Dakota and Whitney are skiing on Mount Spokane, while the rest of us sit within the warmth and relative boredom of the lodge. At least we get a good internet connection up here. But I'm feeling a little like a fraud, living today in a virtual world instead of living the mountain. Oh well, I got to see my children ski down the hill and feel the warmth of the sun on my face.
Every time I come to Mount Spokane, I remember some of the old stories. For me, the most important was a prophecy of the coming whites. In the late 1700s, one of the old chiefs came here to grieve and seek evidence of the Creator after losing his son to a terrible illness. He saw the Creator on this mountain, which restored his faith, and then he also received a vision of white men coming from the east. A more ample telling of the story can be found HERE. (Some of the details may be off, but the story is generally accurate).
Today the mountain is covered by skiers, but I still feel the sacred presence all around.