I just spent a ton of time chronicling my life at Valleyfair.....wow it was boring. So i deleted it. Hellllooo Kelsey has no life. Now I have no idea how to fill 700 words. Why don't I have original thoughts. I don't enjoy this. Bah humbug for starting this a 3rd time. I have so much homework I could and should be doing right now. And instead I am complaining on the internet. Tight.

I'm running a marathon in 7 days. Holy crap I'm running a marathon in 7 days. I'm scared shitless. My shin splints scream and my body aches and I haven't made it through a run all week and I just don't want to do it. But I'm so excited. And I can and will finish. And it will be great. As long as Dad actually runs. We'll see.

I got lost the last time I went to one of these. We were at the starting line, trying futilely to find my dad amidst the throngs of runners. I was holding my baby dog. Apparently mom and the boys walked off while Kobie and I weren't looking, and suddenly we were alone. Ter-if-ying. Speakers blasting literally two steps behind my head caused me to walk in search of my family...in , as I found out later, the exact opposite direction that I should have been going. Good times. Anyway, it was scary and Minneapolis-y and eventually I was found. I guess my tie in to that is, I hope I don't get lost this year.

I hate this. So so so forced. I have no insight to share.

I can't do it. So this is the extreme in copping out. But here's a story. It's relevant cause I've been feeling so pulled to the mountains lately. Summer come quickly, so I can escape to Idaho and live in their beauty. Ha, summer come quickly....too bad it's 8 months away. Whoop! Anyway. Mountain climbing. Hurr.

Scotchman’s Peak

I adjusted my bulky pack and knelt down carefully under the load to tie my dusty tennis shoes. I laughed to myself. Never in my life had I seen a mountain aside from a picture on a computer screen or in a book, and here I was, set to climb one of the most grueling peaks in northern Idaho. Only Allie could have dragged me here. I glanced over to see my best friend grinning at me. “Let’s go!” Her eyes gleamed with excitement. I called Maggie to get out of the truck. The eight pound pooch scampered out to join us, undaunted by what I saw as a perilous hike ahead.

Scotchman’s Peak is a name-dropping opportunity for any avid hiker of the American Northwest. One of the highest peaks in the Clarkfork Mountains, it’s 7,009 foot summit gazes proudly upon the beautiful country of Western Montana and Bonner County, Idaho (Menard). Described impressively with its “steep-sided glacial valleys, precipitious peaks, and knife-edge ridges (Menard),” it is no wonder enthusiasts journey days for a chance to climb the beautiful crest. Janet Edwards has hiked Scotchman’s in what she describes as “every type of weather you can imagine.” Though she is a seasoned Scotchman’s hiker, the mountain always keeps her coming back. “Scotchman’s Peak is my favorite hike. The trail has been different every time I’ve gone up. It changes with the seasons, and feels longer or shorter depending on the mountain’s mood. Every time is a different rush, and every time is its own unique accomplishment (Edwards).”

I am not ashamed to say that I, myself, would have felt perfectly accomplished turning around and going home after I we finished a seemingly endless first mile to our hike. Allie, who has much more experience hiking than I do, claims that the first mile of Scotchman’s is the worst she has ever climbed. “It’s discouraging every time you do it,” she says. “Whether you do it just once or even twenty times it never gets easier, and you really just don’t think you’re going to make it up the mountain (Anderson).” Any hiking handbook that mentions Scotchman’s Peak will tell you likewise. The first mile is the hardest. Once you get through the seemingly endless 45 degree incline, you’re home free. A trek so demanding was not something for which my body was prepared, and my legs seared with constant pain as we made trudged along the trail. This was not a pleasant way to begin my first real hike. However, at least one of our troupe seemed to be enjoying herself. Maggie bounded in front of us, unfazed by our present agony, searching every tree and flower for a new friend with whom to play.

On Scotchman’s, it isn’t very hard to find such wild playmates. Countless brightly colored song birds, rabbits, mountain goats, and grizzlies roam Scotchman’s Peak and its surrounding areas. Allie always advises me to remember a “bear stick,” a term she coined referring to a branch she will carry around throughout any hike and use to bang on trees and rocks, so as to scare the bears away. “People make fun of me for my bear stick,” she laughs, “but I’m alright with the fact that I’m not a badass who rips bears heads off mid-hike. There’s a lot of wildlife up here, and my rule of thumb for avoiding them is simply to make all the noise I can.”

Though we didn’t have the pleasure of making a bear’s acquaintance, their very presence tells something about the area. The 88,000 acres encompassing the Scotchman Peaks area is one of the largest roadless areas in the Western United States (Egan). Wilderness enthusiasts of Northern Idaho and Western Montana such as Friends of Scotchman Peaks Wilderness are currently working to set aside this and other similar areas so that they remains in their pristine condition. The Friends of Scotchman Peaks Wilderness is an organization devoted to promoting awareness and gaining support for the dedication of the Scotchman Peaks area as wilderness (Friends of Scotchman Peaks). The United States Forest Service has surveyed the land since the 1970s to gauge its potential for a wilderness area, and several breakthroughs have caused Scotchman’s Peak to retain its purity.

Once I was finally able to catch my breath and look around me, I saw precisely the group has worked to preserve this specific slice of the wild. Such splendor is something that should be shared with all who wish to experience it. I stopped to take pictures of everything: rock formations, trees, flowers. I wanted everyone to see what I saw. This is precisely what the Friends of Scotchman Peak Wilderness desire. They want people to be inspired by nature as they were once inspired themselves. Genuinely connecting with nature is a powerful feeling, and it is one that should not be limited by the diminishing of wilderness itself.

The United States has been a leader in wilderness preservation since the mid 1800s. Yellowstone National Park was set apart in 1872, making it the first national park not only in the United States, but in the entire world (Egan). Yellowstone’s famous grizzlies are the epitome of freedom in wildlife, and each year, over three million tourists visit the bears, Old Faithful, geysers, mud pots, and all of Yellowstone’s beauty (Wallace). After just two years of working at Yellowstone, Kory Henkel claims to have been transformed by his experience in the awe-inspiring park. “The fact that we as a nation decided that it was important for us to preserve this pristine wilderness is a marvel in and of itself. But to do it with such grace and care? The parks are set up so well that you can see everything. For us not to disturb it, yet allow for you to still feel as though you’re a 16th century explorer seeing everything for the first time. That’s when you’re really seeing the wonders of God’s creation (Henkel).”

Allie and I huffed and sweated our way for roughly five miles up the winding mountain trails. Monstrous pine trees towered around us throughout our trek, but I could finally see a break in the foliage ahead. We pushed forward, sensing our goal was close. Finally, I knew we had seen are last tree. “So we made it, huh, Al?” Allie looked back at me and laughed. She pointed. I craned my neck to get a better look, and the view caused my excited heart to drop into my stomach. “It’s quite the discouragement,” Janet says. “Here you are, looking up at a beautiful summit, and you have to realize that you’ve still got to go straight up another 700 feet. It’s like the face of Scotchman’s is jeering you, and you have to decide how you’re going to overcome it.”

Looking up at those remaining 700 feet of our journey was certainly discouraging, but with a little prodding, I was convinced that I could beat this mountain. We continued our ascent. Maggie hopped from rock to rock, and I stepped determinedly behind, consciously evening my breathing and listening to my inner pep talks. Slowly, Allie and I pushed on, using all of our strength to reach the top. I took my final steps to the summit and bent over my knees. “We made it, Al,” I heaved.

I got no answer. I looked up and saw that Allie had crossed to the far side of the large, flat summit. “Come on,” she called. “You’ve got to come see this.” At this point, all I wanted to do was sit and rest, but I reluctantly followed her beckon. I stood by her side and looked out on the majesty of the Scotchman Peaks Wilderness. The view was quite literally breathtaking. “That’s the Clarkfork, there,” Allie pointed. The wide river looked like nothing but a stream from our height, and sunlight danced on the deep blue surface of the lake below. Towns and roads were invisible, and I was lost in the vastness around me. Everything was wide and everything was open. Eminent mountains surrounded me, the breeze awakened me, all the colors were so bright. It truly was a rush. “My favorite part of Scotchman’s is the view,” says Allie. “You are so overwhelmed by the view and the lake and seeing your surroundings from above. You realize how small you are in the world, and that is a wonder in itself.”

This kind of feeling, this rush, this reaction, is one that the United States has worked to preserve since the days of Yellowstone’s creation. Not only did the United States found the world’s first national park, but in 1920 the Gila National Forest in New Mexico became the first forest to be protect by any country’s federal government, and in 1964, Congress passed the world’s first widespread wilderness legislation (Egan). The Wilderness Act of 1964 created the National Wilderness Preservation System now contains more than 100 million acres of land which, by the act’s description, should be, “an area where Earth and its community of life are untrammeled by man, where man himself is a visitor who does not remain (“Wilderness Act”).” From my experience, Scotchman’s peak certainly fits this depiction.

“It’s demanding trek,” Allie admits. “It’s difficult in a unique way each time you climb the it--sometimes it seems as though the mountain is playing tricks on you. I think that’s part of why it’s so worth it in the end. You know you’ve worked hard for something, and you finally get to appreciate it.” Wilderness in America provides opportunities for people across the nation to experience this same sense of wonder and accomplishment. After gaining 7,009 feet of elevation, my goal of climbing a mountain was realized, and I stood in awe of the world around me. Looking out at the mountains, the sky, the lake and trees, I saw an America which was untouched by man, and for the first time, I was introduced to how truly phenomenal nature can be. This same beauty and the reverence it inspires is what the United States has taken an active role in protecting since the creation of Yellowstone in 1872. The actions of the United States government as a forerunner in wilderness preservation display the country’s appreciation for the world as it was created, and instills a sense of pride in its citizens. Scotchman’s Peak impacted me in a way that only wilderness can, and because of National Parks and America’s preservation of its pristine wildlife, people will continue to be influenced by wilderness for generations to come.