Seasonal work roommates. Some feel like family. Others are family. For better, for worse.

 

When people found out my roommate for my last Red Bus driver season in Glacier Park would be my son Mitch, I got one of two reactions.

#1: Are you crazy? Living with your kid that you just got out of the house? Finally, an empty nester, and you CHOOSE to live with a 20-year-old!!!!!!

#2: No way! You are soooo lucky!!! I would give anything to have an experience like that with my kid at this stage of life!!!! What an amazing time for both of you.!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fortunately for me, my roommate the previous summer MORE than prepared me enough for spending a Glacier season with my son in a 18×18 foot box (there is a compliment in there, Kirk, if you look hard enough).

The best way to write this post is in a give-and-take format. With a true roommate, every day is a teaching opportunity and, most importantly, a chance to learn.

So, what did Dave teach Mitch? And what did Mitch teach Dave? More importantly, what did Beargrass teach them both? That place has been taking on a kind of living energy of its own the last couple of seasons, like the island in Lost. Thankfully we don’t have a Smoke Monster to deal with (at least not yet).

Dave taught Mitch that by coming back to the same cabin every year, all the hardware previously installed could make for a palace—with separate sleeping areas, raised nightstands, and clothes racks! It could be so much worse.

Mitch taught Dave that background music is actually nice and fits the whole vibe of Beargrass’s rustic living style.

Bonus: Dave knew that if one person in the cabin wore a white wife-beater tank top, he was safe at the next Fight Club meeting.

Dave taught Mitch that even if he was bunking with his Dad, he was free to be his own self. Support and advice would only be given if asked. So when Mitch was acting like a pimp on a Red Bus bumper, that would have been a good time to ask.

Mitch taught Dave that not all caterpillars that climb into a cocoon (or technically a chrysalis) will become a butterfly. No matter how much you want them to emerge confident and strong and fly as far away from home as they can. Sigh.

Dave taught Mitch that sign language is the best way to prevent someone from using a really cool summit picture on social media without your permission—and not the ASL kind. Bonus: coworkers love them!

Mitch taught Dave that with the right cult leader, place, and time, Dave could totally live and thrive on just Five Commandments—provided he could choose ala cart and not take a whole tablet.

Dave taught Mitch that everything he thought was his was actually owned by his dad, who holds legal title. And a 2010 Camry is the literal key to personal freedom (and all of his worldly assets) once it crosses at least one state line with no intent to return.

Mitch taught Dave that a ‘dumpster fire’ is not the actual dumpster in the background suddenly exploding in a horrid conflagration. It could just simply be a clothing choice and long hair.

Dave taught Mitch that when something looks really f***** far away, that’s because it is really f***** far away. It doesn’t mean you can’t get there. It just means it’s going to hurt a lot more than you thought.

Mitch taught Dave that it is not the views from the summit but the person with whom you are there. And no matter how many times I say that, I just shake my head. It is ALWAYS about the views! Clouds suck!

Dave taught Mitch to be glad he got his mother’s height, looks, wit, and sparkling personality. Otherwise, he would have to blame his father for the lack of tips.

Mitch and Dave both learned: It’s not about the award, the medal, or the step on the podium. It’s about the sense of team, the bond of camaraderie, an experience not just shared but lived. But most of all, knowing when to be the commentator so you don’t have to drink the swill beer you provided.

Mitch and Dave both learned that much like the tooth fairy is drawn by a tooth under a pillow or Santa Claus drawn by stockings on the mantle, the Beargrass Bear fairy is drawn by a discarded tire and rim next to a hammock. Only in Beargrass.

Mitch and Dave both learned that friends are not made. They are foraged in the fires of our time, both good and bad. Sometimes, the metal never cools. Sometimes, it’s brittle and breaks. It can set in a minute or take a lifetime—or never.

Friends come from all corners of the map, so enjoy the moments and connections in the here and now. The genuine will always gravitate back to each other. Let nature take the wheel.

 

Every one of us teaches, and we don’t know it. Every day, we learn, but we won’t admit it. It all boils down to awareness of yourself and those around you. Man is a social being, made to do more than just live in the world. That means experiencing not just your surroundings but each other as well.

So remember, there is always sun on top of the cloud. Get out there and find your fair share. GoatBoy out!