Boozhoo, indinawemaaganidog! Aaniin! That is to say hello, all of my relatives! Welcome to another edition of An Irritable Métis. There are only three or four months to go before I get the hang of writing “2024” whenever I’m forced to record a date and that success will come with a lot of concerted, focused effort. I’ve resolved to get that right before I bend any real training toward consistently getting the day of the week correct as well. After all, resolutions are more likely to succeed if we start small, right? Meanwhile, I hope your 2024 is off to a good start since there’s really no going back now. As I’m of a mind to remind you often: we are all in this together.
On December 27th I slipped outside into the cold morning a little after 7:00am. I had a cup of coffee in a thermos mug in one hand and a weathered old saddle blanket I keep hanging over my office door in the other; I threw the blanket down onto the frost-covered cedar chair that lives on my front porch and lowered myself onto it. Nookomis was hanging over the horizon just in front of me and an owl was calling from that direction too. Nookomis was so bright! She made me want to hoo-hoo into the darkness too. There were wisps of cloud around Her like courtiers hoping for a glance their way. Everything was cold and beautiful. No part of me wanted to be anywhere else.
I sipped coffee and listened to sporadic traffic on the road a half-mile away and a distant rooster. Then a train. Occasional people sounds from the neighborhood, like a door closing, a car starting. Dogs barking furiously and then, just as suddenly, subsiding. From inside their house a neighbor down the street flipped on the Christmas lights ringing their front porch and though their multi-colored glow was between me and Nookomis I really didn’t mind. It was still lovely, just a different kind of lovely.
Common goldeneyes were out and about as well, whistling by overhead, their wings beating furiously. I love that sound so much, the way they announce their coming and going. I don’t know if it was one small group circling and circling or several coming in from different directions. It didn’t matter. They were there!
The light swelled and the cold squeezed tighter, slipping little fingers up under my jacket and down into my slippers to find my bare feet. I could see mist all snarled up in the trees just below the ridgeline to the south. That too is one of my favorite sights. I stood up and stiffly descended the porch and down the street just a short walk to watch Mishomis rise over the eastern horizon. This time I saw the goldeneyes as they whistled by, a group of eight, against a pale sky streaked with tangerine. I smiled. What a celebratory morning it was turning out to be.
“I’m thinking a lot about the word “holy” lately. Not in a “get thee to a nunnery” way, though secluded silence doesn’t sound terrible, but more in the way of seeing the mundane as something with essence, something intentional. Gratitude and just being a part of seasonal cycles and weather patterns and the earth Herself.”
Irritable Reader Sarah P., who “gets” it
December 27th was meaningful to me because it was the last time I would be counting my minutes outside. Readers who have been here for a year or more may recall that in 2023 I decided to challenge myself to log 1000 hours outside, as inspired by a social media post that caught my attention. There is a program related to it that is geared more toward children; there’s an app and a curriculum and other stuff that is probably good and useful for some people who aren’t me. I just loved the idea of the challenge so I went for it.
1000 hours is no big deal for people who work outside but for those of us who don’t it’s more challenging that you might think. You have to give it the priority it deserves. Some months went great while others were less so. Going into November I was certain I was going to reach my goal with ease but then I got sick and the entire enterprise teetered on the brink of failure. But I rallied in December, particularly during my week in Yellowstone, and pulled it off. I was excited to complete what I’d set out to do.
I’ve always considered myself an outside guy and connected to my neighborhood. Doubling down on being out in it made me realized I wasn’t nearly as plugged-in as I thought, or even as “outdoorsy.” Not just around my house, though the extra outside time in its immediate vicinity had a profound impact on my relationship to it, but just everywhere doing anything. I was truly immersed in the “seasonal cycles and weather patterns” of the world because I had to be or I’d never have managed to make the special effort successful, and I loved every bit of it. I was outside on the coldest days of the year and the hottest, and pretty much everything in between. I got to know my neighbors better. I spent most of those hours alone but more than plenty in the company of other people. There isn’t a single aspect of my life that wasn’t improved by my committment to time spent outside. I’m just better and happier when I make the effort to be away from the garbage that comprises much of my indoor life.
There’s probably some pithy quote I could dig up somewhere by someone wiser than me to really bring the point home but I am just going to repeat this: there isn’t a single aspect of my life that wasn’t improved by my committment to time spent outside. It’s one of the best choices I’ve ever made in my life and I don’t intend to relax the effort.
Just after midday of the 27th I ventured out to Council Grove because that is where I wanted to complete the challenge. I made no effort to hurry as I had about ninety minutes to go, so I made a slow clockwise navigation of the place. It was still cold outside and the pond where I look for beavers (but mostly see muskrats) was all but iced over. At the far end though I could see a tree that appeared to have recently undergone some inspection from a beaver. I made my way over to it to make certain and sure enough: beaver sign. There were floating chips suspended in the ice all around it and it was beautiful. But climbing back up the bank I realized that this lone tree was just a fraction of the obvious and recent presence of beavers. There is a grove of aspens just across the way that beavers had gone apeshit in. Apeshit! I made my way through the branches and just breathed in amazement. Amik had been hard at it and all in just a few recent days. It is pretty spectacular what these little relatives are capable of!
A little giddy, I made a tobacco offering at one of the gnawed-on stumps, then set an alarm on my phone and sat down, feeling happy and cold and grateful and connected. This is where I wanted to be when I hit 1000 hours.
And it was.
What’s Next
I’m still spending as much time outside as I can I’m just not tracking the hours. Which is a surprising relief! But I loved the challenge so for 2024 I decided to use the same hours/month chart to attack the following: 1000 miles of walking. And I don’t mean step counting and using sojourns to the depths of the Costco and back as contribution to the effort. I mean legit, intentional, I’m-out-to-do-road-work miles. We’ll see what happens and I feel good about it. I love to walk!
Don’t Forget Missoula!
This is this Wednesday, January 10, at the library. Don’t let the snowy doom of our current wintery forecast keep you away! It should be a good one.
More details HERE but here is the plan in a concise nutshell:
An in-depth discussion about the conquest of Indigenous land in North America and the often overlooked efforts of tribal cooperation to stand against it, viewed through the lens of the Shawnee chief Tecumseh, the subject of Stark’s new book, and La Tray’s own Pembina Chippewa/Little Shell people.
Hope to see some of you locals there! Peter’s no dull historian and neither am I, so expect the conversation to be spirited!
And Then a Reprise in Seeley Lake!
Yup.
I walk a little over 1000 miles a year (though I only tracked it for the two years I was writing about it, out of curiosity), which is about 2.7 miles a day, or a little under an hour at my pace. Nice to know the 1000 hours outside and on foot can share a relationship—though wouldn’t it be nice to flip it and only have 1000 hours inside? Crazy how we got to this place. Happy walking!
Welp! I have been dithering about doing the 1000 hours outside this year. Your descriptions of your experience with it all year have been inspiring. Among hesitations I have, one is that my husband works a hard job and is outside all the time. And so having/getting to make this sort of resolution to get my butt outdoors in the weather seems a little...I don't know the word. Privileged? Precious?
And yet. Imitating you by writing a few lines every morning turned out to be one of the best things i have done in my life. And the fact that I suffer less, physically, for my work, than my loved one doesn't change the simple fact that, I need more outside. So. I guess that does it. (1000 hours though?! We will see if I can do it.)