For me, a favorite trip that’s become almost an annual pilgrimage is to head to western Montana. It’s really the only place on earth that merits a regular slot—usually in late September—on my otherwise random and very full travel calendar. Part of the attraction is that my older son, Michael, lives there, but just as important is that Montana inspires me, with its purple mountain majesties, valleys of waving amber grain, and gurgling, crystal-clear, trout-filled rivers. It’s my annual “fix” of mountain living in a place where life seems simpler and slower, and where I can really relax.

March/April 2011