On August 20, 2002, Kris' birthday, his parents and a group of friends traveled to Upper Holland Lake, Montana to fulfill Kris' request that his ashes be sprinkled there.
You may ask why the name "Stealth Sprinkle"? In this day and age, permits are needed for just about everything. I knew deep in my heart that Kris would have been very annoyed with me if I had even investigated obtaining one. So, I chose not to know the official regulations.
While I am proud to follow the rules that society imposes upon its members, this one
time I listened to my heart and Kris’ request. The Rangers from Ft Benning assured me
that if I landed in jail, they would come get me out. Our mission was
accomplished just the way I believe that Kris would have envisioned when he
wrote simply "sprinkle my ashes at Upper Holland Lake."
Upper Holland Lake is a small body of water ringed by pine tree covered mountains. There is a seven mile, 2000 foot climb trail from Lower Holland Lake near Condon, MT to reach this remote but well used area. Pack mule teams and horseback riders climb the trail to access the back county of the Bob Marshall Wilderness.
The horse groups going in must be off the trail by noon in order to let the horses coming out use this one-way trail system. There is no real area to pass since the sides of the trail drop off steeply. Hikers must climb down off the trail in order not to spook the pack animals over the edge. It was mostly loose dirt with stones, boulders and horse "green apples". After the first hour, we did not care what we were stepping on.
For most of Kris’s friends the "operation" started Sunday morning August
18 as we assembled at the trailhead near Lower Holland Lake. Several of us were quite new
at this type of trek into the woods, and a little nervous as to the outcome. 
Would
we be up to the task and live to tell the tale? Did we pack too much or forget something
important? We relied on the expertise of Luke and Andy to give us guidance.
Finally after months of preparation, we stepped on the trail at 10 am. It was obvious from the start that we all had different styles of walking and naturally separated into three groups. The first and fastest group consisting of Ric (my son) and Matt, we called "Bear Bait". When they came to a fork in the road, they would use it as a good excuse to rest and wait for Luke or the topographic map in mom’s pocket to verify the correct direction.
The next group that formed was the "Granny Group". I was very proud to be the
leader of this group, hence the name. That
way I knew I
would not be left behind as "a really great mountain lion lunch". My co-trekkers
were Tracy, Erik, and Dick, wonderful company for me and, thankfully, they did not leave
me in their dust.
The last group was made up of the experts: Andy, Luke, and Emily. They were our lifelines. Their job was to run back down the trail and call 911 if they found any of us leaning up against tree unable to speak or blink.
Luke’s dog, Rogue, was a part of all three groups since he forged ahead and then doubled back to make sure Luke was still coming. This behavior went on the entire length of the trail. He passed us over and over again, coming and going. He must have done the trail six times over to our one struggle and then was ready to play fetch when we reached camp.
Thirty minutes into the climb of what seemed like a 75% incline, we were treated to a wonderful view of Lower Holland Lake. Heavy breathing, and major questions raging in our minds –"What have I gotten myself into?"
After many rest stops and great giggles, we persevered and reach Upper Holland Lake at
three in the afternoon. There we 
had one of
our greatest laughs at the best inside joke, courtesy of what someone remarked about
Kris’ last request: "What was he
thinking when he chose such a remote spot?"
We fell in love with this cool dark green oasis in the middle of the mountains. Kris and Luke had visited this spot in early May a few years back while the snow was still eight feet deep. Kris made note that it would be a wonderful place to bring a group of friends for a weekend camping visit.
We made our way around the lake to a clearing near the shoreline looking southwest. In
the warm afternoon sun, we sat at the edge of the lake and ate MRE’s (Meals Ready to
Eat). They were a reminder of
Kris’
Ranger buddies who were in Afghanistan and could not be with us. After eating my MRE, I
made a mental note to send the boys some ‘real’ food as soon as I got home.
We set about to pitch our tents and gather firewood. Some took naps. Ric and Andy did some evening trout fishing. That night Luke and Andy treated us to "performance art". A primitive method of fire starting, involving two sticks was performed with great flair and received favorable applause.
Luke and
Andy told a story about how Kris was able to make smoldering embers on one pass of the
twirling stick. We all laughed and speculated that by next year, the story would be
embellished that all "Old Sage Fire Maker" Kris had to do was look at the sticks
and sparks would appear.
That first campfire night was filled with special stories about Andy’s recent close encounter with a mountain lion, cigar smoke, and toasting marshmallows. We all deserved our sound sleep that night.
The following morning the campfire was ignited by a different method, a bit of bug spray and a Bic lighter. Andy was far too cold from sleeping on his primitive pine needle bed with just a wool blanket to mess around with a prehistoric method.
Later that morning, a few of us ventured on what we are convinced was "way more
than the mile and half the trail marker 
sign
proclaimed" to Sapphire Lake. The view back to beautiful Upper Holland Lake took our
breath away. Or maybe it was the extra 1000 feet climb that made us gasp for the thin air.
Some decided to take a very cold swim when we returned to camp. I was just glad to pour some cold water on my head and soak my feet. Rogue was again eager to play if you would just throw the stick, ball or rock into the lake for the next three hours. Rogue’s eyes and stare always sucked us in for just "one more" throw.
After following our "bread crumb" orange trail flag markers, Erin, Brian, and Dave joined us at camp later that Monday afternoon. Just as dusk was settling in, a burst of energy called J.C. came into our campsite. He had us all beat by doing the seven mile- 2000 foot climb in just 1 hour and 45 minutes. I can see why he and Kris were great friends, having fun physically competing against each other in their ROTC training.
That night we passed and smoked the pipe Andy had made for Kris. Kris had sewn a deerskin pouch to store the pipe, his tobacco mix, and three owl’s feathers symbolizing his friendships. It was a quiet time for all of us to reflect.
Special items were carefully placed in the pipe bag. Charcoal from Kris, Luke and
Andy’s campfire at the Rattlesnake
shelter site, two eagle feathers, elk teeth, and my memory bracelet were some of the many
symbols contributed. Luke and Andy were preparing a special tribute for our scattering
ceremony the next morning August 20th Kris birthday.
The next morning around 10:30 the "horse people" joined us. Kris’ Dad, Aunt Linn, cousin Rick, and Harvey took the ‘western’ way to come up a mountain. After the dogs stopped barking at these new arrivals and they got their land legs back, we headed off to a beautiful large rock on the west side of the lake.
It was the first time any of us had been on this particular rock feature since two campers had occupied this area until just that morning when they broke camp and left. We knew from our camp’s vantage point that this rock formation would be the special place we sought to honor Kris.
We kept it simple. We played the three songs Kris wanted: Lighting Crashes, All My Colors, and Dance with You. Then Kristofor’s Song started to play and we began to sprinkle his ashes. There are no words in any language to adequately describe the care and respect with which we fulfilled Kris’ last wish.
After every one had finished, my son Ric sprinkled the last of the remains. Just as he
finished, the Bare Naked Ladies song 
"Never
is Enough" started to play. It seems more than appropriated and brought a smile
to all who knew Kris’ irreverence for the usual things people value.
Ric read a letter from Dana, which brought a smile as we envisioned Baby Kristofor, Camrin and Dereck back home eating Chocolate cigars and drinking their version of Guinness—Coke Cola, just as Uncle Kris had requested.
Then the real comic relief began. Luke explained the next part of ceremony would involve taking Kris’ pipe bag out to the deep part of the lake and letting it go to rest on the bottom. As Luke, Andy, and J.C. cautiously walked themselves down on the slipper rocks into the very cold water. Luke’s footing slipped first. As he fell into the lake, the others knew there was no turning back now that their friend Luke was already committed to the water. All three swam briskly. As expected Rogue joined in, enjoying that so many people finally decided to come in and play with him.
When the middle was reached, all three held the bag briefly up in the air just before they dropped it into the water. Lucky for them Rogue did not retrieve the pipe or there would have been a repeat of the swim.
All swam safely to shore, warmed up at the campfire. Lunch, pack up, and we were ready to hike out. The "Bear Bait" group decided to race the "horse people" down the trail. J.C., Ric and Matt actually beat them down. The "Granny Group" continued their never faltering "please dear Lord, don’t let me trip" pace. The experienced group must have been relieved to complete this most successful hike with all of us safe and sound.
After a much-appreciated shower, campers and "horse people" all met at Montana Charlie’s for good food ("none of that chow hall shite"), Guinness beer, and "not so" cheap cigars. We did what Kris had requested and then some. We all agreed that our trek to Upper Holland Lake would be one of the most satisfying journeys we will ever make. Kris gave us many great gifts, memories to treasure and most of all friendship.
Mom.