A life with no ‘connections’
22 July, 2011 § Leave a comment
I write this not because I haven’t blogged in several … let’s just say weeks. I write this because I just spent a few weeks in Idaho with only dial-up (gasp) internet and then several days in the Idaho & Montana mountains with absolutely no internet or phone connection. I love sharing and connecting, tweeting, blogging, reading, posting, and multi-tasking like there’s no tomorrow. But at the moment, I want to share with you one day without any of that:
Tuesday, my family and I hiked up into the Bitterroot National Forest in search of a lake. Not a highly frequented spot, we were surprised to find another group of fishers had beaten us there and were using all the best spots.
We’d already hiked uphill for over an hour and my seven-year-old sister’s short legs were losing their bounce. But my dad suggested we continue hiking to “the other, higher lake.”
It wasn’t until we realized we had reached the divide between Idaho and Montana that we also realized we were not going to find “the other, higher lake.” I’m still not sure one exists.
But it was also not until we had hiked that high, for an extra 45-minutes, that we finally stopped to appreciate the literally breath-taking view surrounding us. The dizzying dips and slopes, the soft tree-covered mountains, and the craggy stretches with only dirt and rock, large stretches of shining white snow, and behind it all a clearer, bluer sky than I’ve ever seen ― even in movies.
Later we hiked back down to the lower (and possibly, only) lake. We rested, snacked, and fished.
The lake was so clear that I could see the two cutthroat trout under the water who swam up and bit my hook. Wild and wiggly, I released them both, but not before a quick, “I caught a fish!” dance on the squelchy shore.
These are the moments I miss out on when the first thing I do in the morning is check my email, not sit next the window and sip fresh, percolated coffee. When I’m too occupied texting to notice the fuzzy caterpillar crossing in front of me. And when I’m so busy updating my Facebook, telling the world how bored I am, that I don’t just sit and dangle my feet in a creek.
I realize we can’t escape to nature every weekend, or even that we need to “escape.”I, obviously, am back online and blogging within days of my mountain-top trek.
But taking a little breather made me appreciate both the connections technology enables, as well as the things it sometimes causes us to forget.