“What are y’alls’ wants?” The rancher asked us. His head was bent down towards his horse, his hat pulled across his brim, his eyes glancing at me through the driver's side window… 

We were chased down the Beartooth Mountains by lightning and thunder – “Remember when your hair begins to stand, scatter and squat!”

We wandered the deserts outside of Oakley, Idaho, under the beating sun, hunting for juniper saplings – I listened to Jeremy Irons reading T.S. Eliot’s “Four Quartets” on repeat, “The word in the desert.” 

We finished a three-year-long “cursed” trail in the Big Horn Mountains – “Let’s go see a film in town tonight to celebrate." No one slept a wink when we got back to camp. It was a zombie film, and this moose and her calf finally felt comfortable enough to wander into our camp and make a ruckus.

We cleared out the scattered trees of a torn through burn scar, meeting a few morel mushroom hunters. One of the hunters, dressed in only tattered shorts with his ashy bare feet, we called him Pettengill after the wild man our campsite had been named after – “So how exactly should we prepare morels?” “Butter, lots of butter.”

We spent an evening on the Pryor Mountains, cowboy camping at the summit with a view of towns on towns’ Fourth of July fireworks displays – “Y’all don’t think the wild horses are gonna come nip us while we sleep, do you?”

On our way to the Centennial Valley, we were guided through a cattle drive by cowboys – “What are y’all’s wants?” The rancher had asked us – “What are y’all’s wants?” We each had different wants for the season. Right now, we just need to get through the thousands of marching cattle.

We took an old U-boat across Lake Yellowstone to the most remote part of the park, stayed in a cabin, had a chopped challenge cook off with leftover food and our project partner, Marten, judging – “Marten, come skip rocks with us!” “What are you reading?” “We’ve never had more fun with a project partner.”

We spent two weeks in the Absaroka Beartooth Mountains. A wildfire had blazed real hot, through the soil. It rained for three days straight, and yet it was still steaming hot. At night, the thunderstorms caused the trees to drop with the sounds of shotgun shells, the wind whipped through like children hollering, it poured, it burned, we’d swing a pick for ten hours, and we’d jump into the creek and swim. My co-lead and I had our tents a little further away from the rest of the crew; we could hear them up talking all night long. They always had, they always have, so much to share with one another.

One of our crew members, Luke, got robbed that off-hitch. He had been saving money for a van, a home. Our crew was comprised of members older than most, with varied lived experiences, in both struggle and happiness. Luke was silent when we got back into service. His phone updated with the news that his bank accounts had been emptied. He was supposed to pick up the van the next day. That crew would do anything for Luke, anything for each other. We helped. Luke drives that van today. He’s currently staying with Aiden in Buffalo, New York; they both stayed with Bailey in Joliet, Illinois; they all stayed with Jessica in good ole Bozeman, Montana before that.

We got to have another hitch in Yellowstone with Marten – one of the youth crew leads went to middle school with me (Wild!) – we had another chopped challenge, Yellowstone Park Services vs MCC… we lost. Marten made these grits cakes with huckleberry jam. Wowzah! I can taste them now. We built a bridge, and we had a fire going in the wall tent. We stayed up talking all night long – some say that the crew can still be heard talking.

“Hey Miranda (my co-lead), were you able to get any sleep last night?”

“Not a wink, you?”

“Nope. How do they have so much to talk about?”

“They don’t.” They just cherish each other’s company…

“What are y’all's wants?” We needed to get through to the other side, on to our work site.

“I can guide y’all through, but ya gotta stick real close.”

“Yes sir, that would be lovely.”

“Zach, did you really just use the word lovely to a cowboy?” My old crew still messes with me about my posh words sometimes – it’s lovely.

“What are y’alls’ wants?” What a question!

What more could you want than some adventure and good company?