Teary eyes and full suitcases marked the end of my time in Bozeman. It didn’t sink in that I was in my last week for a while, and my packing list suffered because of it. I think it finally sank in when my friend Hallie arrived to road trip back with me. I hadn’t seen her since the last time I went to Iowa. Her arrival hammered home that I truly was leaving.
The hostel was eight strong by the time I left. Some of those people only knew me for a week, some of them knew me for the entire time I was there. No matter what, though, we all celebrated like old friends. We went out, drank, and reminisced on the last few months of my life.
An Ode to Bozeman, Montana
We had our last “Bucket Night” on Main street where the local club, Bar Nine, sold pitchers of mixed drinks for $12. We gussied ourselves up, went out, and danced the night away. Elevated surfaces, drink deals, and great DJs all worked together to ensure a memorable last night on the town. Moreover, it was a great way to introduce Hallie to the culture I steeped in while we were apart.
Though we didn’t exactly want to wake up on time the next day, we somehow managed to. We packed up my car and headed out to main street for shopping and sight-seeing and drove off to one of my favorite places in Bozeman – the Hyalite mountain reservoir.
That was the first time I’d seen the mountains around the reservoir bathed in white snow – it showed me in yet another way that my summer in Montana was coming to an end. I’m not going to lie, they were beautiful. They made me wish I could stick around longer.
We sat on the beach and skipped rocks with blankets wrapped around ourselves until we got hungry. Not willing to give up the view for our stomachs, however, we got a backpacking meal out of my car and fired up my stove to boil the water to reheat them. We watched the sunset with our protein- and carb-packed veggie pad thai until the cold called us back into the car.
We got back to the hostel and talked with my roommates, played games, and planned a movie night that never actually materialized. I had to get up early the next morning to leave, so that meant an early night – asleep before midnight.
That was my last night in Bozeman.
Onward...
The next morning I packed up anything I hadn’t packed yet (minus the damn charger I left behind) and Hallie and I said some labored goodbyes before hitting the road.
Our plan was to drive leisurely through Yellowstone and then spend the night in the Tetons. Once we returned the keys we BOTH mistakenly took with us, we did just that.
The drive to Yellowstone took an hour and a half, and sent us winding through beautiful mountain roads on the way past Big Sky and to the town of West Yellowstone. From there, we entered the park gates.
The plan wasn’t to hang out in Yellowstone all day, but to hit the big sights and move on to what, in my opinion, is a much bigger (and taller) deal than Yellowstone – the Tetons. We tried to see as much wildlife as we could, we hiked the short trail to the Grand Prismatic Spring overlook, and we stopped at the Old Faithful lodge and had some ice cream. Once satiated, we drove south out of the park.
It never gets old to see rocky earth suddenly erupt 7,000 feet high above the prairie, and the third time I saw the Teton range was no exception. If you’ve read this blog for long enough, though, I’m sure you’re well-acquainted with my love for this national park, so I’ll skip the gushing.
We sadly didn’t have time to hike into the range, but we drove the scenic road before it, ate dinner at Mormon Row, and spent some quality time on Shadow Mountain – a small mountain offering secluded views of the range.
We were tired and in need of a warm sleeping bag, but we settled for a campfire to roast a few hot dogs first. We enjoyed the crisp mountain air as it steadily grew colder and our bodies inched closer to the fire. Once our breath turned to steam and we satisfied our stomachs, we crawled into our beds and drifted off to sleep.
I purposely got a campsite as close to the shore of Jackson Lake as possible, so once morning came I was determined to bushwack my way to the water. Hallie and I got together all the supplies needed to make coffee and hiked down.
We boiled water in front of the Teton silhouette and watched the morning fog roll over the lake and through the numerous canyons. The coffee was straight black and had more than its fair share of grounds in it, but it still tasted amazing. Nature always has a way of making you appreciate more.
We packed up camp after breakfast and hit the road again. The next place on our list was the city we were both moving to in a short month and a half: Aspen, Colorado.
Aspen, Colorado
The drive was eight and a half hours long and, once we got out of view from the tallest Teton, it was grass highlands for basically the entire drive. Northwest Wyoming is to die for… but the rest of the state might just make you wanna die.
Just kidding, Wyoming 😉 love ya.
Around an hour out of Aspen, we got to finally see the rise and fall of the mountains people pay so much to live near. We passed Mt. Sopris by Carbondale, then Snowmass, then Buttermilk, and finally Aspen and Aspen Highlands. In the background lay the Elk Mountains and the beautiful Maroon Bells. It was all like a fairytale.
Aspen and pine trees created bright yellow and green patchwork on the side of every mountain and through each valley. The sunset accentuated the already warm colors and provided them with a breathtaking backdrop. It made even the dingy strip mall we ate dinner at seem beautiful.
We admired them for a while, but were also happy to get out of the car and settle in for the night. We meandered to our Airbnb in the Snowmass Village, admiring the sunset and a herd of Elk. We were in our future home, and it felt amazing.
We spent the next day exploring Aspen. We took a scenic drive down the valley between the Aspen and Highland resorts, through to a 5-mile hike we did maybe 2 miles of before the elevation stole our breath. But damn did we get some great views.
We went into downtown Aspen to check out the central hub of our new home. Hallie saw her future boss and coworkers, and I admired the buildings, mountains, and shops filled with things I couldn’t afford.
We took it easy the rest of the night, soaking in the last hours in Aspen for the time being. Weird how we had barely just gotten there and I already knew I would miss it. But, road trips have schedules and Aspen is expensive as hell. So, there wasn’t much to do about this being our last night.
We woke up early the next day to catch a friend for coffee before leaving for Denver. Luckily for us, Colorado’s beauty didn’t stop at Aspen, and we enjoyed the entire drive through the mountains (and past various other, inferior, ski resorts), and landed in Denver where we enjoyed a very cozy Airbnb with the non-negotiable inclusion of a hot tub. We made a small dinner in the house, soaked in the tub for a bit under the night sky, and fell asleep.
The Benefit of Scarcity
With the mountains eventually behind us on the drive back, it sank in that my hometown lay at the end of this trip. It sank in that I’d be living in Iowa again, even if only for a few weeks. It wasn’t a bad feeling either. I looked forward to seeing family and old friends and experiencing the glory of a midwestern fall. We don’t have as many pines and aspens here, but oaks and maples do just fine.
It reminded me that the Midwest is, and always has been for me, a great place to go back to. Anytime I leave, I’m reminded upon returning that there are so many things to appreciate in my hometown. Whether it’s the slightly slower pace of life, the admittedly superior sunsets, and the calm serenity of driving through miles and miles of rolling hills and farmland. It’s something I appreciate more in small doses.
Iowa is and will always be a special place to me, but that gets lost after years of staying here. My hometown becomes something I always want to travel away from, something I get tired of, something that bores me.
It’s easier to appreciate something when you know it’s scarce. And that’s how I felt when I got back to Des Moines. I appreciated waking up in my childhood home, spending time with my parents, and enjoying the city I grew up in because I knew there were only a few weeks I got to.
All the while I’ve been moving forward toward my move to Aspen. I’ve learned where my apartment will be, the lightly insane amount of stuff I need to buy for the ski season, and more about my new job. My room is filling up with new packages, gear scavenged from skiing trips past, and the clothes I’m already packing up into suitcases.
I’m getting into the groove of my life now: beginning, ending, transitioning, and beginning again. Wash, rinse, and repeat.