Gasp, wheeze, gasp....Is that an inhaler in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?

If you read my blog about escaping from Canada then you know that we were vacationing in Montana. I think it’s called Big Sky Country. Or maybe that’s another state, I’m not sure. But it is very beautiful.

We saw tons of wildlife. Mountain goats, rams, moose, grizzly bears, chipmunks, ground squirrels and some sort of animal that looks similar to a beaver but I can’t remember it’s name.

And even though Montana is beautiful, the accommodations in the National park were less comfortable than how I would imagine a prison cell to be.

The overhead light sported a bulb in the 3 watt range and had the dim, dingy yellow cast one would expect in an insane asylum built at the turn of the century. It was designed to turn the merely insane into the criminally insane.

If you’ve ever stretched out on a sidewalk then you know what the beds felt like. And they were covered with sheets in the luxurious thread count range of 30 or 40. If the wind and sun hadn’t already exfoliated the top 3 layers of your skin off, the sheets certainly would.

The shower was smaller than an average coffin on end and had two water temps. Freezing and boiling. Take your pick because you can’t have both.

I nearly died the first day we were there. Hubby wanted to hike up the side of a mountain. A very STEEP mountain. The path was about 20 inches wide with a sheer drop. I’m not a hiker and have never dreamed of being one. But anyway, up the side of the mountain we all go. I’m gasping and wheezing, sucking on my inhaler every few steps. I have a walking stick, which sounds helpful, except that it’s one of those expandable/retractable kind and it keeps trying to retract into its 2 foot length.

Hubby, who is ever so helpful, keeps reminding us to ‘make noise so that the Grizzly bears will be scared off.’ I’m beginning to wonder if we’re scaring them off or just making it easier for them to locate their lunch.

Hubby also keeps pointing out how beautiful everything is, the flowers, the waterfalls, the trees.

Hubby -- “Look! See that waterfall over there? And that one 5 feet to left of that one and the one 3 feet to the left of that one? And that one right above us and that one over there? Aren’t they beautiful?”

Me -- gasp, wheeze, “Uh—uhhhh.”

Hubby -- “Hey, look! There’s another one! And see those 3 over there?!”

Me -- gasp, wheeze, gasp.

Hubby -- “Did you see that waterfall down there?!”

Me -- gasp, “Uh—uhhh,” gasp.

I can barely breathe. There’s no air up in those mountains. My vision is turning black from the lack of oxygen. I’m sure that my body is starting to shut down from oxygen deprivation and my darling hubby is going on and on about the waterfalls. If I had enough breath left to actually speak I’d say, “Yes! I see the *^$# waterfall! You can’t swing a dead cat around here without hitting a freakin’ beautiful waterfall!!!!!”

We FINALLY get to the top. Although it’s not really the top because the trail is closed off part way up due to avalanches. (Thank goodness.) So we get as far up as we can and sit down on some rocks to eat the snacks we’d brought. (FYI: There’s no Starbuck’s up there. Anywhere.)

And the ground squirrels around there are BRAVE! Not afraid of humans (or partially dead humans in my case) at all. They run right up to anyone with food. I nearly had to wrestle my cheese puffs away from one of the little buggers.

And as we’re sitting there and hubby is euphoric with the scenery and the wildlife and the *&^%* waterfalls, I realized something.

We have to walk ALL THE WAY BACK DOWN that stupid MOUNTAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!