Last October with the wind howling through the canyons making the hike to the M an impossible task with our baby in tow, we got back into our van and drove down the road to another trail, one leading around the side of Mt Sentinel and away from the strongest wind gusts. With our youngest son securely fastened to my husband’s back and fully equipped with his winter coat, double socks, gloves and a beanie we prepared for our last hike up Mt. Sentinel before the snow crept down the mountain and blanketed the trail until spring. As we climbed the steep rocky road to the trail head we took a moment to gaze out over Missoula and marvel at the beauty of our little valley.
“We may not make it to the top today” he said.
“But we should at least be able to make it to the split off before we need to head back for the kids bus” I replied.
Taking an hour in the middle of the day to go for hike is a luxury I could have never dreamed of as a child. To have the freedom to find a place that possesses all the qualities of life I love is just one reason I love this land. In Missoula I have a home, a love for my place in life; something I never thought I’d find. Growing up in the hustle and bustle of the Bay Area in California, you don’t get the same attachment to nature. If it weren’t for long camping trips as a child I don’t know if I would have ever discovered my love for the small town America. It was a long time coming, finding a place to call home; a road of trial and error I would say. Although Missoula may not be my forever home, it has shaped me and helped me define what living truly is.
Stepping out my front door on a cool March morning and breathing that first smell of fresh pine trees after a long winter excites me. The frost may still be beading on my windows and not quite flip flop weather but I find myself looking forward to spring. Mid-March we finally joined the rest of Missoula and bought ourselves bikes. We decided on a Sunday morning bike ride and none of us could wait. The idea of the breeze brushing my face and riding down the tree line streets of Missoula was almost more than I could take. My kids were very excited as well.
“Mom, I just can’t believe it, we are going on a bike ride as a whole family! It’s a dream come true!” my 7 year old daughter states as we eat breakfast Sunday morning.
“I think we should ride down to the river, we haven’t been down there since last fall.” I replied.
As I said the words I pictured the river flowing over rocks along its banks, the white rapids crashing over large boulders at Brennan’s wave. Something I have missed all winter.
“That sounds good. I can’t believe how LONG winter felt this year, it will be nice to get outside and enjoy the weather” stated a very excited husband.
As we rode off on our adventure that Sunday morning it was a little glimpse into what we will be able to enjoy when the weather warms up more. The fresh air blowing at our faces and the sounds of birds and neighborhood dogs as you ride by is so peaceful. Watching the backs of my children as they rode following their dad ahead of them melted my heart. Memories of riding my bike in the mountains as a child crept back into my mind. It was then I realized we were making memories of our own. Since it was such a beautiful day we found ourselves wanting to ride farther, longer, taking what was supposed to be an hour ride and turning it into a five hour ride. We had such a beautiful ride that day, our kids lasting 8 miles with no complaints!
I have always wanted to give my children the opportunity to enjoy the world around them. Something I felt I was missing in the big cities of California. Once I got married I was ready to settle down. Kevin and I both have lived the city life; we made a lot of money and blew a lot of money in our younger days. When we were first married we thought we wanted to settle down in a smaller town. After trying out the first town and not having the experience we wanted we moved back to the city. Then one summer we decided to take a trip up to Montana, my parents had recently moved to Kalispell, Montana and we wanted to visit and check it out for our Anniversary over the 4th of July weekend. We drove the 17 hours straight through, coming up around Flathead Lake while the sun was peaking over the mountains.
“Can you smell all the pines?” Kevin asked
“Do you see that lake, it’s huge! Beautiful, Vegas looks nothing like this!” I replied.
“I could live here.” Kevin stated.
Three weeks later we were once again on the long trek to Kalispell Montana, this time as new residents. We fell in love with what Montana has to offer. I enjoy the peace, beauty and comforts of living in a smaller town. We love the immediate access to nature, camping at our fingertips, lakes within 20 minutes in all directions, and the feel of living outside the hustle of a large town. I still never completely felt at home living in Kalispell and never expected to enjoy Missoula, but after moving to Missoula last January, and experiencing our first spring and summer here along the Clark Fork River, we had fallen in love. To truly appreciate the beauty of life, you have to live it. To truly call somewhere home you have to connect with it, to merely dwell within in a town is not enough, you must become one with it. Finally I have somewhere to call home. Not merely because I dwell here, but because I live here.
