Chairlift: Searching for the missing glove

Last Wednesday's warm weather moved me to clock out midday for a few hours and hike some of Big Mountain with my dogs.  

Not that we needed a purpose, but we told ourselves we were looking for the glove I lost last winter. You might remember that a wind gust sent my favored, blue and grey uphill glove over the edge of the Benny Up trail just beyond the Tree of Deception. 

I had been participating in the Shred-a-thon and when nature decided to take my briefly-dropped glove, I lacked the grit to chase it down. I figured I would eventually find it. Thus far, I have not. 

We had hiked the Benny Up on Saturday to search for the glove to no avail. The terrain is steep and heavily vegetated and I have no clue where the glove might have come to a stop. I guess that’s true of all lost things -- if we knew where they were, they wouldn’t be lost. 

Soreness from Saturday’s hike had worn off, so we headed up again. This time, we went a pitch farther up the hill and did something I have never done. We sat in the shade of the Tree of Deception and soaked up a dose of perspective. 

In the winter, the Tree of Deception is a milestone. While I have stopped there to take in a few breaths during an uphill trip, I’ve never parked there for long. Until Saturday. 

My dogs understood this was going to be a longer stop than the couple shade breaks we had taken earlier. Usually excited and interested in every smell to be sniffed, they sat on beargrass and took in the view with me before lying down, crosswise on the slope. 

A huge brown bird was soaring over the Big Ravine trail. Although the dogs didn’t let on, I think they were as impressed as I at the sheer size of that tremendous bird.  

“That’s a huge bird,” I said aloud at least four times. “It must be a golden eagle. I don’t know what other bird would be so big and so brown.”  

With conversational skills like that, it’s a wonder my dogs stick around. My pups, like all dogs, are exceptional. Without rolling their eyes, they suggested the eagle could probably find my glove. 

Sometimes, staying in the valley and working too many weeks in a row causes the world to shrink and pressure to build. Sitting on a mountain allows oneself space and ease. 

We had no luck finding the glove, but we found peace. We also found a new side of that old tree. It is not only a place where one can gasp for air during exertion; it can also be a place to breathe deeply and calmly. 

It was not easy going on the way up, leashed together and negotiating the alder, fir and huckleberry bush laden slope. I promised easier going on the way downhill, so after descending one more sharply sloped stretch, we hopped on the Danny On trail until it crossed Big Ravine. There, two of us got sips from the stream and we finished up on the Big Ravine trail. 

We were in it more for the journey than the goal Wednesday and we all enjoyed the post-hike fatigue and fresh-air-induced peace of mind that comes from time on The Big.  

Chin up, Whitefish. Ski season opens in 64 days. Get your gloves ready.