Twenty-four years of March 4ths, and what a collection this date has become. It started simply enough in 2002... waiting for spring, doing laundry, tinkering with website code, and updating schedules. The mundane stuff that somehow becomes precious when you look back at it.
But then the adventures crept in. Snowshoeing near Lolo Peak while accidentally stumbling into local news. Missoula blizzards turning routine rides into survival stories. Road trips through rural Canada with one-handed photography out the window. You know, the usual.
What strikes me is the emotional undercurrent running through these years. In 2011, tears on a top tube before a race weekend, realizing how much people matter. In 2012, sharing the slow journey home with Mo through Teton Valley. By 2013, accidentally becoming a WordPress developer after nuking my own site. Classic.
The later years brought their own textures. Waging war on the 40-hour work week with strategic Togwotee trips. Denting the van and finding peace in a sunset anyway. Quiet poetry by the sea. And most recently, sitting with old photos, trying to find stillness in the chaos.
Maybe that's what March 4th teaches me... life keeps swinging between adventure and reflection, mishaps and gratitude. And the act of documenting it all, messy as it is, becomes its own kind of victory.