8//26

Apparently, learning a lesson is one thing and knowing when to actually apply it is another (but nobody ever told me that, right).

“…if you start to lose your balance, and you’re worried you might fall, just loosen your grip and make sure you always keep moving forward; if you stop pedaling and overthink it, you might just hit the ground” became words that August made certain I ate like vegetables before dinner, or no dessert (a metaphor that doesn’t really apply to me since I was a picky eater growing up). Needless to say, I only got the message while pulling myself from the ground. Time to get back on the horse, I suppose…

I spent most this month embracing my inner dirtbag among the hills of Jackson Hole, WY; blasting down dirt roads, submerging my truck in mud, and camping wherever I could find level ground (so long as it had a good view).

Although I had plans to continue farther North earlier on, the sight of the Tetons stopped me in my tracks. I don’t normally like the idea of backtracking, but with plenty of biking/hiking to enjoy, I decided to stay still for a change.

Somehow staying still collided me with someone new – a person who I thought had exactly the spark I was looking for. As it turns out there are strict fire restrictions out West, so the flame extinguished quickly and things didn’t work out as I had hoped. Instead, I’m adding “heart” to the list of injuries this year (right after my humerus).

Not sure what recovery looks like for this one, but to help process, here’s a letter I wrote that never got delivered:

“Meeting you is like a rush of wind: sudden, unexpected, thrilling, and scary (at times) – you don’t know how powerful the rush will be or when it will end, and things could get knocked down in the process.”

“Or like a plunging into a cold river: jarring at first and alters your physical and mental state, but before you know it, it’s the only place you want to be.”

“Seeing you is like staring at the mountains: they’ve always existed, but you just noticed and now you can’t look away. They stare back. You feel both small and comforted at the same time. You can explore them like a maze.”

“Leaving you feels like a rodeo: violent, wild, and painful. Also, sometimes it smells like shit and there’s a clown involved. My mind is a cowboy and my heart is a wild horse. It’s over as quickly as it started, and I’ll never been the same after.”

“Either way it feels natural, but maybe we let nature run it’s course.”

Waiting for another door to open felt like agony, but after one impatient week holding my breath for a locksmith that never showed, a push forward to Montana turned out to be they key to success.

Around the same time, I got a few rolls of film back from my quick trip to Oregon – here are a few of my favs: