Share The Experience

Fall in love with a place, fall in love with people.

By: Haley Bissonnette + Save to a List

I listened as the wind brushed against the rain fly of our tent. The soft scent of fresh, mountain air stirred my senses, awakening my consciousness from the dreamy haze I had been floating through. I was suddenly aware of the distant, sunlight illuminating the landscape that had been darkened by the night when we had first setup camp. 

Josh sat up beside me and unzipped the tent. I watched as his eyes widened, and his expression turned from one of sleepiness, to one of complete, overwhelmed, wonder. 

"You've got to see this," he stated, his gaze fixed on the horizon, his smile shining in the light of the dawn. 

I inched my way to the edge of the tent. In a single glance, I fell in love. There, stretched out before me was the turquoise water of Sweetwater Lake, gently nestled within the great walls of the Rocky Mountains. The waves rolled in and out against the shoreline, as the breeze rustled the overgrown reeds that outlined the banks of the lake. The sun poured out from behind the clouds that sailed across the deep, blue sky, like the sails of tall ships, luffing in the wind. I was stunned into stillness; overtaken by the vastness, and completely at peace in the wilderness. 

We spent the day exploring the caves that poked holes in the jagged mountain side, and hiked through the endless forests of interwoven, aspen trees. We laughed, enjoying the beauty of our surroundings, and even more, the company of one another. As we made our way back to camp, we stopped at the edge of a rocky cliff that overlooked the glistening lake and the emerald valley, that was cut into pieces by the winding river. I watched as every person in our group smiled, their faces overcome with happiness, as they gazed out upon the scenery. 

Back at camp, we played music, danced and drank whiskey. Josh and I decided to take his fly rod to the edge of the wooden dock and try our luck at fly fishing (a hobby he was quite good at). He showed me how to cast the line, and the technique for not accidentally snagging myself. I laughed, embarrassed by my lack of skill with the rod. 

We rowed a boat out into the middle of the lake and took to talking. We told stories about our lives, recalled experiences that had left lasting marks on our hearts, and basked in the beauty of the setting sun and the amazing day we had experienced.

Our trip to Sweetwater Lake was more than a camping trip. It was one of those experiences that Josh and I had talked about. It was one of those experiences that brands your heart, scarring over with time, but never leaving you. It was one of those experiences that allows you fall in love with a place, with people.

The greatest part of Sweetwater Lake, and the entire experience there, was sharing it with those people; the people I love with all of my heart.   

We want to acknowledge and thank the past, present, and future generations of all Native Nations and Indigenous Peoples whose ancestral lands we travel, explore, and play on. Always practice Leave No Trace ethics on your adventures and follow local regulations. Please explore responsibly!

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