I hadn't run by myself for ages and ages. It was super. Just putting on all my running gear made me happy - it seemed like a long time since I'd run at all, even though it had only been about a week. Perhaps it had been two. It was 16 degrees outside and windier than a son-of-a-gun, the Hellgate wind ablowing. Only the crazies were out. All was beiced/Alles war Eis bedeckt, especially the river trail they just paved to make it easier to clear in the winter. (The part they didn't pave was not icy.) I had on my new spikes made of diamonds so I didn't slip at all. I don't have a windbreaker for running so I was wearing a raincoat, the inside of which became a drippy steam room.
I admit I was taken aback by the arrival of the winter, even though August was five months ago now. Missoula is like a giant ice cream freezer these days. But pretty. The hills are large and white. Everyone is friendly and merry. The days will start getting longer in just about two weeks.
I am now reading:
- Tough Trip Through Paradise by Andrew Garcia. This is like a combination of The Big Sky and The Road to Virginia City. So far, the guy's riding around in the woods with a drunkard, some horse thieves, and 104 stolen horses. I don't know what will happen.
- Selected Works by Richard Hugo. I come to this collection of poems with deeply ingrained biases against both fishes and poetry, and unfortunately these poems are full of fishes. Also I've always thought Richard Hugo's name was very pompous. I am sorry for that but that's the way it's always been. I will probably be reading this book for the next decade. I'm sorry.
1 comment:
109 horses.
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