A Day in the Mountains: Life Behind the UTV Mountain Tours
There is a bit of chaos every morning before the UTV trip heads out.
Bear spray? Check. Sunscreen? Check. Lunches packed? Check. Extra water bottles? Check. SPOT transmitter charged? Check. Cell phone? Check. “Remember to check in at noon.”
“Copy that.”
One last look around the gear room. One last sip of coffee. A few final reminders. Then, just like that, they’re off. It’s quiet. I can get back to work, and occasionally a dog will bumble in for a quick scratch behind the ears.
As all of our guides head into the mountains, it’s always wild to see them go—knowing that I don’t even know what the day holds in store-then even better to see them return. The fun, the pictures, the stories, the rehash of the day’s questions.
“I’m pretty sure this is elk scat, but it could also be moose. What do you think?”
“I don’t know,” I reply. “Ask Joe and text the client back to make sure they’re properly informed.”
What I do know is that the other picture is definitely bear scat. “Did you remember to bring back the bear spray and charge the SPOT transceiver?”
Then there’s the debate over whether a plant is, in fact, gentian and not mullen, as Josh suggested. “Of course it’s gentian, Christiana. You’re nearly always right about that sort of thing.”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t sure this time. Thank goodness for Courtney. She and I, we are like, sisters from another mother. Anyway, she settled the debate by identifying the plant on her phone…”
The view is never the same, and the land is never the same. The mountains change with the weather, the season, the light, and the rain. And we, as people, get to change too.
My guides spent the day getting to know guests from West Virginia, who somehow felt like family to all of us, even though we’d only just met. Maybe it’s because I’m from there too, but anyone from West Virginia who finds their way to Wyoming already feels like someone I should know.
That’s one of the gifts of these trips. We arrive as strangers and leave with stories, shared experiences, and connections that somehow feel older than they are. Good people living good lives, enjoying the beauty around them and willingly stepping into the day without knowing what’s around the next bend, or whether the creek will be passable after recent rains and snowmelt.
The wildflowers are beautiful. The laughter is contagious.
“Of course, you should come back again next year—and bring the cousins. We’d love to host them as well!”
That’s what it’s all about.
-Traci
