Priorities

More than any other time in college, this semester has called into question my priorities.

I feel as though I've spent more time out of school than in it, this time around. Maybe it's because I am a senior and this is a natural progression. Maybe life outside is tugging at me and beckoning me out.

How could you resist?

I have chosen life experiences over a higher letter grade, this time. I might regret it when it comes to graduation, but for the last two months of school, I have been busy balancing my classes, caving, volunteering, the thesis project, and my coffee shop job. Small wonder I haven't updated this blog.

In that time I have struggled to complete assignments before taking off on a long cave trip. Apologized to friends that I haven't seen in ages when I cancel on them yet again. And I've cried in frustration when the careful balance of my schedule tips the wrong way, and I drop one of the items I'm juggling.

Except this drop.

I know that this is temporary, though. And from the limited life experience I have, I've noticed that the hardest things are usually the most worthwhile.

So much bus sickness for this...

Maybe my priorities are completely wrong. But I wonder if I'll look back and regret a day I could have spent in school instead of out finding bats, getting filthy, getting to know some fantastic people.

Mr. Myotis says "I'd rather you didn't..."

I doubt it.

--Batwoman

Get it.

I definitely should not even be taking the time to blog right now, but I suppose I will count it as "down time." It has been one of the nuttiest final exam weeks I have ever had, and I don't even have any sit-down, fill-in-the-blank finals.

However, I have real-life items that need accomplishing, which is better in some ways and worse in others. I am more motivated to complete projects that aren't just busywork, but failure means more than just a grade, too.

The potential-for-failure list included my senior thesis committee meeting on Monday. As I might have imagined, it involved sitting down with 4 established Phds who grilled me for 1.5 hours about my intended research. It was both terrifying beyond all reason, and fantastic to be sitting down discussing research and being taken seriously by such an admirable group of professionals.

Today, I lobbied as part of a student group (we call ourselves SLUG) for expanding garden space on campus. We pitched our food garden idea to the head of the university dining service--a very intelligent character who appears to pull no punches when it comes to his opinion. Our group evidently withstood his scrutiny, he declared his support for the project, aaaand. . . we still have lots of work to do, and at the very best outlook, a year before any ground is broken on such a garden.

But you know what? I find myself amazed that as a junior undergraduate at the University, I actually do have some power and voice. It is easy to get lost in this institution of ours, to feel like a cow being run through a feedlot until it's your turn to. . . well, join the workforce I guess (that metaphor didn't pan out.)

I think it would have been easy to keep my head down and quietly do my time here. But everywhere I look, I see students who are doing more than that (and much more than me). Attending the University of Montana has changed me considerably--why shouldn't I make a tiny mark on it?

Enough ponderings I suppose--back to slogging through! (The cow pies. Because. . . never mind).

-Batgirl

The sun will come out, tomooooorrroooooowwww!! Eh, whatever.

On a Good Day

Two weeks out from the finish of spring semester, I've been thinking about how fast college really goes. It seems like only a few months ago I was a timid freshman tiptoeing around campus, clutching my lanyard and school ID.

Two years ago, I wandered around the beautiful UM campus and realized that I wanted nothing more than to have friends to play Frisbee with on the lawn, or take silly trips on the weekends. I ached to have adventures, but they didn't mean much without people to share them.

Sunset over Fish Creek

Somehow in this time, I have managed to stumble into some truly wonderful, quirky people, whose company I do not deserve in the least. People who didn't mind braving rainy, cold, spring conditions to go camping with me, cracking jokes even when we couldn't get to our campsite because the road was snowed in.

We found a new site that was perfect anyway: along the banks of the gorgeous Fish Creek, among blooming trillium and the drumming ruffed grouse.

Use your imagination for the grouse.

Before dinner, eight of us hiked a nearby ridge to gain views of the valley. We stopped every few yards to ahhh over some new view, rock or flower. Our generation gets accused of not being in touch with the outdoors or nature, but none of us were there for any reason except that we wanted to be.

Absolute torture.

That evening, we cooked an enormous amount of food that even ten of us couldn't eat. I clumsily started a fire, and we hung out and played games in the firelight, staying miraculously dry from rain. I was foolishly happy the whole time. Hanging out with some good friends in the outdoors is pretty much all I have ever wanted from life.

Plus cool wildflowers!

I'm probably kind of simple, that way.

Bridge Project: Stage 1

First off, I have to apologize--these blog posts probably won't be very exciting. When I get all nerded up it's hard to stop me. I'll try to throw in an interesting picture or two to shake things up.

For example.

Anyway: I get the impression that no one has tried to do a Wildlife Senior Thesis at my wonderful university this century, since no one seems quite sure what the guidelines are. I'm not sure if this is terrifying or reassuring, because we can all screw up together.

However, I can say that the faculty has been wonderful and supportive. I have begged help from university affiliates who aren't even paid professors, and they have gracefully agreed to give up their time for me. I intend to figure out the favorite cookie/food item of every person who helps me out and deliver them before this is all over.

In all seriousness, it is wonderful and surprising that people in my chosen field are such willing mentors. I hope I am in a position to do the same one day, and that I remember how much I was given.

That being said, I am certainly at the bottom of the slope of effort concerning this project.

The Mountain of Responsibility!

Meaning, all the work lies ahead of me now. Is it sick that I am a little excited about that? I like work, I really do. (Contrary to what I'll tell you if I have to wake up early).

When I first discovered that caving was a thing that actually happened in Montana (yes, this was less than a year ago. . . ) I went to the library and whiled away an entire afternoon buried in books about caving. I was supposed to be studying for an exam, but, y'know. . . For the rest of the semester, I kept a old black book, Caves of Montana, at my bedside. I stayed up late and made meticulous sticky-notes throughout the book. Here was a cave I wanted to visit one day, or here was a cave that had been lost--maybe I could find it?

Second example: when the first tundra wildflowers began popping up during my summer in Barrow, my excitement grew to a level of obsession. Armed with a semester's worth of plant study, I embarked to identify and know every species of plant I saw on the tundra. For two months, I obsessively photographed, catalogued, and fell in love with every flower and willow I saw. After my real work was done for the day, I retreated to work on a 55-slide powerpoint with the taxonomy of every plant.

You rare beauty, Mare's Tail. . .

I repeated their Latin names to myself until I memorized them. Devoted myself to studying them as I have never in my life devoted myself to schoolwork.

Should this come off as bragging, I would remind you that I've never been able to summon this depth of fascination and focus on things that I am supposed to be doing--just my own side, pet projects.

Which is why I hope to summon this nearly insane-level devotion for the Bridge Project. I will do whatever it takes. Stay up however many nights I need, spend many lonely hours collecting data solo this summer. I want to do this, and I want to make it work.

You see, I'm not a born scientist. Not a logical, ordered thinker. I have always been more of a dreamer type. But every so often, something fires me up like Arctic plants, and I think, maybe I do belong here. Maybe I could actually contribute something worthwhile.

I am not naturally skilled, exceptionally smart or talented. But dammit, I can make up for that with sheer, overwhelming drive. . . I hope.

Wish me luck.

--Ellen

Urgggh choices

It's that time of year again! That period of midwinter restlessness and desire to see the days grow longer again. When you've exhausted the snowshoeing/skiing options (or the snow just doesn't want to cooperate).

Ha. I wish.

For us wildlifers, it's also job season. I am applying and interviewing for summer seasonal work, which means my head is already way past spring semester. Considering I have 18 credits' worth of class to get through, that could be problematic.

Summatime!! And animals yeah!!

Last year, I already knew by February that I was going to be spending my summer in Barrow. It provided a welcome incentive to get through the drudge of spring semester. However, last year the choice was simple. I received few offers (due to it being a terrible, terrible year for federally funded projects), and of those offers, Alaska was the only real option because of timing conflict. (Note: I had zero problem with this).

This year the game has changed. There are actual projects to choose from. I also have an aim--if possible, I'd like to start working with bats. I've never before had an interest in a particular species, so I am excited to see where it goes.

It probably goes into some large, dark hole.

Someday it's going to exasperate me, but for now, I am enjoying the fleeting nature of wildlife work. I don't want to be trapped in one place or one career. I want to travel around, see new places and meet new people every few months. I love Missoula--this place has become my home while going to school here.

Beautiful from so many angles.

After just three years, Missoula is already full of memories. I complain about college a lot because there are a lot of problems with the system, but it has been very good for me. I came to UM a nervous, naive 18-year-old. I kept my head down through public school in conservative, rural Montana. I was so busy trying not to stand out that I never questioned what I actually liked.

Except motorcycles. Motorcycles always win.

Three years ago, I'd never been rock climbing, kayaking, caving, or even backpacking. I hadn't hiked hundreds of miles in the backcountry or swam in icy mountain lakes, or run in Arctic races.

Or played with baby caribou in the mist.

 It's amazing how easily I can take all that for granted. I get fed up with long days of school and work and little sleep, but the truth is, it's already been worth it. I am incredibly graced with everything I have found here. Kind, welcoming people, unique experiences, maybe even a tiny bit of self-confidence that I didn't have before.

In other words, I need to suck it up, quit complaining, and get ready to work my ass off this semester. Summer will come, and hopefully some sort of paid employment with it.

Stay weird, lovely Missoula.

--Ellen Marie

The Wild Life

The world is an awfully big place. But you don't realize this, really, until you start to study its components. Specifically, until you're paying thousands of dollars to study them. (Welcome to wildlife biology).

There's only one life to live that we know of, so at some point you are going to have to make a choice. There isn't enough time to study them all.

Z

The fishes. . .

The birdies. . .

Or the beasts, and that's just to start. There are further divisions from there, of course.

Do you want to spend much of your time on foot, sweatily hiking through the undergrowth and waiting for a mountain lion to rip your throat out? Would you prefer spending your time on the rivers? Or staring at blurry bird-shapes through binoculars for hours on end?

These are questions that college doesn't really teach you to raise. Nor will your classes teach you the answer. The only answer is in getting your feet on the ground, sweating in the underbrush, and squinting at bird shapes for hours on end. If you hate it, awesome, you can cross that off your list. But if you love it so much that you are hooked forever. . .

Then you're pretty much fucked. Sorry.

Forget about it!!

Because you love the fish, and the birds, and those little green things that you're trampling on. Everything has its own beauty and logic to it, all pieces to that gigantic incredible puzzle that is the world.

You have absolutely no chance of understanding even a tiny corner of it in your lifetime. But it's alright. . . you can die trying.

And this gull will sneer at you for your efforts.

Extra ordinary

Epic adventures are fantastic, of course, but most of what makes up our lives lies in between. They are the spices of life, adding that necessary flair, but meaningless without the cake they are sprinkled on.

Cake is picking up your phone to call your friend and invite them on a walk, only to find that they are calling you at that exact moment for the same reason. Cake is hiking up a short trail on a warm spring evening and enjoying the beauty of the sunset over the distant mountains, just enjoying one another's easy company.

It is squeezing one free hour into a day of studying to run around in a park and kick a soccerball back and forth rather badly. Meeting up every week with people you love just to share dinner together. Sometimes, it is sitting through the same dull lecture every day with someone and occasionally rolling your eyes at each other.

Making a new meal you've never made before, wearing an outfit that makes you feel fancy. Dropping all your worries for a few minutes to help someone out.

Running across a new flower!

These things might not seem like adventure. My life hardly feels very exciting when I spend a whole week cloistered in the library writing page after page of essays. And individually they might not be worth writing home about, but life is made up of a billion tiny little parts that make it so. One small event--sharing a joke with a stranger, getting to pet a new dog--can unexpectedly make you soar.

Life, of course, is an adventure. . . what was yours today?

Nothin, just sniffin around. . .

Climbing Update!

              Climbing--it requires skill, athleticism, coordination and motivation, all things that I'm pretty generally lacking. . .
              So why do I enjoy it? I'm certainly not naturally good at it.

Climbing Classic Crack

       Deep, philosophical answer: because it's fun! Such a thrill rush. I've been making tons of time for it lately. Out of the last three days, I climbed . . . uh, all three days. Whoops. Well I found myself some climber friends with the know-how and willingness to instruct me in it, so I'm taking advantage of it while the getting's good (I'm such a good person).

Lead climbing: means you can't hang around like this.

        I bring this up now because yesterday I did my first lead climb! A few months ago lead climbing was inconceivable to me, so it means quite a lot. (Lead climbing, as opposed to top roping, means that as you climb you're attaching yourself to bolts on the rock as you go, leaving a lot more space in between draws to fall if you do slip). There's a lot more possibility of getting hurt . . . and you don't have the rope to lean your weight on and take a rest partway up if you need it. You just gotta go, go, go for it.
      And now I can say I've done my first one! Ah, life. And my "instructor" cooked me a steak dinner afterward in congratulations. (Seems a little backward to me but I'm not complaining). It's not just the climbing of course, but the company that comes along with it . . .
     So I guess the moral here is, even if you suck at something, the real question is whether you enjoy it. And if you do enjoy it, then damn, go for it. Go on and cheerfully, bravely, suck at it until you don't anymore.

Mooooose! (And boys)

           Okay, I'll start off by disappointing you and saying those two things aren't related. I'm just excited because I had a moosemeat casserole with the siblings yesterday.
                                                        Moose + casserole = awesome.

www.sardinereport.com

www.simplyrecipes.com

                          +            







 Anyways, yeah. I'm writing this from the laundromat as my clothes tumble around in the dryer, just having finished my Stats homework. I'm beginning to (sickly) enjoy this sort of thing. Sitting in coffee shops, laundromats, working on assignments. In particular, I'm beginning to enjoy laundry days, despite the fact that they slowly drain my hard-earned cash, because you feel accomplished just for sitting there while a machine does the hard labor. Oh yeah.
       All right--the dudes. I never figured I'd do a blog post relating to this. But lately I am fighting my womanly guilt for not wanting to find a hand-holding partner with whom to hold hands with forever until we die (that's the way it works right?).
     I know that's entirely ridiculous, but you must admit, growing up watching Sleeping Beauty over and over doesn't exactly instill modern, progressive values in a girl. Although the societal pressures that have led to this guilt of mine is a different rant entirely.
      But the truth? The truth is I want the freedom to go wherever I want, do whatever I want, WITH whoever I want. No matter what anyone says, having a serious partner will change that. Everyone says my attitude is fine because of my age, and yet most everyone that I know (who is roughly my age) proclaims they don't want to date, and then start dating someone a week later.
    I think the answer to all this, as it has been from the start, is: cat lady. I better start buying ugly sweaters and smelling like kitty litter (despite not having a cat). It is, after all, my destiny. 

  :P

Hitchhikin' Through Life

          The summer may be over, and the drudge of school has begun, but the adventures continue! For the second time, I went rock climbing outdoors (not to mention, somehow found myself walking out of the Trailhead with a new climbing harness. Oops.)
         If ever you reach a point of incredible stress in your life and just need a release, take up climbing. There is nothing quite like it. All your buzzing thoughts and worries vanish when you're high up in the sky clinging to a rock, needing to focus on your every move. Not to mention, I've made some new climber friends (making friends yay!) which is of course, always awesome.
        I also managed to kick a few things off the bucket list this weekend, including:
        1) Backpacking! Crazily enough, I spent all summer out in the woods but never did go backpacking. I went with three very good friends, in Glacier National Park of all places. We swam in the chilly waters of Gunsight Lake, danced with mountain goats in the sunset, and threw snowballs at each other on the high talus slopes. It was an amazing, breathtaking (sometimes literally, as we climbed over a mountain pass) experience.

     2) Hitchhiking. We got down to the end of the trail and discovered that the park shuttle was no longer running, and stuck our thumbs out. I felt a little ridiculous at first, but I didn't think it would be a problem--my friend Jeremy and I looked like pretty harmless youths, our giant packs giving us an air of legitimacy, so I thought. It was only 20-30 minutes before we got picked up, but that time span felt like forever, as we knew that if we didn't get picked up it was another 11 miles of walking to go. At last, we were saved by a lovely Canadian woman doctor.
          So much for helping out your fellow Americans, you entitled, wealthy white assholes. (Not that I'm bitter). Jody, thank you so much, wherever you are. I learned a good lesson from this one though--you never know when you're going to be the one stranded at the side of the road. Do a person a good turn whenever you can.

    3) Riding a motorcycle over Going to the Sun road. I've wanted to do this ever since I first went up Going to the Sun in a car. Let me tell you. It absolutely cannot compare to doing it on a bike. I rode pillion behind Jeremy on his bike, so I was free to just look. And I did. My eyes were bloodshot from the wildfire smoke afterward, and I was sore as hell from hiking 22 miles and then sitting in one cramped position on the back of the bike. But it was soooo worth it.

         The real adventure of the trip? Getting to do all this with good friends at my side. We signed the hiker register at Sperry Chalet "Happiness is only real when shared."