I had a jam-packed couple of days recently. Had a gig west of the divide and camped out. On the way home, I ventured into the remote northern Bitterroots to release my grandmother’s ashes.
I ended up getting lost up at 6k during a wicked storm on my way to find a hidden lake. Trees were cracking and teetering, debris swirled in the air. Then the storm cleared as if it was never there, and a rainbow appeared over the wilderness. A few minutes later I found the lake, and spread the ashes in the largest wilderness ecosystem in the lower 48, right on the Idaho/Montana border in sub-alpine country still rimmed with snowfields. I could hear a waterfall crashing into the lake as I spread the ashes.
My grandmother was amazingly strong and independent…a centering force. I looked up to her that way, and I hope it rubbed off on me.
Thanks for everything, grandma.
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