I’ve never been known for my spontaneity, but when a dear friend called late December to tell me she and her husband would be caretaking the 100-year-old cabins in Montana that we love during the month of January and invited us to come visit, I couldn’t say “yes” fast enough! Set in a breathtaking valley north of Yellowstone and surrounded by spectacular mountains, it’s a place that tugs at my heartstrings, even in the dead of winter.
So Bill and I loaded our pickup with snowshoes, mukluks, down jackets and trusty popcorn popper. We hit the road during our Minnesota sub-zero temps and headed west—something that never fails to excite our spirits. After a day and a half of driving, we finally left the flatlands of North Dakota and began seeing hilly terrain.
We arrived the second night to an open-arms greeting from friends that have spanned decades. We settled in quickly to our little cabin with the the cozy warmth of hand-hewn logs, fur blankets and cowboy furnishings. It was the perfect place to lay our heads in this western paradise.
We awoke the next morning to the sight of mountains through our cabin windows and unseasonably warm outdoor temperatures. We spent the day in Yellowstone, entering through the park’s north entrance. The countryside was sparsely covered in quickly-melting snow. We drove the Lamar Valley and saw elk, deer and pronghorn along the road—none of which were phased by our passing or pausing to photograph. We spotted herd after herd of bison in the north-east portion of the park. At one point we watched as an entire group decided to run and romp through the field in what seemed to be a circular kind of playful dance. And, as if they needed to exert more energy, they then began to stampede down the center of the road in front of us, creating a remarkable spectacle. It was one of those rarely-seen sights that, by itself, would have made the entire trip worthwhile—but the blessings just kept coming.
The next day we ventured north from our cabin and enjoyed some time at Greycliff Mill, having coffee and strolling through their market place, fiber and leather shops and cheese cave. We stopped in Livingston where my husband kindly dropped me off for what has become a road trip tradition—small town thrifting! I had a blast rummaging through the bargain bins of this little town and learning so much about their culture in the process. The best part was scoring the perfect “new” soup ladle and a down jacket that fit me to a tee! And, yes, being from Minnesota, I feel entitled to another down jacket even though I may already have half a dozen. With a squeaky-clean truck (car-washing was my husband’s treat during my shopping) and a few deals in hand, we were having another great day.
Dinner with our friends that evening was the right blend of good food, long talks and great laughter. Moments melted quickly into hours. It was good to catch up.
We spent the morning of our final day out west sipping coffee and sitting on our cabin porch gazing at the mountains and listening to the nearby stream and the chirping sounds of birds. Nothing in those moments could have been more ideal and we were content to be together in that place.
We planned to meet our friends that afternoon at a nearby hot springs. But after arriving we noticed a sign that read, “Closed for Plumbing Problems.” Our hearts sank until a kind-looking woman, who we later discovered was the manager, approached our vehicle. We asked if the springs were truly closed and explained our disappointment since we had come from Minnesota hoping to take a dip. She could not have been nicer and quickly explained that the plumbing issue had to do with the changing house and, if we were willing to change in our vehicles, we would be welcome to enjoy the springs and have the place essentially all to ourselves. We were overwhelmed by her gracious generosity and we thanked her profusely, especially after she refused to let us pay! We soaked in those steamy mineral waters amidst some light snow in the air. Gazing at the surrounding mountains, we felt every muscle in our bodies unwind and relax. It was a balm for both body and soul. Another memorable gift on this trip. One for the books.
Leaving this morning meant another two-day trip back home. The sun bathed our rustic cabin in a golden glow that made it even harder to leave. We said goodbye to our friends, to the mountains and our cabin home-away-from-home and set our sights on the long road ahead.
Not too many folks would make a four-day drive for a three-day destination experience. But this excursion was worth every mile and every hour spent. We return to Minnesota full of new memories and renewed joy. The mountains seem to do that—every time.