red warning flags out of excitement, we made our way to the side where we were able to look into the heart of the volcano. Unbelievable. There was steam coming out in various places, a beautiful lake right behind the crater, and Mount Ranier in the background. Words and pictures don’t even get close to giving it justice. It was truly breathtaking. We spent about 30 minutes giggling like little girls and taking an absurd amount of pictures. Then it hit me. How the hell are we going to get down this mountain? Melissa and I were hoping for a hot air balloon to come pick us up.

This is actually where the fun really began. After struggling to walk carefully down the snow-covered decline, Andy began leaping like Mario down the mountain. He seriously looked like a cartoon, but he was able to stay on his feet and moved down at a very rapid pace. Melissa, Avery, and I were not convinced we could move at such ease. However, we came across an even better way to get down the snow. Melissa slipped and fell and happened to slide a good distance down. That seemed much easier than my timid small steps/slides. I wrapped my rain jacket around my waist and just sat down… I literally flew down the mountain. Avery only had to save me from crashing into rocks once...

What took us three hours to climb only took one to descend. It was incredible!

Beloved Child

I'm going to take a step away from my adventures for a minute and possibly get too serious... If you're looking for a fun, easy blog just stop reading. I'll have another one of those up in a couple days.

I've been really challenged and encouraged by a song that I can't get out of my head. I thought maybe writing about it would help... I know it's corny, but it's a Colbie Caillat song called "It Stops Today."

"No, no, I don't want to break when I speak
I don't want to shake while I'm standing
I don't want to crawl into another hole
I don't know what I'm hiding for
No, I don't want to fall when I stand
I don't want to have to hold your hand
I just want to be the girl I use to be
when I was me and worry free
I know these burdens are my own

But I can't keep on running
No I just can't keep on running away from here
I know that the only way to be is to fight my every fear
I'm not going to make it 'til I turn
around and face it alone, I know
I can't just keep running, no I just
can't keep on running away
So it stops today

So here I am, I'm taking my first step
Thought I was losing balance but I caught myself
I kind of like the challenge, no I don't need help
I'm going to make it past the very start
it's always been my hardest part

But I'm going to stay in control
I must admit this crutch is getting old
I am going to throw it out of my hand
I'm finally here, I understand
I know I'll get there on my own

You can hide from all the pain
But it will find you anyway
Yes, I know, now I know"

I have this really bad habit of avoiding pain and numbing myself to every emotion. I'm not positive, but I think it started as early as middle school. I know it has had it's ups and downs, but mainly downs. This song has been really encouraging for me to face the crap I have done and been through in my life. If I keep running away I'll keep feeling empty. Part of my goal in coming out west is to be introspective. Since I numb myself to things, I truly don't think about my feelings, desires, etc very often. I feel like I've been living my life without my heart attached to me. I can't just keep running away from it, right? I'm ready to rely on the Lord and hopefully begin to treasure my heart along the way. I have felt more alive being on my own (relatively) out here than I have in a long time. Maybe ever. I love the line about liking the challenge. If you know me at all you know I have a slight competitive side. Okay, I can be ridiculously over-competitive. I need to be challenged and learn how to keep myself accountable. I can't always lean on other people and blame them when I don't keep up the things I set out to do.

Another quote that is extremely encouraging to me is this.... "falling in love doesn't begin with falling in love with others. it begins with falling in love with ourselves. loving ourselves is healthy and as God intended. learn to deeply and fully cherish your heart, your soul and your body and only then will you understand what it is to truly love another." I think we all need to be reminded of that from time to time. There is a balance of being selfish and taking care of yourself. Even when it may be selfish and hurt other people, if you know it's the best thing for you and your well-being then it is necessary. I suck at that, but can feel myself learning it more everyday. I love to love people, but I know I can't show them the love I am capable of until I can truly love myself. And most importantly who I am to the Lord. His Beloved Child. When I think about being his Beloved Child I can't help but be challenged to take care of my heart and use it for Him.

Yep, I needed to write all this out. Thanks.

Missoula freakin Montana

Katy had told me that everyone who comes to Missoula falls in love with it. My first night was great, but I was far from convinced. Yeah, it was gorgeous and the people seemed fine, but what's the big deal? Honestly, I can't put it into words. (Mainly because I suck at putting thoughts and feelings into words, good thing I have a communication studies degree...) But seriously, it is something that you have to experience for yourself. Here is my poor description of MY experience though...

I was fortunate enough to have Katy's sweet roommate (one of Destiny's best friends), Paige, to "babysit" me a couple days while Katy was at work. The first day we laid out by the beautiful river. Minus the rocky terrian, it was perfection: gorgeous scenery, wonderful honest conversation, and the warm Montana sun. The next day we hiked the famous M. At the top we were able to look out on the whole city of Missoula. Now, I'm not much of a hiker. Really I'm not huge on the outdoorsy stuff at all, but there is something about this place that forces you to appreciate it. It was so refreshing. After the hike we hit up a local brewery called Kettlehouse. I think this was the turning point that made me realize I was falling in love with this city. It had nothing to do with beer though (However, I did drink two beers, be proud).

A couple of my new ultimate friends were there and had made friends with this couple who was biking across the country. This is the stuff I just loved. My friends befriended these people and made them feel extremely welcome and comfortable. They made sure they had a place to stay, and my friend, Eric, even gave them contact info for his parents' house in Wisconsin in case they needed a place to crash. This is a simple thing, and I know plenty of people would offer to help, but most of us wouldn't befriend them in the first place. I know I wouldn't just start talking to a couple in a bar making sure they were taken care of in Memphis/Knoxville. It's just a different small town culture that really impressed me. But what was really unbelievable is how lucky I got... One of Paige's friends that she hadn't seen in weeks happened to be at Kettlehouse and they happened to start talking about how he was traveling to Portland on Thursday. Not to mention he hated to drive by himself and would be happy to drive someone for free... Hell yes. That sounded about 10 million times better than spending almost $200 and 20 hours for a bus and train ride back. As Katy said, "that's the kind of awesome shit that happens in this town."

The last day I was in town Paige went on a hike at 5am that I just couldn't bring myself to partake in. Luckily, Eric is working on his PhD and does it on his own time so he was able to be my babysitter for the day. We spent the early afternoon watching the kayak tournament that was happening in downtown Missoula. It was pretty incredible watching these people just throw their body and kayaks around on a man-made wave. If you want to see how awesome it really was check out Katy's blog.... http://katydidwhat-katydidwhat.blogspot.com/ where she posted a video.... However, that afternoon was possibly the best. Katy, Eric, Heather, two North Dakota guys (more guys that were just randomly befriended and invited on our adventure), and I climbed in a minivan with our tubes and a cooler full of beer. We drove a few miles and then hopped on our tubes in the beautiful river. We spent about 2 hours tubing down the river while sipping on some beer... or Mike's. :) That's a normal summer day in Missoula, MT. What the heck? I never wanted to leave.

My nights were exceptional too. We went to a minor league baseball game where we yelled "NUTS" approximately 2oo times. No, seriously we did. Apparently they were really pushing selling peanuts that night so the announcer yelled "PEA" and we had to reply by yelling "NUTS." "PEA, PEA, PEA!" "NUTS, NUTS, NUTS!" It was quite entertaining. The night ended with the most beautiful storm in the distant mountains right at sunset.

Katy wanted me to go out with a bang so my last night we went to karaoke at the Badlanders. Almost all of the ultimate team I played with the weekend before came, plus a few others. Maybe they just were desiring a night to make a fool out of themselves, but I was honored either way. It was pretty hilarious and a perfect end to a great week. My sweet Katy dedicated this song to me... absolutely beautiful, eh maybe just really sweet.





My dad said he is already looking for a plane ticket for me to come back to Missoula in February when it is bitterly cold and miserable. I know, I know. It's not always the dream city that I saw it to be, but regardless the community aspect is there. People genuinely care about other people. I don't think that changes with the season. But if you do ever visit Missoula make sure it is in later June or early July. I understand that is when it is the perfect weather and still very green.

"What are these things called kilometers?"

If you know anything about Katy Branston you know that Katy doesn't stop. So of course as soon as I get to Missoula Katy is ready to show me a good time. We spent the evening in downtown Missoula attempting to drink local beer(I stuck with bud light lime), hitting up local food vendors, listening to local music, so essentially soaking up the culture. We ended the night dancing until all my travels caught up with me, and I almost passed out on the dance floor.

I spent the next day sleeping and relaxing while Katy went to work and played with kids all day. Then we hopped in her car (yay automobile) and headed toward Revelstoke, BC. Katy was my inspiration to play ultimate frisbee so what would be a more perfect way to spend our weekend together than at an ultimate tournament in BC?! The drive there was unbelievable. The most beautiful scenery I have ever seen in my life. Not to mention we rocked out to Avril in honor of being in her homeland (poor Ryon who had to ride with us). Once it got dark and we still had 4 hours to drive on the winding roads in the mountains we decided to find a cheap hotel in Radium, BC. Ryon and I competed to see who could get the cheapest room in a strip of about 8 hotels... he turned on his charm and won by getting us a room for $65. Pretty impressive, huh? And oh what an awesome hotel it was... shag rug, 70s chandelier, and of course a bottle opener by the toilet. Once we settled in, we decided to check out the night life in Radium. We headed to the closest bar and they enjoyed a BC beer while I tried out a delicious Palm Bay vodka cooler. After trying to learn some Canadian lingo from the nicest bartender in the world, we had the privilege of witnessing a Canadian bar fight. Don't worry, they hugged it out in the end.

The next morning we grabbed a quick breakfast and continued our gorgeous drive to Revelstoke through Glacier National Park of Canada. We arrived at the fields just in time to stuff some food down our throats and start playing (492 mi/796 km, 9.5 hrs). If you never have experienced an ultimate tournament I highly recommend it. Now, don't get me wrong, I do not condone all of the activities involved, but it is an experience like no other. The actual game of ultimate is basically an afterthought to themed teams, crude cheers, after game spirit awards and activities, drinking, food, and of course the tournament party. As the only American team of the tournament we appropriately called our team South of the Border and not so appropriately dressed up in sombreros, fake mustaches, and panchos or plaid red shirts.

It didn't take long to warm up to my Missoulian teammates who welcomed me in by calling me Kristen (miscommunication that caused me to answer to a new name for almost a week) and serving me a frozen margarita by 2 o'clock in the afternoon. That's right, someone brought a gas powered blender to the fields. After waxing 4 teams and making 8 players play pin the tail on the donkey after taking a shot of tequila and being spun around we made our way to the indoor pool/slide/climbing wall/diving board. I haven't felt more like a kid in years. The evening consisted of Little Caesar's pizza (katy and I wouldn't have it any other way) and then dancing like a hippie at the Revelstoke music festival.

With a 9 and a half hour drive looming over us, Sunday was a little less exciting. We pulled out wins in the quarter and semi finals and then crumbled in the finals. I still have yet to win a freaking tournament. Katy and I recruited two of the other girls, Martha and Leah, to ride with us on the way back. We stayed entertained by chugging energy drinks, putting "Kristen" in the hot seat and asking her every question imaginable, eating everything in sight, and watching Super Troopers in the back seat. This was test two for my faith... Telling these girls my dad is a pastor at a mega-church in Memphis, TN and that I do think sex should be saved for marriage is like telling them I could shoot rockets out of elbows. They were anything but judgmental, but they asked some tough questions that made me question how well I really understood my own faith. You just don't think about these things when you live in the bible belt your whole life. In some ways it was very refreshing.

Planes, trains, and buses... automobiles come later.

What a rush. Let me start from the beginning.

Arriving in Portland was extremely exciting. (2,263 mi, 7 hrs) Destiny picked me up from the airport and we immediately drove to avery's work to bring him lunch (they do this every single day). It was a gorgeous day! 68 and sunny... quite different from the 98 and humid as crap that I am used to. I think I said "it feels amazing" approximately 40 times the first two days. After unpacking and repacking the next day I boarded an Amtrak train headed to Whitefish, MT. As soon as I boarded the train I knew I was in for an adventure. I walked in and a middle-aged woman who was, well I'll just put it nicely by saying she was homely, approached me and asked me to sit with her. I suppose I can be a pushover because I just smiled and sat next to her despite the 30 plus empty chairs around me. She proceeded to tell me how she gets nauseated and extremely anxious on trains. Perfect. Just what I was hoping for on a 14 hour ride... By the grace of God, I looked down at my ticket and saw that it had a different train number than hers and everyone else's around us. I made the excuse of going to ask the attendant and managed to find a seat all to myself as far away from her as possible. (call me a jerk, you know you would've done the same thing) After an hour and a half delay and reserving my two seats by faking sleep as another train transferred onto ours I finally started my trek to Missoula.


Now, I expected a peaceful ride of listening to my music and reading while sipping on the wine I hid in a water bottle, but luckily that was not the case. A 31 year old, already drunk lady wearing green way over-sized sunglasses, and the hairiest armpits ever sat across the aisle from me, but quickly headed to the lounge area once the bar opened. A 30 year old creepy man (Anthony) who brought his own bottle of vodka (which was quickly confiscated as he was giving 19 year olds shots), and wore a "trendy" grandpa hat to cover his balding head sat diagonally from me. Then there were the sweet and normal 18-20 (Lizzy, Jake, and Kevin) year olds around. Somehow we all started talking and laughing and getting to know each other. It's funny how God works. One of the things I've been challenging myself to do recently is more openly share my faith. He swung a door wide open for me on this train. Kevin came over to sit by me (mainly to make fun of how Anthony kept trying to hit on me) and we struck up a wonderful conversation. Without even meaning to I was pushed to talk about my faith. I don't know that I made a huge impact on Kevin, but he seemed intrigued and encouraged by what I had to say. I'll come back to this topic later on. Anyway, around 1am we arrived in Spokane, WA where everyone in our group except Anthony was getting off the train. However, Anthony and hairy armpit lady were singing and being belligerent right before we arrived and actually were kicked off the train in Spokane. It was kind of awesome.


This is where the journey to Missoula goes downhill... We were forced to transfer to buses in Spokane which meant attempting to get my night's sleep on a cramped bus. And this bus made young life and youth over night bus trips seem like a first class resort bus. We arrived in Whitefish around 730am, and I was plenty grouchy and greasy. Now, maybe you will consider this irresponsible, but I just think it was faith and spontaneity... I had no idea how I was going to get from Whitefish to Missoula. I found out there was a bus station about 20 minutes south of Whitefish that would put me on a bus to Missoula so I simply asked the bus drivers that were dropping us off in Whitefish where they were headed next. Conveniently enough they were headed south and graciously offered to take me to the bus station. So once in Kalispell, MT I spent an hour in the lobby of a super 8 waiting for the bus station to open and then 3 and a half more hours in the bus depot waiting to leave for Missoula. After another 3 hours in a bus finally I see this cute girl in a tie-dyed shirt and patagonia shorts jumping up and down as the bus pulls into the Missoula bus station. Ahhhhh.... Missoula, MT and my best friend in the world (736 mi, 22 hrs).

I definitely forgot to express how MAGNIFICENTLY BEAUTIFUL it was everywhere. It was awesome looking out at the Columbia River from the train. A beautiful river in front of snow-capped mountains. Breathtaking. The bus ride from Whitefish to Missoula was also gorgeous, but at that point I think I was more focused on getting off the freaking bus.