Why worry now

Baby, I see this world has made you sad

Some people can be bad

The things they do, the things they say

But baby, I’ll wipe away those bitter tears

I’ll chase away those restless fears

And turn your blue skies into gray

Why worry

There should be laughter after pain

There should be sunshine after rain

These things have always been the same

So why worry now

Why worry now

Why worry now

These words are from a Dire Straits song I really like. About worrying, that worthless emotion. The one that can make you ill!

Why is this matter significant to me today? It stems from an incident involving my son’s bicycle ride. He utilized his Garmin device to track his location. Still, unfortunately, it ceased monitoring at the exact location in Colorado where, last year, I was less than one minute behind a bicyclist who tragically lost his life on that very curve. The memory of that destroyed bicycle and the blood on the road still haunts me, causing me to experience recurring nightmares.

The situation caused me to experience anxiety, panic, and shortness of breath, accompanied by chest pains. I anxiously monitored the screen, hoping that the device would resume its function. The intensity of my worry was overwhelming. I promptly called my son to inquire about his well-being, and he responded with anger, instructing me to contact him urgently. While the initial wave of worry subsided, allowing me to regain my composure, he remained visibly upset and angry.

In the midst of excessive worry, I experienced heightened anxiety to the extent of panic. I am susceptible to feelings of impending doom or unrealistic fears that exacerbate my concerns. I am highly attuned to my surroundings. Worry is an inherent human trait that affects each individual differently, with some experiencing it more intensely than others. I identify as a chronic worrier, as I tend to worry, particularly when an issue appears to have far-reaching consequences.

While I am aware that worrying will not alleviate my depression, there are instances when irrational worries can hinder rational thought. When I delve beneath the surface of worry and analyze the underlying reasons for this emotion, I discover justifiable explanations.

For instance, I envision the worst-case scenarios to ensure preparedness when they materialize. While I acknowledge the consensus among experts regarding the efficacy of positive thinking, there are instances when my mind conjures up worst-case scenarios and devises strategies to address them should they occur. This type of contemplation is not detrimental as long as I refrain from obsessing over potential outcomes due to my proactive approach of planning and preparing for the worst-case scenarios. Consequently, even if the worst-case scenario does not materialize, I am well-equipped to handle the situation effectively.

Conversely, if the worst-case scenario does not transpire, as I had anticipated, it serves as a cause for celebration. One aspect of my mind holds the belief that none of these scenarios will ever materialize if I meticulously consider every conceivable negative outcome. This is the reason why my worst-case scenarios often exhibit heightened sentiment and drama compared to actual life. If one envisions a scenario and it does not materialize, it is a sufficient reason to express gratitude and experience profound relief.

A significant aspect of my personality is my tendency to dwell on and regret past events. My family and friends often remark, “I told you so,” when my dire predictions prove accurate. Occasionally, I find myself unable to resist this inclination, as I am only human. Achieving complete freedom from worry would require the patience and acceptance of an ideal saint. While I allow myself to worry for a period over matters beyond my control, such as the passing of a close friend from cancer or the tragic death of another on a bicycle ride, I tend to express my distress through excessive worry and tears. This is primarily due to the profound sense of helplessness and the inherent nature of this incurable and morbid disease.

Despite the debilitating nature of worry, which depletes my resources, there are instances when I am overcome by fear despite my best efforts to maintain composure in the face of adversity. However, the distinguishing factor between positive individuals and those who succumb to a form of depression due to excessive worry lies in their ability to discern and adhere to appropriate boundaries.

Unfortunately, I am losing focus on this boundary, but I am hopeful that I will be able to maintain my composure.

Carry on my friends, carry on!

Comments from my original blog - I merged the blogs.

wildknits

Sorry to hear that worry (anxiety) seems to be getting the best of you!  I understand the desire to "plan for the worst". It can serve a purpose (one of the projects I worked on during my senior year of nursing school was disaster planning for my county in case of Avian influenza hit).   That said, it can be taken to the extreme and become overwhelming in day-to-day life.   Knowing your son was near a place where you witnessed a tragedy/experienced trauma is sure to be a trigger for anxiety.  I hope you are looking into working with someone to help you manage your anxiety, depression and stress. There is no reason to suffer through this stuff alone.   Saturday, October 1, 2016 at 7:48:41 PM CDT

Last post of this trip

On a day forecasted to be rainy throughout the vicinity of Glacier National Park, we were reluctant to endure another soggy, cold day enveloped in fog. Consequently, we opted to remain closer to our cabin. Prior to departing, Londell dedicated some time to composing the blog post. He appears quite comfortable! Shelley subsequently contributed her creative commentary before we proceeded to the Cabin Office (the sole establishment with Wi-Fi access) to finalize this post.

Following the completion of the blog post, we resolved that it was opportune for Shelley to fulfill her aspiration of cycling through Big Sky Country. Consequently, we ventured to Wheaton’s in Kalispell, Montana, to procure bicycles. Margaret, the proprietor of Wheaton’s, is the sister of one of Shelley’s clientele. Upon learning of our excursion to the Kalispell region, her customer promptly made a call to reserve bicycles at Margaret’s establishment. However, we initially paused for breakfast in Bigfork. We had discovered a suitable establishment using GPS (SportThyme), but upon passing Pocket Stone Café, we deemed it an even better choice. It was evident that his establishment would be exceptional, as at 10:00 AM on a weekday, every table was occupied, and a waiting list was in place. Fortunately, the wait was less than five minutes, as Shelley was experiencing fatigue. The menu appeared delectable.

Shelley selected a hearty rendition of oatmeal known as Montana Mash. Thickly rolled oats were complemented by cranberries, raisins, chopped pecans, cinnamon, nutmeg, and a generous amount of vanilla. While Shelley typically dislikes vanilla, the menu description likened the Mash to an oatmeal raisin cookie, prompting her to give it a try. It is served with brown sugar (optional) and half-and-half on the side. Naturally, Shelley consumed all of the Half and Half and discarded the brown sugar. Londell, on the other hand, relished the Western Scramble accompanied by a substantial biscuit. 

Upon our arrival at Wheaton’s Cycle in Kalispell, just before noon. The shop is owned by the sister of a client Shelley has back in Minnesota. We were promptly provided with Hybrid bikes equipped with shocks. Shelley and Margaret had an opportunity to engage in conversation, and we departed by 12:30 PM. The Great Northern Historic Trail of Northwest Montana is one of the Rails-to-Trails bike paths. This trail extended from Kalispell to Kila, Montana, spanning approximately 9 miles. 

The initial half-mile of the trail was situated within the town, and we nearly overlooked the trailhead. However, upon a second inspection, we discovered it near the railroad tracks, as expected.  Although it was evident that Londell was rather grumpy about the heavy headwind, he kindly kept his grumpiness at a moderate level as Shelley was enjoying the ride.  It was a mix of scenic portions with wonderful mountain vista views, and riding immediately next to the busy highway. Shelley ignored the highway and focused on the vast ranches of cattle and horses grazing throughout the valley as well as the surrounding mountains.  As we neared Kila, Shelley biked on toward the town while Londell slowly fought the wind.  Shelley, being smaller, had the advantage, as there was less impact from the wind.

On our return journey to Kalispell, we noticed the trail had likely been uphill, as our ride was swift and favorable. The vintage Texaco station sign and pumps evoked nostalgia, suggesting they were last used in the late 1960s. Despite a slight mist, we stayed dry. We’d become accustomed to damp conditions and made the most of them. The inconvenience was quickly resolved. We returned by 2:30 PM.

As the weather was unpredictable, we decided to embark on a trip to Polson, Montana, approximately 60 miles south of Flathead Lake. During our drive, we began to comprehend the sheer magnitude of Flathead Lake. It was almost reminiscent of the North Shore Drive along Lake Superior, but with larger, pine-covered mountains. The lake was massive and breathtaking, to put it mildly.

However, one downside to Montana highways is the overwhelming presence of billboards. Despite the stunning beauty of the landscape, these billboards are an eyesore. Nevertheless, Shelley spotted one that read “Three Dog Down, Down Outlet, Polson” and requested a quick stop. As we were casually shopping, this man walked in, singing in a magnificent baritone voice. He immediately inquired if I had been offered a bottle of water. Apparently, every customer who enters the store is supposed to receive a bottle of water. We later discovered that he was Bob, the store owner. After providing us with the water, he invited us and another couple in the store to attend a 4-minute performance in the world’s smallest theater. Given his engaging and eccentric nature, we couldn’t resist. We followed him to the back of the store, where a small room was set up as a theater, which he affectionately called The Butte Room.

His first story centered around the founder of the Columbia Gardens in Butte, Montana.

Then, he picked up his 100-year-old accordion and serenaded the audience with a beautiful song about a man and a woman who met and shared their lives until their deaths. The song began with a joyful depiction of their meeting and dancing, but it ended on a somber note, as the woman lay on her bed, unable to move and yearning for the dance they had once shared.

After the show, Shelley and Bob engaged in a sincere conversation about his early career in opera singing. There was no doubt that he could have been an opera star with his rich baritone voice, still robust at his age (approx 66). He was quite the performer.

After such wonderful hospitality, we began exploring the options for pillows and comforters. We were both super curious to learn about the difference in down density! When Shelley mentioned that she wanted a down pillow, Bob had her try out the pillow-testing bed. Shelley took turns testing 10 pillows with different loft levels, and through a fun process of elimination, she picked her favorite. Shelley had mentioned to Londell earlier that she thought his restless nights might be because of his pillows. So, naturally, Shelley insisted Londell try them all too, and he picked his favorite. How sweet is that—early birthday present!

Bob asked Londell if he liked Ginger Ale. Londell replied that he liked it but preferred Root Beer and shared his Root Beer rating blog. Delighted, Bob opened a bottle of Blenheim Ginger Ale. Londell made Shelley taste it first, and she exclaimed, “Whew, that cleared my sinuses.” Londell cautiously tried it and found it delightful despite the Ginger heat. It’s not a beverage he’d long to have, but he’d enjoy sipping it. We’ll see if this sparks Londell’s interest in rating Ginger Ales.

Bob gave Shelley a thermometer, which explains the origin of his store name. He said the Alaskan Indians used the number of dogs needed to keep a room warm to describe the cold. Three dogs are needed for the coldest Alaskan nights, so the name Three Dog Down was born.

After 90 minutes, we left with bamboo sheets, a summer comforter, a duvet cover pattern, two down pillows, and a story to share on our blog.

Upon departing the store, we embarked on a brief drive through Polson. The town presented a relatively straightforward landscape, with tourism serving as its primary economic driver. For our evening meal, we opted to have our picnic lunch at a park situated on the lake. As for dessert, our goal was to find a Huckleberry pie. Despite encountering several establishments that had closed for the season, we eventually discovered an establishment named Betty’s Diner. The diner was adorned with a striking pink exterior and was surrounded by hanging baskets of cascading flowers. We procured a Huckleberry shake and a slice of Blueberry Pie for our journey. (Although we were somewhat disappointed that they did not offer Huckleberry Pie, we accepted the situation.) 

As we retraced our steps toward our cabin, the heavens commenced a tumultuous dance of deepening gray hues. Simultaneously, the winds unleashed colossal white caps upon the lake’s surface. Subsequently, the skies parted, allowing torrential rain to pour down as we navigated our return journey. 

Day 6

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We were planning to leave the cabin bright and early, hoping for better weather at Logan Pass. We got up at 6:15 AM and packed up, which was about half an hour earlier than we’d planned. Shelley was already up and ready to go, which was a surprise! Londell was thrilled. We were on our way by 7:15 AM, which was quite an accomplishment.

Shelley made oatmeal to keep us going until we could eat at The Glacier Highland Restaurant, which is just off Highway 2 near the park entrance at West Glacier. We had a wonderful time dining there on Sunday. Owner-operated restaurants have a special vibe that you can’t find anywhere else.

The drive to Logan Pass was a mix of weather conditions, leaving us uncertain about what to expect. We arrived at the restaurant at 8:00 AM. As usual, the food was delicious, but it became evident that exceptional service significantly enhances the dining experience and fosters a desire to return. Today, however, the waitress’s monotone demeanor, lack of smile, and apparent disdain for her job were noticeable. Despite the uninspiring staff, Shelley savored her eggs and bacon, complemented by a larger pancake, Huckleberry Style. Londell opted for his traditional two eggs, hash browns, and toast.

It was 8:45 AM when we embarked on our journey to Logan Pass. As we traveled, we encountered dense fog, reducing visibility to less than 100 feet at times. This was on the narrow, cliff-side Going to the Sun Road, with the cliffs looming on Shelley’s side of the car. Determined not to give up, we decided to continue our journey.

At Logan Pass, the fog persisted, as depicted in the image below. Undeterred, we set off on the 3-mile hike to Hidden Lake. Along the way, we paused to capture the breathtaking beauty of the mountain pass. A riot of yellow flowers, resembling miniature black-eyed Susans, carpeted the Alpine meadow, while occasional purple and coral wildflowers added delightful accents. Even the occasional slush made the wooden stairs challenging.

Weather was less than sightseeing worthy	Fog moves out

Fog moves in	Slippery boardwalk
Small stream 0.7 miles on Hidden Lake route

 

We ventured out on a 1.1-mile hike in the midst of sleet, which was driving and painful when it hit our faces. The fog added to the challenge, making us realize that Hidden Lake was determined to remain hidden. As we descended the trail, we returned to the Logan Pass parking lot drenched and shivering.

Determined to escape the cold, we decided to drive down the mountain and explore the 2.4-mile John’s Lake loop near Lake McDonald. As we reached the bottom, the sun briefly peeked through the clouds. We took a break, had a snack, and prepared for the hike ahead.

The first part of the hike led us deep into a lush forest. We were captivated by the diverse array of trees, including towering Cedars and Hemlocks, as well as a mix of Spruce, Firs, and other pines that formed a dense canopy below. The forest floor was covered in an abundance of mosses, showcasing a spectrum of green hues. There was a deliberate effort to regenerate the forest, as many of the fallen trees appeared to have been cut cleanly. This area was experiencing rapid growth, yet it also symbolized a profound rebirth.

Rebirth

This serene trail offered us the opportunity to capture some photographs. While some of the images were simply amusing, others resulted in blurred pictures due to the movement of individuals. Please find several photographs below.

Slow shutter, we were to stand still	Slow shutter, we were to stand still, again
It worked; we stood still

After approximately a mile, we arrived at McDonald Creek Falls. This was a beautiful cascade of falls that we had heard about long before reaching them. The trail marker informed us that this was a shared trail with horses. It was clear that horses had the right of way. We encountered around 10 people riding horses and managed to capture a photo of them crossing the bridge.

McDonald Falls	McDonald Falls
McDonald Falls	McDonald Falls

 

Fly fisherman at Lake McDonald

Near the trial’s conclusion, we were once again met with rain. We also encountered a few fly fishermen heading out to the creek’s mouth. Although they were quite a distance away, Shelley managed to spot them with her binoculars. She was delighted to witness the elegance of their casting technique. The fisherman had waded out to the lake in rubber hip waders. They kindly invited Shelley to join them, but the prospect of hiking boots getting soaked in Alpine waters was not appealing.

At 4:15 p.m., we exited the trial and headed back to the cabin.  It was pouring rain AGAIN!  This trip would not be complete without a stop at the local mercantile and grocer.  Londell found a great book that was excerpts from journals of the Old West.  We picked up some great salads and a steak (with Huckleberry BBQ Sauce).  We arrived back at the cabin before 6:00 PM and began dinner.  It was nice to get back early and rest.  

Great rib-eye steak made better with the sauce

We are both tired, yet long to get back out there in the morning!  Shelley found her cozy spot.  

Carry on my friends, carry on!

Day 5

Logan Pass Parking Lot - Peak of the Continental Divide

We both slept soundly and awoke at 8:00 AM Mountain Time. We were apprehensive about missing breakfast, but we discovered that it was served until 10:00 AM. Fortunately, Shelley could not miss her oatmeal. The scrambled eggs and sausage were also good. Londell commenced working on the Monday Blog entry and began a load of laundry while Shelley prepared for the day. Although the weather forecast was not particularly favorable, we decided to proceed toward Glacier.

We arrived at Logan Pass at 12:30 PM. Despite the sign indicating that the parking lot was full, we managed to secure a spot. However, our stay was brief as the temperature dropped to the 40s and it began to rain. We opted to drive Going-to-the-Sun East, which would entail driving the entire road.

After approximately an hour, we discovered several trails off St. Mary’s Lake. We embarked on a hiking excursion and were rewarded with breathtaking views and vibrant wildflowers. This side of the park was unfortunately affected by a forest fire in the previous two years. The charred, needle-less pine trunks continue to dominate the lush, young, and vivid green pine seedlings, creating a striking contrast. The glacier is undergoing a remarkable transformation, a testament to its beauty. 

Gorge before Baring Falls	Gorge before Baring Falls
Post 2015 fire	Baring Falls

 

Gorge before Baring Falls

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Wildlife sighting!!!

Rebirth after fire

We exited the park on the east side and discovered that the drive to the cabin was longer than anticipated. A significant portion of the park’s east side and the lands south and east are part of the Blackfeet Indian Reservation. The Blackfeet people believe that their livestock should roam freely, so it’s pretty standard to slow down for cows in the middle of the road or walking alongside. It’s advisable to drive slowly, as the road curves continuously, and you never know if you’ll encounter a large black bull. We actually did encounter one the other day.

We also drove past the Blackfeet’s Bison range, where we saw numerous buffalo.

Need we say anything!

Bison in Blackfeet Nation Bison Reserve

Shelley had spotted the Huckleberry Superstore, and of course, a brief stop was necessary. The Montana Huckleberry is native only to the northwestern regions of Montana. It thrives abundantly in the meadows of Glacier National Park. These berries are the preferred food of bears, and hikers are advised to avoid berry patches, as they may encounter grizzly or black bears and their cubs feasting on the delectable berries. The safest way to sample huckleberries is from roadside stands. Shelley’s initial encounter with the fruit was in a Huckleberry Cream Cheese bar. Occasionally, one finds that their offer to share is declined, leaving the entire delicious treat to oneself.

Upon our arrival, we realized that huckleberries could be incorporated into a wide variety of dishes. Jams, preserves, pies, and ice cream toppings are the obvious choices. However, there was also Huckleberry tea, gourmet soda, honey, barbecue sauce, lotions, shampoo, lip balm, and countless other options. We purchased several jars of jam, creamed honey, a four-pack of soda, huckleberry lemonade mix, barbecue sauce, and a slice of Huckleberry pie. The intention was to save these treats for after dinner. Nevertheless, Shelley immediately had to experience the first bite in the car, before she even got the door closed!

We arrived at the cabin at 7:15 PM, and what a joy to behold! Shelley was overjoyed when we rounded the curve and drove into the driveway of the Cowboy cabin at Swan Lake Cabins. It was a storybook log cabin. You should see it for yourself.

Look close, Shelley is up there.	Cowboy cabin at Swan Lake Cabins

 

Shelley did not like the down!

After a long day in the car, we reluctantly left the cabin at 7:45 PM to find dinner. Since Bigfork was the closest option, that’s where we headed. Upon arrival, we were pleasantly surprised by the charming downtown area of Bigfork. The quaint town boasted numerous artsy shops, cozy cafes, and even a small performing arts center. However, we were disappointed to find that most places were closed.

Determined to find a place to eat, we spoke to a friendly storekeeper and decided to try The Garden Kitchen, a budget-friendly burger bar. This place was unique! We had to go straight to the cook and pay for our meal, which he prepared and brought to our table. Then, we had to go to the bar to get drinks. There was no wait staff; we had to pay for each drink individually.

Shelley was delighted to find unsweetened iced tea, and we were even happier when the food arrived. It was excellent! The burger, when fully dressed with pickles, tomato, a giant onion, and lettuce, was at least six inches tall. Shelley’s large mouth easily managed the first bite. Londell declared the fries to be the best. 

Look at all that onion!!!

The Garden Kitchen, where we ordered and paid for the food.

 

We managed to return to the cabin before dark, but we decided to stop at a nearby market to refuel. This meant an additional 20 minutes of shopping for Shelley, although she didn’t purchase much. Londell, on the other hand, indulged in ice cream, as Shelley wouldn’t willingly share the Huckleberry pie we had bought earlier (just kidding, she did ask, but Londell preferred good ice cream). Shelley smiled. We were able to call it a night by 11:00 PM!