Weddingbee Blog

Our wedding day dawned gray and cold. It had rained the night before, and while the sound of the stream outside had convinced me it was still raining, it was actually dry and partly cloudy. Not ideal, and certainly not 75 and sunny like it had been the previous Saturday, but the best weather we’d seen all week.

(Lake McDonald facing Logan Pass)

I got up at 7AM after a respectable night’s sleep next to Mr. CP—I wouldn’t risk sleeping without him the night before the wedding and ruining my Zs—and went for a nice three-mile run with my MOH, Rachel.

Back at the Lake McDonald Lodge, we had breakfast with many of our guests who had come in on Thursday or Friday.

(Lights hanging from the high ceiling over the Lake McDonald Lodge Lobby)

It was nice to see people but somewhat exasperating to keep being prodded with questions like, “So, are you nervous?” You can only hear that question so many times before you start getting a bit snappy with your responses. People sure know how to breathe down a bride’s neck.

I showered and went to MOH Rachel’s room, where we met the hairdressers. One of the major downsides to staying in park lodging is that you really have to take what you get when it comes to lodging. There often are no suites and being in a wedding doesn’t mean you get an upgrade or discount rate. Rachel’s room was barely big enough to fit us and it was about three times the size of our room, which Mr. CP and his groomsmen were using.

(Me, my three sisters, and our two stylists)

We stuck a shoe in the door (fittingly, a hiking boot) so that the wedding party could parade in and out, and got started prettying ourselves up.

(My sister Allie checks her hair)

My hair took some special work. I wanted a large, crisscrossing chignon, and we had worked out most of the details in my second trial the day before. But we decided to try something new and brave to make my bun biggity… something we heard J-Lo does to her hair to give it “J-Lo booty”: a secret stash of cotton balls, sealed inside pantyhose and bobby-pinned inside the updo.

Yeah, really! I know it looks stupid here but the experiment turned out great in the end, as you’ll see.

As my stylist worked, I had plenty of time to relax and practice my vows:

You can tell from this next photo that I was a bit of a disorganized mess. On the bureau in front of me was all my makeup, faux lashes, ring box… and some 12-year scotch whiskey to nip into my garter flask for later:

My hair started to take shape…

And, just as it was finished, my Oma, Opa, and aunt from Michigan came to the room to greet all of the grandkids and exchange gifts. They’d arrived late the previous evening on the Amtrak all the way from Michigan. That’s a 36-hour trip!

(Oma hugs my sister hello)

(My sisters are curious about what Oma brought me)

Oma brought me several wonderful antiques all the way from home. One of them, a framed photo of my great grandparents on their wedding day, now hangs in the study of our apartment.

Then, it was time to say “see you soon,” and finish the rest of our preparations. More than two hours had passed and it was less than half an hour until our scheduled departure for Polebridge. And that meant it was high time for me to get into my dress.

(Yes, that is a mountain goat up there!)

I had hoped that putting on my dress would be a meaningful moment of transition, where I went from being “just me” to being “a bride”. Thankfully, I think the pictures show it that way. But what I really felt, suddenly, was like this: OH GOD, IT’S ALL HAPPENING SO FAST AND AGH, THERE ISN’T ENOUGH TIME TO APPRECIATE IT ALL!

Story of my life, that.

We crammed about five people plus our photographer into the much smaller room next door where my dress was hiding. I was hauling my dress around, trying to figure out how to get into it and who should help me, while gesturing wildly for some people to leave and others to stay. Mr. CP’s poor step dad was trapped in their tiny bathroom the whole time.

One of my very few regrets about this day is telling some of my sisters to wait in the hall. I didn’t really think how much it would mean to them to be there when I was putting on my wedding dress. I didn’t even think about how much it should mean to me. I wasn’t being reflective; I was being reactive, and hurried, which apparently hurt a few feelings. In retrospect, I very much wish they had all been there to help me, crowded or not.

But into the dress I went…

And my mom zipped up the back…

Time still hadn’t caught up to me yet. I think I look a bit shell-shocked checking myself out in the mirror:

Now, let’s find those boots, my little “cowgirl secret”…

And, what better than a secret inside a secret? Mr. CP’s mom put one Irish coin inside each boot for luck. Why? Well, most everyone is familiar with “Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue”. However, not everyone is familiar with the lesser known fifth part of “a silver sixpence in your shoe”. My MIL had heard different variations of what the correct coin was, and so she gave me one each, a fivepence and a sixpence, and on went my boots!

I put in my earrings and decided to save my necklace as an accessory for during the reception. Finally, I just needed to find someone (with a crochet hook) to button up my dress.

(I love the way my v-back custom alteration turned out! It makes me look super ripped)

Mom met me on the landing above the lobby for a good few minutes of quality time with some buttons:

We shot few bridal portraits amid the rustic kitsch (more of these later) as the boys scurried out the door to catch the first shuttle bus on its way to Polebridge.

About then, I finally remembered to take a breath and soak it all in. The day, the dress, the deer heads, all of it. I think my expression here says, “Holy crap, I’m a bride!”:

Once the moment had passed, I was back to scurrying about, head poking in and out of lodge rooms, gathering things to my bosom like a chipmunk and chattering incessantly:

My MOH, Rachel, was much more organized, checking things off her list in the room and moving them all into bags for transport.

Outside the lodge, the school bus was waiting…

As were my little maids, all in a row…

A last check of the makeup in the mirror of one of Glacier’s Red Jammer shuttles and we were ready to go…

We got on to the bus (which is harder than it looks in a wedding dress)…

(I love my youngest sister and her panda backpack)

And away we went, bumping down the long dirt road to the wedding…

(My sisters and I ham it up for the camera)

Up next, a few photos of the guys getting ready, and Mr. CP “takes the plunge”!

[Credits: All images courtesy of Piknik Studios.]

Previously:

Married in Montana: The Rehearsal