To sleep, perchance to dream

So my knee’s been clicking for the past month. It was one of those things that I figured if I just ignored it, it would go away — my version of modern-day medicine.

Well, it didn’t, so I finally went to the doctor and he looked at it and said I had probably torn my meniscus, which, as I understand it, is better than tearing your MCL or ACL or groin (not necessarily in that order).

All I know is that it doesn’t really hurt. Yeah, it gets stiff after awhile, but if you carry a 400 mm lens on your shoulder for 20 years, just about every joint below your neck gets stiff at one point or another.

So I went in and had an MRI, which showed I hadn’t torn my meniscus, but I did have a problem with the big old tendon that holds on my kneecap. Nothing serious, it’s just out of alignment and with some physical therapy and other adjustments, the clicking should go away.

Saved me about $5,000, I figure.

In the meantime, I was trying to get as many miles in as possible, because I figured I had to go under the knife.

The boy and I went out the other day and the sun actually shone, which was a nice change of pace from the driving rain of the past month.

We were going along and I spotted a huge billy mountain goat on a cliff above the trail and decided to get a closer look at him.

We headed up the slope and immediately lost sight of the goat among the cliffs and I was pretty sure he had simply gotten up and gone around the corner.

Just in case, I peeked around the corner and didn’t see the goat, just more cliffs.

I looked up and didn’t see the goat, either.

Then I started peeking over the edge of the cliffs, just in case.

And there was the goat, a good 100 feet below me.

Sound asleep. Dead to the world.

I took a few pictures and then called out to him. He looked up, unimpressed.

We went around another corner and down the slope to get a more flattering look at him. He chewed his cud, stood up, walked around in a circle, threw up some dirt and laid back down again, his long gorgeous hair flowing in the wind.

I took a few photos and left him at his peace.

I wonder what goats dream about when goats dream. I bet they don’t dream about watching a musical where everyone and everything is dressed in bright green except for one woman who has a banana head.

It’s the sort of dream that sticks with you and you kinda keep wondering what the heck it means, if it means anything.

I don’t know if goats dream at all, but I do know dogs dream. Our dog Ginger is a frequent dreamer.

In her dreams I’m pretty sure she’s chasing rabbits or digging up a gopher. She mutters and barks and carries on.

It’s great fun to watch.

Better than a green musical, that’s for sure.

Chris Peterson is the editor and photographer for the Hungry Horse News.