day 46: sandpoint, ID

early this morning we waved goodbye to montana. more accurately, i waved goodbye to a sign that said "leaving montana," and the back and forth motion of my hand was a simple gesture of my mixed feelings about the passage. on the one hand, montana is host to many of our trip's most arresting sights and memorable characters; i grieved a little for our passing on. on the other hand, the dead-flat middle is a desert of spiritual angst and ennui, and the westerly "breezes" are proof that my family and friends don't love me and that God regrets ever knitting together in my mother's womb. good riddance! at 667 miles across, montana's breadth exceeds that of all preceding (multi-state) stages and totals nearly one fifth of the tour's total mileage. as i was invited by another sign 50 yards down the road, i feel welcomed by idaho, but unsure how to conceptualize my relationship to a state whose panhandle we will cross in a half-day's ride.

yesterday's ride took two detours: we stopped about 12 miles north of libby to hike down to the kootenai falls and the swinging bridge that spans the rapids. after another hour or so on the bike, we climbed three switchbacking miles above the banks of bull lake to the ross creek giant cedars national park. after pb and j, we dawdled under the canopy of cedar and hemlock, playing in burned out trunks, posing for pictures and frequently exclaiming the awesomeness of the place. the persistence of nature's cycles was everywhere in view: the lightning-struck, termite-eaten trunk lay on the forest floor like a capsized mast, overgrown with mosses, fungi. a sign alerted us that even the rocks are being broken down by the conspiracy of lichen and dividing ice. life so intimate with death, and death in its own time. i thought of the first stanza of elizabeth bishop's poem "the shampoo."

The still explosions on the rocks,
the lichens grow
by spreading, gray, concentric shocks.
They have arranged
to meet the rings around the moon, although
within our memories they have not changed.

in closing, perhaps it is appropriate to note that -- precious wonder -- our passage into idaho was also a successful journey back in time, exactly one hour into the past. we are now on pacific standard time. time can only move forward for us now, until we reach the coast.