Post #3: Big Sky Country—Bozeman, MT

After five days of driving, I reached my first official destination: Bozeman, Montana. As I neared the city driving on I-90, I gazed in awe at the giant mountains backlit by the setting sun’s orange glow. Growing up in Vermont solidified a special place in my heart for the mountains early on, and no one can ever convince me that there is any other type of scenery more beautiful. Looking at the Bridger Range that night, I doubt many people would have argued otherwise.

My friend Ben lives in Bozeman and despite being a year older than me, he is still in college at Montana State due to—not that I can blame him!—focusing more on skiing and biking than on classes. We’d gone to the same schools growing up, and our parents are still close—we’re all avid skiers and outdoor enthusiasts, so have spent much time embarking on wild adventures together. Right around the same time I showed up in Bozeman, Ben’s dad, Ted, and older sister, Chelsea, flew in. Upon discovering that I was car camping and not staying in a hotel, they immediately insisted that I crash in the spare room in Ben’s apartment on an air mattress, as Chelsea was doing. Before I knew it, I’d been ‘adopted’ into their family for the time I would stay in Bozeman.

The next few days were spent skiing at Bridger Bowl, the local ski resort. This was no beginner mountain, and we even had to wear beacons in order to ride the uppermost lift. From there, we would hike up to the ridge—highest point just over 9,000 feet above sea level—and across until reaching one of the many chutes running down the side of the mountain. Fortunately for us, there was little risk of avalanche while skiing there; normally, however, we would’ve had to be more careful, as much of this terrain is fairly high-risk for avalanches in other snow conditions. Additionally, avalanches normally only occur on 35-45º pitches, and much of what we skied was actually even steeper.

I remember looking back up at a section I had just skied down and having to crane my neck nearly as far as I could in order to see the top of the ridge; it was so steep that if I put my arm out straight it would nearly touch the slope I’d come down. After one such run, Chelsea and I even ended up on Bridger Bowl’s video of the day for March 10, having ended up skiing almost an entire run with the resort’s videographer. When I showed my mom, I think she nearly had a heart attack (hence why I waited until we were all done skiing for the week!).

Apart from all the time spent skiing, we also went to a hot yoga session (I hadn’t realized the ‘hot’ part, so what a surprise!), explored Bozeman while Ted insisted on taking us out for dinner every night, and went to my first bar (four months after turning 21—thanks covid) with Ben’s college friends. One day, we even loaded into a car to drive to Yellowstone’s Mammoth Hot Springs, where the sulfurous stench of steam rising from the blue and yellow springs encompassed the boardwalks we stood on; on our way back, hordes of elk blocked traffic, stepping right up next to the car as we drove by—of course I did not bring my camera!

As I drove towards my next destination of Jackson, Wyoming, I wondered at how friendly and outgoing everyone I’d met in Bozeman had been. Although I certainly know similar people here in Vermont, I was amazed at how accommodating every single person I’d met was; they’d all been happy to welcome me into their group as though I’d always been there. Each one of them seemed to derive their ‘spark’ from being highly involved in the outdoors, whether through their majors, backcountry skiing, or some other extreme sport. Over the course of my road trip, Bozeman’s “get outdoors” culture was just the first of many examples showing how paramount nature and the outdoors is for a person’s wellbeing—it certainly is for my own!