Lymph Living

This weekend I drove the Beartooth Highway. The plan was to spend the night camping in the Beartooth Mountains, but Mother Nature had other ideas.

At around 11,000 feet, you’re above the tree line, and you become the tallest thing around- not exactly where you want to be when lightning starts cracking across the sky.

This weekend was really meant to be a test.

The Beartooths are one of my favorite places on earth. Before lymphedema, I camped and backpacked there several times, sometimes staying five days at a time. But I haven’t spent a single night there since developing lymphedema.

High elevation definitely affects my arm.

During the day I can wear my heavy compression garments, but at night I switch to my nighttime garments, and they simply don’t provide the same level of compression. My plan was to try one overnight trip. If everything went well, great. If not, no big deal- I could always drive down the mountain. This wasn’t a backpacking trip. Just car camping with an easy escape plan.

We drove to Red Lodge to begin our adventure. Like much of Montana right now, it was hotter than Hades. It was 94 degrees, and we stopped for lunch at a little restaurant that didn’t have air conditioning.

Normally that wouldn’t be my idea of fun, but I ran into one of my favorite high school teachers, and we had such a wonderful visit that it made the stop completely worthwhile.

Still… lymphedema hates heat, and honestly, so do I.

We didn’t stay long. I was excited to start climbing the Beartooth Highway and watch the temperature drop.

With every mile we climbed, the outside temperature dropped another degree or two. By the time we reached the top of the pass, it was 64 degrees.

It felt like heaven.

And there were these adorable little guys everywhere.

Then everything changed.

The rain started.

The wind picked up.

The sky turned black.

And… well… you know the rest.

We decided camping wasn’t the smartest idea, so we continued down the mountain instead. Once the rain let up, we stopped for a short hike to a waterfall I used to visit with my kids when they were little. It brought back a lot of good memories.

After the hike, we continued down the pass and spotted these guys.

Not the best picture, but it was a mama grizzly with two cubs.

That alone made the trip worthwhile.

From there we drove through Yellowstone’s Lamar Valley on our way home.

I didn’t get great photos, but these friends were everywhere.

We rolled down the windows, listened to the bison grunting back and forth, and enjoyed the dinner we’d packed in the cooler.

Not long after that, another storm rolled in, and we drove the rest of the way home through heavy rain and lightning.

When I finally got home, I sat on my covered deck and watched the rain for a while.

My hand was definitely paying for the day’s adventure. It was super puffy.

But just before I went inside to use my compression pump, the rain stopped, and I looked up.

A double rainbow.

It felt like the perfect ending to the day.

Was it the overnight camping trip I’d planned?

No.

Was it a perfect day for my lymphedema?

Definitely not.

But it was a perfect reminder that living with lymphedema doesn’t mean giving up the places I love. It just means I have to plan a little differently, listen to my body, and sometimes change course when life- or the weather- has other plans.

The Beartooths will still be there.

And next time, I’ll try again.