A Montana story

Keep close to Nature's heart... and break clear away,

 once in a while, and climb a mountain or spend a week in the woods.

Wash your spirit clean.

~ John Muir

I grew up by the ocean, always by the sea. My father an avid sailor, this is what we would do on the weekends, sail. Though enjoyable, my heart was in the mountains. I loved climbing and exploring new peaks and finding special spots with views for miles - I felt the world was so big "up there".  As a child I would build forts, make little troll houses with moss and fallen trees, pick mushrooms and berries with my grandfather. Ride my horse and ski in winter....it was the mountains that I loved.

 

Watching the Norwegian Olympics in Lillehammer in 1994 on TV there was a clip from Whitefish, Montana. Tommy Moe, a local competing in the downhill skiing.

I yelled at chef to come and watch- never had I seen a more beautiful place as the Flathead Valley.

 

Later we moved to Rhinebeck N.Y- Pierre a student  at the Culinary inst in Hyde Park. At the time we were living in a charming red saltbox built in 1829. Our 2 babies Julian and Sophia were growing and healthy, Pierre and I made many friends and it was a nice common ground between Norway and Canada.  Hudson Valley was beautiful. That year I watched "The Horse Whisperer". I saw it 9 times- I probably know most of the lines. I was struck again...Montana.

Montana was calling.

 

9/11 hit...Scared, I wanted to take my children and run, run away from it all.

I gave Pierre 2 choices Norway, to family and familiar  or Montana to wilderness and unknown.

 

 

Pierre now a chef he could get a job anywhere, location didn't matter. Dad and I flew up to Montana - to Whitefish to explore. Impressed by it's beauty and nature it was a sure deal. Sold our house and moved our family,  then with 3 little kiddos, Auguste was now 1 yr old. We rented a little old house centrally located in Whitefish. Pierre had the van and I walked. I could walk everywhere it was all so close. I had one baby in the back pack, one in the stroller and on walking beside me, to the library, to the market, to the park. We had great neighbors, a retired Ballerina, a older couple with 2 adopted sons and a young couple a few houses down, who held a yearly "I survived a bear mauling" party. The husband was mauled by a bear pretty badly in the park, his whole back side was torn up but survived, his story published in Readers Digest. People were friendly, eccentric and had big hearts.

Sure I was happy-  I lived in a ski town, I could see Big Mountain from my north facing window. But it was the Swan Mountains the beginning of the Rocky Mountains out my east facing window that kept tugging at my heart. We now had four children, Gabriel (fog horn) who was born in Whitefish. Kids were getting bigger and our house was getting ...well, smaller, yearning for more elbow room, it was time to move. Our little bear cubs needed room to roam and stretch out a place where they could run around and explore. We needed space.

That spring we moved to our house that we now live in. This March it's been 10 years.
Our forever home.

I don't now if Montana found me or I found Montana- all I know is my roots have grown deep and my heart is somewhere on the bottom of the lake in the park. This is our spot.
I am a mountain girl and this is my Montana story.