By Nielsen Greiner EBS COLUMNIST
Mountain living has its perks, but sometimes…
It’s been a few weeks since you’ve been to “town”—what many of us Big Sky residents call Bozeman or the greater Gallatin Valley. You look in your fridge and pantry to see what’s left to eat. You find some hummus, half a container of salad, a few beers and an array of condiments—too bad you can’t have these for dinner. In the pantry is a sparse selection of Kraft mac and cheese, an almost-empty bag of tortilla chips, a dwindling box of granola bars, some rice, a few cans of beans and a years-old plastic bag of lentils that you’ll never actually cook. Hmmm.
“Well,” you think with an air of resignation and tinge of anxiety, “I guess it’s time for a town run.”
Hopefully, you’ve chosen a day with clear skies and clean roads. You mentally prepare yourself, knowing that it’ll take the better part of a day to run all your frenzied errands and, if you’re lucky, get back in time for dinner; you’d rather not eat out in town and delay the return. Better buy a bottle of wine or a six-pack, to properly recover when you’re back.
You’re a few minutes down the road, not even out of Big Sky, and someone pulls out in front of you. “Surely, they’ll speed up,” you tell yourself in the midst of some breathing exercises to ease the swell of anger. They don’t. The speed limit is 55 miles per hour, then 60, and your speedometer doesn’t crest 40—for the entire Gallatin Canyon drive. You’re not sure these deep breaths are helping.
Not until it’s too late do you realize your mistake—you’re going to town in the middle of the day, on a weekend, along with the whole city of Bozeman. You let out a loud, exasperated sigh, and turn up the volume to your favorite tunes or podcast.
Costco is a looney bin. Target isn’t much better. Then it’s Lowe’s or Home Depot, Winco or T&C. Maybe a quick lunch. Park and half-jog, grab and fill a cart, navigate the maze of irritated or resigned zombie-like shoppers, check out and say a kind word to the cashier. Cross another stop off the list, as the winter sun is dipping lower in the southwest sky.
At last, the vehicle is full and after all but draining your checking account, you’re finished—you’re confident you would last a long time if the apocalypse were to start tomorrow. But you’re only partially relieved, knowing you have to make it back through the canyon to Big Sky. You run through another grocery list of asks: “Please oh please, let there not be any accidents; let the blizzard hold off until I’m home; let me not get stuck behind the family in a rental minivan with summer tires.”
There’s a couple close calls, like usual. Some jerk in a big truck spewing black diesel fumes passes you illegally on a blind, slick curve. Later, God bless them, some family in a rental minivan without winter tires is going 30 miles per hour. The white-knuckled driver decides to use a turnout at the very last second and you discover you may need new brake pads. Finally, you cherish the cold, thin air as you round the final curve in the road and turn into your driveway. Though hangry, you let out a contented sigh—home, sweet home.
Alas, the fun’s not over yet; it’s almost another hour before everything’s unloaded and the frozen pizza is in the oven, when you’ll finally open the well-deserved bottle of wine or can of beer and, deservingly, stare at a wall.
Cracking a smile, you’re a little proud of yourself for conquering yet another dreaded “town day” without becoming entirely unhinged. There’s always next time for that.
Nielsen Greiner is an aspiring writer, outdoor enthusiast, and small business owner based in Big Sky. He loves snowboarding and splitboarding, mountain biking, long day hikes and truck camping in the woods, and has a thing for books, coffee, trees and birds. This summer, Nielsen lived out of his truck while traveling through Canada and Alaska for two months. To read more, visit nielseninthewild.com.
