28 May From The Editor: Our Bedrock

For a few fleeting months, the Northern Rockies are graced with brilliant summer sunshine. Clouds billow and sweep across an endless blue horizon that is, in many places, striated with the purples, blues, and greens of the mountains.

It is during this season that many people venture into the wild places. Rumbling rivers lure anglers while crags extend a challenge to climbers. Meadows painted with floral hues offer quiet pause to those passing through.

As writer Douglas A. Schmittou quotes late landscape photographer John Fielder in “Wind River Range: The geographic and historic heart of Wyoming’s high country” (page 88), “Such environments are … ‘our psychological bedrock.’ They are ‘places that [seemingly] never change, no matter what chaos we create in the rest of our lives.’”

It’s true that chaos swirls heavily in today’s fast-paced world: The 24-7 news feed, abject consumerism, and spiral of social media all make the hyper-wired 21st century feel like a rat race.

How fortunate, then, are we — those of us who live, work, and play within the varied landscapes of the Northern Rockies, where we can tap into something larger than ourselves, connect with something more deeply tangible than a screen.

In addition to mountain hideaways and endless trout streams, this region contains the indelible fingerprints of those who came before. There’s rich opportunity here and now to explore the wilds with intention, to tour the towns, to embrace the cultures, to remove oneself from the race.

So, as snowmelt feeds streams that swell to rivers, flowers bloom in the high country, and green grass satiates grazers’ bellies, consider that psychological bedrock. Consider the anchor point. Consider the invitation to venture forth, out, and beyond.