Family Adventures - Why We Need Them!

One of the benefits of resort living is the variety of people one gets to meet. Not only are they from every corner of the globe (or so it seems), but each person is unique. Of course some are opinionated. A few are downright difficult. But, that is not the norm.

Most of the people we meet are relaxed and enjoying life. They are where they want to be, doing what they want to do. The only time we see a cloud cross their countenance is when it comes time to say good-bye.

Our guests, by and large, are friendly, open, honest folks who love life. In a world where people rarely look one another in the eye, where it is uncommon to know your neighbors, where we rush to and fro with little time to interact, our guests relish the chance to relax.

More and more families are working to rebuild this 'something' we have lost. More and more researchers are showing the benefits of doing so, and the real dangers of ignoring the problem. For more on the issue, check out my article on the benefits of a Family Adventure Vacation.

We get to see the metamorphosis in progress. Here it is not uncommon to see folks, who moments ago were strangers, visiting, laughing, and making plans for an excursion. While many of our guests are friends, returning for a few days to visit, some are strangers when they arive. They don't stay that way!

That is one of the major benefits of a small resort. If a guests stays longer than a day or so, we have the opportunity to visit. They learn a bit about our lives, we are enriched by a glimpse into their lives.

Isn't that the way it used to be? We may not have made friends with a families from England, or Italy, or Florida, but we knew our neighbors. We dined together; laughter and stories flying freely across the table. We strolled together; Mom and Dad holding hands while the kids scampered or ambled nearby - maybe a friend or two in tow. A family vacation included all the family enjoying an outdoor adventure toghether. Many of us grew up making those memories.

Somewhere along the way, we've lost touch with something important. Something you might call 'family glue'. We've lost our trust. We've lost touch. We've lost the ability to slow down. To enjoy a sunset. We've lost the time to watch ducks on a pond. To wonder at moose grazing in the willows. To delight in a coyote trotting across an open field.

In the end, I think we've lost ourselves. So, when our guests leave walking a little slower, talking a little more, laughing with abandon and pausing to enjoy the wildflowers nodding in the meadow or the silver aspen leaves fluttering against a robin's egg blue sky, we know we're honored to have been part of the change!

Lady of the Lake

Resort Living!
"Ah, you guys live the good life," she sighed as she leaned back in her chair yesterday.

'She' was a guest from Bozeman who visits regularly - and 'she' did and didn't represent the norm. She didn't represent the norm for women - most of whom think I've lost my mind when I say I 'love' living in the middle of nowhere. A visit they love. To stay? No, thank you. However, she did represent the norm for the majority of our guests - primarily the men and youth.

I must admit, depending on the day of course, most of the time I would agree with her wholeheartedly. Take last night. After a couple hours of heavy (well, for this winter at least) snow, a calm, quiet night slowly descended upon us. In spite of the cold (it was quickly approaching zero outside), I opened the upstairs slider and stuck my head out - just to listen.

The only sound was the faint shushing of the trees across the lake. Otherwise. . . How does one describe stillness? A quiet so deep you can feel it?

Some people are accutely uncomfortable with this much quiet. Take much of our current youth culture. Even in a crowded mall with lots of noise or in the presence of their friends, I notice many of them wandering around with earplugs piping 'music' to their brains at all hours of the day and night. I guess my craving for 'quiet' is as alien to them as their craving for constant noise is to me.

On the other hand, there was the middle of the day yesterday with its roar of snowmobiles, the clanking of crashing of pots and pants and silverware from the kitchen, and the laughter and rumble of conversation from the dining room. The press of guests makes up the greater part of my day (particularly in the summer) and, like everything else, although I enjoy it for the most part, there are times when I wish I could just lock the door and keep the world out.

Take last weekend. We were all under the weather due to a visiting virus. Everyone was either in bed sleeping off their bug or laying around (in their PJ's with sleep squished hair and pillow creased faces) on the couch watching TV. In roared a bunch of snowmobiles. Now, we're closed on Sunday so they didn't ask to come in, but sometimes it feels like an invasion of our privacy to have a half a dozen people eating their sack lunches on our deck while we huddle out of sight in our living room.

I guess it's just like everything else - we get to take the good with the 'bad'. However, I must admit, for the privilege of living here - I'll be glad to take a lot of the 'bad'!

Lady of the Lake