The Forest Is Afire.

As of yesterday the so-called Red Rock Fire - a wildfire started by lightning in the Gros Ventre Range about a week ago - had spread to over 6700 acres.  

Wow.

The valley has been covered by reddish smoke in the mornings for the last few days.  The thickest haze appeared on Wednesday.  This is the valley from Teton Pass at about 8am that morning:

Later in the day the haze dissipated, but the plume of smoke over the Sleeping Indian, or Sheep Mountain, remained:

Pretty cool to see, huh?

Good Ole Mon-tucky.

Really, Montana is not much like Kentucky (not that I have spent much time in Kentucky, but I think it's kind of like Georgia with a more bright green countryside).  But for some reason Ben has taken to calling Montana Montucky.  Like any catchy nickname it has totally stuck in my mind, but I got several weird looks this summer and last summer when I said it in front of the girls.

Montana marked the beginning of my summer with Alpengirl; from there my co-guide Sophia and I flew to Alaska, then to Hawaii, for the trips that I posted about earlier.  What a huge shift in climates and landscapes!  The Montana trip, with its focus on photojournalism, got my creative juices flowing for the rest of the summer.

Practicing macro photography

Making a big, healthy salad with the cook crew

Canoeing, and showing off our best whale breech reenactments, on the Henry's Fork of the Snake River

Montucky sunset

Contrast and color

Finding our way...

Teaching the fire skill bead girls to make their own fire

The last day of backpacking in the Tobacco Roots

Ode to Maggie the Bride.

This comes a bit late in lieu of my recent travels, but all summer I've looked forward to dedicating a post to my cousin, Maggie, who married Chris Bradford in June in Atlanta.  

The wedding called for a quick but wonderful visit.  Alley (my bestest cousin and friend) and I drank wine and reminisced about how, ever since she exited the womb and entered our lives, we've thought Maggie was the coolest of the cool:  she is someone whose affection has always been sought after.  And so we wrote this ode to the one, and only, Margie:

Ode to Maggie the Bride, 

by The Cousin Clan

Today we rehearsed the wedding of Maggie and Chris,

But little do you know, we’re all quite ready for this.

With binky for a veil and Grayton beach as an aisle,

We’ve practiced cousin weddings for quite a while.

“Which cousin will be first?” we wondered all our life,

But Grandma Betty always knew Maggie’d be the first to be a wife.

Maggie, Mags, Margie, and Twin Toes,

Us cousins have always followed her wherever she goes.

She always found the most Easter eggs and was Susan’s art camp protégé,

She’s really good at everything, despite her middle name:  Fayhey.

We envied her newt-finding skills and her extra large Seaside shirts,

As well as her quiet charisma and the way her dad called her Squirt.

From wearing silly hats to waitressing in the Lanning House pub

To building forts for the mysterious CAJAM River Club,

Margie always concocted surprising plans of her own,

Not unlike flushing Stephen’s head in the commode.

Beach plays were the best, from Phantom of the Opera to The Lion King,

We even did musicals, made up dances...and tried to sing.

Us cousins had a blast and charged a mandatory fee,

Our parents complied and watched, but knew that actors we would never be.

Once we outgrew our theatrical acting days,

One by one we each moved onto another phase.

So off to Athens Maggie went, where we snagged her for Phi Mu,

And in no time at all, Chris had started to pursue.

Through date nights and tailgates, Maggie played it cool,

But Chris never gave up:  he’s nobody’s fool.

Once they both moved to Atlanta, Maggie realized Chris was a keeper,

And over the last few years, we’ve watched their love & devotion grow deeper.

So Chris, we know first hand that Maggie is quite the catch,

But once you entered the picture, we knew she’d met her match.

Maggie, calling you cousin has always filled us with pride,

And tomorrow will be no different, with you as the beautiful bride.

Now, Chris, on behalf of the entire cousin clan,

We couldn’t wait to tell you:  welcome to the fam.

I assisted my friend Abby Bullock Smith in photographing the wedding:  click the images for a larger view.

Two generations of fashionistas:  my mom and my grandmother, Betty.
Doesn't my mom look like she's about 35 and hitting the gym every day??
Can I please have those genes?  Fortunately my mom didn't spend
the better part of her 20's getting wind-burned at high altitude.  Sigh.

Adding the final touches.

Margie:  can you ever forgive me for posting this?

Margie and her bridesmaids:  what a stunning crew!

My friend & photographer Abby capturing Maggie & Rebecca;
the arches and walkways at this church are so beautiful.
It's a super special place for my family and me:  I hadn't been back since Alley & I
gave our grandfather's eulogy 4 years ago.  I am sure PauPaul was there too,
watching the first of many weddings to come.

Maggie and little sister Rebecca.  They could be twins in this picture.

Off she goes with Bec and Stephen.

I love this picture, mainly because of the memory it holds.  Click on it to blow it up -
the light was perfect and everyone was quiet.  Our camera shutters clicked away, echoing, and the church organ played, muffled by the gigantic wooden doors, in the background;
it was the last moment behind the scenes before the wedding party walked down the aisle.  

I was crying like a baby behind my camera at this moment,
alone with my tripod in the balcony.

And now, says Rebecca, PARTAY TIME!

Flower petals to throw at the newlyweds...I apologize to all of
the victims of my flash during my drunken state.

Fortunately Carter didn't mind the flash:  looking brilliant and professional, per usual.
And that's Anna, whom I'll be joining in Indonesia in T minus ONE MONTH
 (cannot contain my excitement...)

Did that really just happen?  It's already over?

Happy Baby.

One of the most beautiful things I've witnessed in the last year is one of my best friends - Abby - falling in love with a new man in her life:  her & Gene's little baby Reed.  This portrait sesh was one of the highlights of a great visit to Georgia in June.  Hanging out with Reed has become one of my favorite pastimes (hint hint: Abby, get your butt out to Jackson this fall).

Click on the photos for a larger view of the overwhelming cuteness.

Captain Basil witnessed it all.

Scratching the Surface of Alaska.

I could hardly wrap my head around the monstrosity that is Alaska:  the rivers are huge, there are turquoise lakes everywhere, the mountains are gargantuan, the weather is unforgiving, the forests are Avatar-esque, and the bugs and bears are bigger and badder than anywhere I've been.

I loved it, yes; I loved it because it humbled me and kept me on my game and made me want to return again and again to remember just how tiny we are in this big world.  Alaska is undoubtedly the last frontier.  You could set up shop in one of its many mountain ranges and no one in a 100-mile radius would give a damn, but you'd better be ready for 24 hours of darkness in the winter, 24 hours of daylight in the summer and the biggest mosquitos alive in the northern hemisphere.

I couldn't help but look around at every mountain we passed by (that would be thousands, as they line every highway and surround every body of water) and wonder what it'd be like in the wintertime:  a winter wonderland, I'm sure, and a skier's greatest dream come true.

Click on the photos below for a larger view.

Kenai Lake on the Kenai Peninsula near Seward - the start and end of our backpack. 

Above our campsite by Lost Lake...the colors and views were incredible. 

Along the Lost Lake trail. 

Taking off into Prince William Sound from Whittier; beginning our sea kayaking trip. 

Sea stuff!  The sound is FULL of amazing plants & animals, especially the ones that pop up on the beaches at low tide. 

Watching the sun trying to set - but never really setting - after putting the kayaks "to bed." 

St. Lawrence Glacier in Blackstone Bay. 

There's my cheesy guide pose next to St. Lawrence Glacier.

Returning to camp just before midnight after paddling toward the calving glaciers in Blackstone Bay.

Counting Backwards. Hawaii, How Do I Love Thee? Let Me Count The Ways.

Hawaii is the most recent destination, the most fresh in my mind.  As I go through my pictures I can hardly believe the last Alpengirl trip has come and gone.  From Waipio and Waimanu Valleys to Volcano National Park; from surfing and snorkeling to staying on the farm of my dreams near Hawi, we made a big circle and criss-crossed the Big Island, seeing many of the different microclimates that exist there.

The wet side bursts with greens and gigantic trees and fruits and waterfalls; the dry side is a black desert, covered with volcanic rock and dry yellow grass; and the higher altitudes took me back to Alaska:  cold enough to see your breath at night.

Let me count just a few of the ways in which I love Hawaii (click on photos for a larger view):

I love Hawaii for its sunsets and sunrises, its sea turtles and warm nights; 

I love Hawaii for its varied terrain and the pristine Waimanu Valley;

for the lush rainy side of the island, the fruit and nut trees, the pigs and birds and marine life;

the beaches and the happiness they instill; 

the landscapes around Hawi that are so beautiful they almost seem eerie;

the abundance of life, of fruit, of animals and plants;

the "cowboy country" that still thrives in the mountainous interior;

and the amazing, welcoming hosts who shared their homes and traditions with us.