With the exception of grocery runs, and little spins on the bike around the neighborhood, we haven’t really left the house in weeks (except for scouting missions to my favorite early/and late season dirt roads). Tuesday, we struck gold. Dry dirt. We also saw our first western meadowlarks of 2020, dozens of bluebirds, raptors aplenty, and several pairs of sandhill cranes.
So, when the temperatures hit the high 50’s yesterday, I busted out the drop bar mountain bike and pointed it west for a reunion of sorts. Montana is a windy muddah (especially the east side of the divide), but yesterday was relatively calm, a true glory day; and it was just horses, cattle, gregarious flocks of mountain bluebirds, raptors and dozens of western meadowlarks accompanying me on my long climbs, stream crossings and twisty descents. It was a proper Montana ride indeed.
For me, spring hasn’t officially sprung until you hear your first western meadowlark sing that rhythmic song of fecundity; yesterday’s ride was like a straight up music festival of sorts. Every time I stopped pushing pedals, the melodic song of the western meadowlark filled my ears, and for that (and for dry dirt), I’m grateful.
Ride fast, ride strong, ride safe, ride alone!
With nothin’ but love, mwl
Photo Credit (meadowlark): Theo Stein, USFWS