River Log

9/16/23

Missoula, MT

We entered the city limits at roughly 10pm local time last night, immediately overwhelmed. Getting to a new place in the dark is always disorienting. No idea of the landscape, difficult to get a sense of direction. On top of that, between the friends of friends we stayed with (parked in the back yard of), and the college town nature, we experienced more human interaction in an hour than we’d had in the two days prior.

Now, after one day, here are my first impressions of the comfortably sized, seemingly completely UM dominated, Missoula, MT.

Surrounded not by huge mountains but instead rolling hills, the sun rises perfectly over one and behind another, creating lovely light in the valley for much of the morning and afternoon. However, the landscape seemed rather laking in trees, based on preconceptions, and felt overall dryer than expected. Much more alike eastern Washington or the San Fernando Valley of California.

Other than that, my only thoughts have been about, although limited in sample size, the people. Especially during mid-September, the majority of people you’ll encounter seem to be about 20 years old, white, and generally well-outfitted in outdoor-casual attire. While friendly, there is little more to experience than high energy, comments about past rafting trips, and thoughts about future ski trips. With the occasional dig at a well known philosopher, for some intellectual variety.

As someone who has had a strong love affair with the outdoors for the last few years, one would think I’d be right at home. Although somewhat intimidated, given that I feel rather late to the game. After all, as I find myself trying to spread said love for nature to the unexposed, what better people to surround myself with than hyper-exposed. However, my interactions and observations have only attributed to my thoughts on the problems without outdoor enthusiast. These are related to ideas about accessibility, ability, and allure within the general population.

Firstly, the idea that access to the outdoors requires a good deal of money. The common activities include backpacking, rafting, rock climbing, skiing, and mountain biking. Ideally multi-day and difficult. As someone who’s flirted with the idea of several of these, and eventually focused on backpacking and rock climbing, while still a major investment that required a regular income to buy into, I feel as though I’ve picked to the two most economical options. To be “outdoorsy” today, seems to really mean that you spend a large amount of time participating in one of these activities, if not most or all. This, to me, seems absurd, seeing that to be and outdoors person, one must simply spend time outside. And that requires no money at all.

Secondly, ability seems to have a major impact on one’s social standing in the outdoors community. Not only do you have to ski but you have to ski hard routes. This one could be a stereotype on my part, but it has been my experience. Especially as you get older and have more hours logged in a certain activity.

Thirdly, it’s not just nature that we’re after, it’s the very best of nature (based largely on visual grander). I’ll admit that conditions of rock and snow play a part, but largely, places like national parks, famous mountains, and well trafficked trails get the best reputation. It’s not enough to just go rafting, it has to be a rafting trip in the Grand Canyon (again, conditions aside).

Now, I can only speak as a novice in most areas, but also an astute observer. And to me, this all contributes to an elitism, or gatekeeping, attitude around nature and the outdoors hobbiest. In reality, to be outdoors at all, is very accessible, requires almost no ability, and is more often than not, beautiful. And, unfortunately, in my experience this has been best realized when I’m alone, away from people who seem to be racing for the most premium outdoor experience.

Perhaps I’m being too harsh for my first post. Perhaps I’m attempting to start off this project with something to really think about.

Today I was invited rafting by the college friends of my summer coworker. After several impressive rapids, the river evened out for the last mile or so. It was at this point that the conversation shifted to making plans for the next trip, or how the experience was lesser now that we’d past the jagged cliffs. Meanwhile, sitting in the back of the raft, I had no idea when or if I’d have the opportunity to raft again, given all the gear and planning that go into it. All I wanted to do, was watch the trees and rocks pass by, and think about was how quiet it was.