Born in Denver but raised in St. Louis, there was never a moment of my childhood I doubted I would live in the mountains. I had to live where I could ski!

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When I moved to Jackson Hole in 2013 with my husband (then boyfriend), that dream became a reality. I won't take all the credit for the bold move out west, but I'll take 95% of the credit. I had been to Jackson Hole once and spent the entire four days in the backcountry, so when I arrived in Jackson in a JEEP full of all my belongings, to say I didn't know what to expect would be an understatement. 

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Little did I imagine the life that awaited me when I arrived. I found a new family, I skied more in one winter than I had my whole life, I fell in love with a whole list of activities I had never experienced before, and I experienced true peace in finding the remote outdoors at the base of the mountains that I'd been longing for my whole life. 

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When people ask us when we'll move back to St. Louis, we smile and say "never". It feels odd to think you know what forever holds, but I couldn't be happier than knowing the mountains will be my home for the rest of time.

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Yes, there are sacrifices: I miss my family every day. I can't go to Target. I miss world-famous museums. I want to go to the symphony. Jackson is the definition of a small town. But at the end of the day, it's not about the town. Building a life around time spent outdoors, in the wild, connected to yourself and your surrounding reminds me every day what it means to live, and experience the best of what this world has to offer.