Satiation

Pick up the pamphlets at the Spokane International Airport. Read the descriptions of Spokane as "Near Nature. Near Perfect." No lie. They aren't bullshitting you.

Off the beaten path, still mostly undiscovered, the area prouldy serves as the Welcoming Committee to some of the most spectacular and thankfully untrampled scenic jaunts left in North America. While some coastal trend setters dismiss the place as a glorified cowtown, still stuck in the Big Timber, Big Railroad and Mining mentality, others have taken a chance, taken that exit, and never left.

Let the just passing through hold on to their old school mentality. For anyone whose bravely jumped off I 90, and taken a chance on "Spoklahoma, or Spokcompton, or Spokalu"-whatever the dismissive knick name, they find treasure and affordability-and something sorely missing from Seattle, Portland, San Francisco and L A. They find a straight forward, unhyped quality of life that is not measured in three hour commutes, $2400 rents, and crime stats that boggle the mind.

And those are our worst selling points.

For bonus round action we sit convenient to Glacier, Yellowstone, Hell's Canyon, The Wallowa's, The Bitteroots, The Selkirks and the Selkirk Loop. Other areas of interest include Priest Lake, The Pend Oreille Country, The Cabinet's and the Clark Fork Country. Add seven ski resorts within an couple hours drive, over a hundred lakes and some of the most unspoiled backcountry on the continent-and the choices for recreation becomes overwhelming.

Living an ez skip and a jump northeast of the big town of Spokane is like living in yet another world. Forget about traffic, there isn't any. Keep one arm always free, cus you need it to wave at the driver of the rare oncoming traffic. It's not cute or quaint, the wave to those lone passing motorists is just common courtesy and it's a statement of the way things are. The way we'd like them to stay.

See someone you know, you'd like to know, or need to know and there's always a pull off waiting for those hour long, engine idling, catch em up's. They know you by name at the Post Office and at the grocery store and those connections aren't the stifling prison's that most associate with small town living. If anything, they celebrate the reality that connections still exist among neighbors and that accountability has its place in any social construct.

Big words for a former trucker, I know, but I think about this stuff as I am trying to make my way through the world.

Last weekend friends came over from the coast. I wrote about our dinner at "the Squeeze" yesterday. Today I hope some of the pictures tell the story of why I live where I do, and how even in the sadness of the last month-this is the last best place. Need healing? Need a reason to stop and take stock? Need to face your demons? These waters know your reflection and they won't share more than your ready to face. Those big sky dawnings will descend upon your heart and nurture you and lift you up. Those hundred mile views get you out of your head, sharing a perspective that life is too damn short to become bitter and jaded. Or to settle.

I keep telling myself I won't settle. Like a string on my finger, when I wake up in the morning and see sunrise playing leap frog on the Selkirk Crest, I am reminded to embrace the lonliness and longing, because its the only way to appreciate those shared human connections for all that they are worth.

All I can do is acknowledge whatever reality I face and chase those earl;y morning moments to the next heartbeat, the next experience, and hopefully a moment that lasts longer than the last heartfall. Catch and release isn't just for fishing. It's also for healing.

My friends Frank and Kevin seem to get it. Kevin comes from Walla Walla Palouse ranching DNA and Frank, well he's from the rough and tumble mining, big timber world of Wilkerson, Washington. Its a two street town hidden in the shadow of Mt Rainer that's well, still havey on the rough and tumble. I was lucky enough to stand breathless beside them as we looked over the Montana Cabinets. That such a view is only an hour from my front door keeps them coming back. Whether Frank is toting a kyak or pulling his 5th wheel trailer, that bond, that love off all things high country has cemented our friendship. Kevin on the other hand has this quiet steadfastness and this deep well of wisdom, that isn't as much about what is said, as more about what is conveyed through gesture, a look, and a simple assessment of the obvious.

The hum of tires on a road trip, the breath of fresh air at each stop and the act of gazing into the deep knowing waters of Lake Pend Oreille-it is the inspiration for this week and whatever comes next. I can still feel the crisp cool magic of Lake Pend Oreille's "big water", as it captivated us, gifting each shared vantage with a stronger connection. There's something truly inspiring about nature's magic and its power over the heart. And I wouldn't trade all the heartache associated of losing someone to the bright city lights for the moment I knew this weekend.

Not in a New York City Heartbeat.