My favourite place in the entire world is a collection of untamed acres on a sloping mountain side a little southwest of Eureka, Montana.
It’s about a five hour drive from Calgary. Once you cross the border it’s just a short trip to Eureka, a town of 1,300 according to the latest United States Census. Every summer my family would stop at a grocery store along the side of the highway that was targeted at travelling Canadians, to stock up on exotic American yogourt brands and wacky soda flavours.
We camped on five acres of densely wooded area with a looping gravel road that belonged to family friends. In August, when we would go, the mountain valley that we camped in stored heat like an oven. On really dry days the gravel road that took visitors up and down the mountain would kick up enough dust to coat your windshield in a thick film.
On really hot days we’d make the pilgrimage to Rexford, an even smaller town made up of a general store, post office, and bar called The Frontier, a big wooden building along the main road sandwiched between camping trailers belonging to some of the town’s permanent residents.
Within walking distance of Rexford was the shore of Lake Koocanusa. We’d rent a boat for a day or two and use them to transport us up and down the lake looking for a beach that could be ours for the day. I remember the lake water being incredibly clean and very fine to swim in.
A little south of our camp spot was another small Montana town–the name of which I can’t remember–but in the town was a par three golf course so small that only a seven iron and putter were needed to play. A ways down the road was an old red single room schoolhouse that had been bought and converted into a storefront for a company that sold pies.
My family used to go every summer to this part of Montana, until COVID shut down the border and our family friends moved to Texas. I think about it every now and then, when I get nostalgic for summer and no responsibilities.
What I remember is the scene around the campfire at night. The sky was completely swallowed in darkness, except for the stars that shone twice as bright compared to back home.
One day, I’ll go back.
