At the Enterprise car rental in Missoula, Montana, Pat and I went our separate ways. He to West Yellowstone. Me to carry on with the trip. In four weeks, I’ll return the rental car in Missoula and take the bus to Bozeman. This was never the plan. 

It starts with a funny story. Let me give you the CliffsNotes. 

More than a year ago, our son Ryan and a few friends bought a motel in West Yellowstone—the sort of motel a 30-something with no construction skills and limited funds should never buy: twelve historic log cabins adjacent to a five bedroom lodge and all in dreadful condition. The motel hasn’t operated in years; its Google rating when it closed was a dismal 2.6.

The cabins needed to be redesigned and gutted. City Council needed to approve. It was not an easy path. Add to this project three little girls four-years-old and younger, a wife launching a new career, and a full-time job—all on the east coast—and needless to say, sleep has been in short supply. 

At last, the first phase of the journey is nearing completion. Yet there’s still a lot to do this month. Pat’s presence onsite will be extremely beneficial for the final push to soft open June 1st on Airbnb. It was a simple decision. A few days ago, I did an emergency replan of our trip. We never debated that Pat would stay back in Montana, and I would plow on.

One could call Ryan’s dream a crazy scheme, delusional fantasy, or passion project. But I call it the culmination of the wanderlust passed down from my dad. He loved this remote corner of the world above all others and would be both amazed and so proud. We all are.

The Westbound will formally launch as a hotel by fall. Pat and I will be in Montana as often and as long as we are needed over the next few years. (Although I’m personally reserving the option of periodically replacing Montana in that sentence with Paris.)

For the next four weeks, Pat will be working night and day onsite doing whatever is necessary while I lallygag in the Pacific Northwest. I plan to stash my phone, walk endlessly, and read voraciously. My writing will be confined to my morning pen on paper journal. At the end of each week, I’ll putter on to the next stop.

I guess you could say that each of us is in our happy place. Pat loves construction projects; I love solo travel.

This week has been a microcosm of life. It can be fraught with uncertainty. Surprises happen. Plans change. Messy bits abound. Occasionally, when you work hard enough, sweat turns into miracles. I’ve just arrived in Spokane and will report in eventually. 

Until then, happy trails.

Categories: Ruminations

Tags: nomadic retirement, the world inbetween, Unusual retirement options, wanderlust