Distinctly Montana Magazine

71 w w w . d i s t i n c t l y m o n t a n a . c o m T HE AIR IS NOTICEABLY THIN ABOVE 9,500 FEET, tinged with exhilarating scents of fresh pine and decomposing tim- ber that leave a muted tingle in your throat and nostrils. Lactic acid burns through your muscles like slowly-flowing lava due to miles of steady uphill climbing, and you become acutely aware of your oxygen-deprived lungs' rhythmic objective to maximize the effectiveness of each inhale. The straps of your heavy pack gouge your shoulders, its dead weight seduced by the relentless pull of gravity, while your heart beats frantically against your ribs, issuing a desperate plea for you stop and surrender. Yet, you forge ahead, decomposed granite crunching hypnoti- cally beneath your boots, while you somehow muster feelings of determination and comfort with each step. And as the ground fi- nally levels off, the horizon falls beneath you into an infinite sea of snow-capped, jagged peaks that rise up from a thick blanket of swaying pines. There is something miraculous that happens in moments like these, standing beneath the cloudless cerulean of Montana's Big Sky, staring out into the vastness. Amid the juxtaposition of total physical exhaustion and indescribable natural beauty, the mental noise is finally silenced. Though the weight on your shoulders is still just as heavy, the weight in your chest has eased. The crisp mountain air swirls and plummets down into the forest, leaving you with the primal reminder that you are not broken—you are just learning to suffer well. THE LONG ROAD HOME For many of our nation's military veterans, returning to life at home after experiencing war is far less idyllic than most civilians can comprehend. Transitioning from the high-stakes adrenaline of a combat zone to the quiet safety of a living room couch isn't just a lifestyle change—it is often the catalyst of a biological and spiritual crisis. by HOLLY MATKIN photos by BRYON GUSTAFSON Dorian Gardner holds his axe at Smith River camp during VLTAT 25-2—firewood, warmth, and the steady rhythm of shared work.

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