Turkey Day in Montana

I decided to kick off my holiday at midnight. Went out for a smoke and realized the gibbous moon was shining bright off the snow. A clear night in winter is rare in these parts -- usually nighttime is reserved for clouds and snowfall. I had read an article about some comet in the northeast sky, so I thought I would take a gander. Problem is there was a big mountain in my northeast sky. Wearing my trusty corduroy coat, I determined I needed to see this damn comet. And so I started a small hike.

At this point it was a mere 5 degrees (F, roughly -15 C), no big deal for a mountain man like myself. As I ascended the hillside, the snow was sparkling like an old man's eyes at the thought of a childhood sweetheart. Compelled by the beauty of the night, I continued up to the ridgeline. However, I had not planned on this moonlit escapade. I had planned on a five minute smoke. Wearing pajama bottoms, sneakers, a long sleeve T and my trusty cord jacket, I pressed onward, oblivious to the cold that was biting my ears. After 30 minutes I made the line and glimpsed to the northeast sky. While I could make out something nebulous, I remained unconvinced that I was contemplating cometness. I pressed on.

Why I pressed on I'm not sure. I was sweating and freezing simultaneously. My lungs were burning from the cold. My eyes were frozen in place. My runny nose had become caked with icesnot. the moon was not going to get less dim (thereby giving me better comet viewing). The extra height was not going to put me any closer to the comet. And yet still I climbed.

When i reached the summit of the hill I was left with two choices. Go over the hill and down into the canyon or return home. Had I brought my trusty sled, I might have descended into the canyon. But I couldn't imagine going downhill twice, I would become a popsicle for sure. So I glimpsed to the northeast sky once more and started the trudge back to my little cabin. The descent, while less taxing on the body, was a great challenge on the mind. I was frozen solid. By the time I got back, it was 2am. The thermometer read -5 (that's -20C). I cranked on the electric blanket, made some tea and stood by the embers of a now decrepit fire. And then I realized something. I never got my smoke.