Bozeman, the intro

How do you capture, in a few brief paragraphs, one of the best vacations of your lifetime?

Day 1: Let's just get there!

I learnt the trials and tribulations of travelling as a standby flyer. It went something like this: wake up at 4.30am, rush to the airport for a 7am flight, spend an hour staring nail-bitingly at the 'Standby/Cleared List' on the screen. Find out the flight is full, spend an hour having overbrewed coffee and airport-scrambled eggs. Find another flight, actually in the opposite direction, but with a connection to where we ultimately want to go. The route adds 4 hrs to the journey, but at least it gives hope of ultimately getting there. Just barely squeeze through from the standby list to an assigned seat, scoot onto the plane, find out we're in First class. Heave a sigh of relief, sink exhaustedly into the seat, and when the flight attendant comes around for a drink order, realise that for the first time in our lives, we are quite ready for a glass of wine at 8am.

After an exhausting day of flying, finally arrive at Bozeman, MT, pick up our rental car, make a few wrong turns (due to the navigational dysfunctionalism of yours truly, I concede), finally find the dirt road that winds up the mountain to Pete and Michelle's cabin. Step out onto the deck, give them fond hugs, take in the view, and realise that it was all worth it.

Day 2: The Mountain and Fairy Lake

Off to a relatively energetic start the next morning, we set off with Pete, Michelle and their boys on the five minute hike up to the top of the mountain. Essentially their back yard. As we were heading out the door, Pete grabbed a small spray can and attached it to his belt. "In case we're attacked by a bear," he explained, having caught me eyeing the can dubiously. It did nothing to assuage my nerves that all we had to defend ourselves against the bears was a can of mace.

As it luckily turned out, we didn't run into bears. Well, not that time anyway.

The kids raced up the mountain excitedly. I, in comic contrast, lumbered behind Delta pantingly. "It's the altitude!" I gasped, wondering what excuse I'd have to think up when back in NYC the next week. But suddenly we burst through the thicket, and there we were.

Once we could finally tear ourselves away from the majestic mountaintop scene, we packed ourselves tenfold into the minivan and shuttled off to Fairy Lake. It was a long and winding road, which made my tummy predictably queasy. However, I'm proud to report she's hardened herself since those highschool days of mountainous terrain, and there wasn't a moment of reverse peristalsis.

When we reached the lake, it was a stunning scene which clean took our breaths away. All of us gazed in collective awe at the emerald lake glistening before us. "I know it looks tempting," Michelle warned, "but don't jump in, the water comes from melting snowfall and is freezing."

I can certify she's right, having greedily stuck my arm in despite warnings to the contrary.