If you're like me, you grew up or still live in a place far from vast mountains, dense forests, or mystifying valleys. I was born and raised to the age of 20 in Long Island, New York; a stretch of land more than 100 miles long and about 40 miles wide, filled to the brim with houses, asphalt, and street lights. I haven't fact checked it but I bet there are more cubic feet of pavement than soil. My point is, I never had woods to explore as a kid. I had my backyard, a little stream with some bushes and trees, but no real woods. All of that changed when I saw a documentary called The National Parks—America's Best Idea, and with it, heard the words of John Muir.

Muir's words resonated with me more times than I could count and soon after I heard them, I took a backpack and set out to look for a place to hike in New York. Long Island didn't have much to offer. No park I walked in lacked the sounds of highways and car horns, but when I ventured upstate, I found what I had been looking for, peace and fresh air. I sought for more and found myself looking at a picture of the West, the Rocky Mountains. I was absolutely captivated and within 2 years, I was on a train Westbound for Montana. There I saw what I had been looking for, but didn't even know I was seeking—Wilderness.

So what is Wilderness? Simple. Wilderness is an area of land set aside by the Federal Government where there are but two rules: #1) NO WHEELS. Under any circumstances, there can be no man made devices that tear up the terrain, not even a carriage. #2) NO MACHINES. There can be no motors, engines, with the exception of radios and GPS. Wilderness Areas are made with one goal in mind and that is to remind us that we are connected to the natural world, NOT masters of it. Without it, our lives would be dull and soulless. No crisp, clean air to breathe, no green, lush forests to explore, no lively wildlife to discover or study, and no place for us or for future generations to teach us about things bigger than ourselves, nothing to keep us humble. When I found out about the existence of such a place, I jumped at the opportunity to get there, but it is a bit easier said than done.

My first time entering Wilderness was one I'll never forget. It was Spring Break of 2015 and my good friend and I had taken the free time to hike a pleasant glacial valley called Blodgett Canyon, nicknamed the Yosemite of Montana. When I first got there I could see why. The trailhead started in the opening of the canyon and was significantly open from a fire sweeping through and subsequent avalanches plowing the landscape flat of high trees, though occasionally, we did see a few still standing tall. With such a panoramic view, I could see great walls of stone on both sides of the canyon. climbing straight up thousands of feet towards the sky. The view from just the bottom of this great valley was spectacular, but it was not wilderness. We would have to travel farther to find that.

After quite a few photographs, we started on our journey to make it to Blodgett Lake at the very end of the valley, 12 miles away. As we started we noticed a snow storm tucked inside the valley, towards the lake but above us, it was only a light rain. We figured it couldn't be too bad and we walked on toward our intended destination. After 3 brisk miles, we made it to a bridge and our second great sight. Looking up around the valley and the mountains, I noticed a stone arch, naturally made and in the shape of a horse's head. I took a picture to solidify it in memory and kept on. A few miles later, we found ourselves staring at a waterfall 50 ft high and mighty in power.

I couldn't believe it. I had never seen a waterfall before and to see one this large and grand, and powerful blew my expectations for this hike past anything I could've imagined. And yet still, we weren't in Wilderness. I started to wonder if we had already passed through the boundary. We were already 5 miles into the hike. We kept going and started to find ourselves drifting off-trail in sheer lust for exploration. We saw in the distance some large boulders and wanted to explore them and not long after we ventured, we found ourselves in a playground of our own making, climbing big rocks and boulders, trying to get to a higher spot until we reached the top of the boulder pile and could see all the way back toward the trailhead. We stopped for a bit to take a breath, then we returned to the trail and kept onward. Only 2 miles more and we found yet another waterfall, one far larger and wilder than the last.

For some reason, I was captivated by this one more so than the first waterfall. Something about it was special to me. I mean you can die if you fall in either of these torrents. The water is frothing white with turbulence, and it is the very same creek that falls all the way to the trailhead, but different from the first waterfall, where you are separated by a steep drop off, you can get as close as you want to this waterfall (as I show in the picture above). You decide how close to this raging beast you want to be, and to me, standing next to it, I could see more clearly than any other time in my life, the raw power of nature....and yet still, we weren't in Wilderness yet!

After a well-deserved lunch by the cascade, we kept going further where we found but a mile away from our lunch spot the last 2 obstacles keeping us from the lake, As we marched on the trail, we noticed the dirt turning to mud and then creekwater. We were crossing into a floodplain and it wouldn't stop getting deeper. We stopped and discussed amongst ourselves if we should keep going and we both agreed that it was only water. We kept going and eventually, the water seeped into our boots and even more. For the majority of the swamp, the water was up to my shin and introduced another factor I had not taken into consideration; how cold it was. The water was frigid, a level of cold that chilled my feet to the bone, but I kept on and soon, the water receded and the trail dried up again, only to get steeper. After the swamp trudging, we faced our last obstacle and one that succeeded in driving us back, snow.

The snow storm we saw earlier was clear on top of us but it was so warm at the bottom of the valley that it evaporated before it even touched us, but that wasn't the problem. The problem was that there were piles of snow as high as me on the trail. I was amazed to see it but baffled as to why it hadn't melted in the warm temperature. Friend being from Montana told me that this climate isn't like the coast. The shade offers a large temperature difference up here and as it were, the snow was in the shade of dense pine trees. On top of that, she also assured me that the snow fell from the mountains in large quantities. In fact, it could've been as high as 15 ft a month or 2 prior to our visit in the valley. From this unexpected obstacle, we made another assessment. We were not going to make it to the lake. But we still hadn't made it to the wilderness, so we kept on for a mile more and the snow proved to take its toll. Every step was like stepping on eggshells. One step too hard would have me up to my chest in snow and no way to get out. I tread carefully as did my friend until we were finally off the snowdrift, then as we rounded the corner, we finally saw what we were looking for; a big wooden sign- Wilderness. I hugged it with enthusiasm.

After yet more pictures we finally turned back and made it back to our car around sundown.

We got back to town with new memories of challenge and discovery, and a new appreciation for the 4 walls around us, keeping us warm. My first experience in Wilderness wasn't even that long, maybe 5 minutes at most, but the journey was what made it so memorable and it is a staple of all the Wilderness Areas in the country. Almost every entrance to Wilderness costs something but instead of money, it requires some kind of commitment. For the hike I took in Spring, it was a 7-mile commitment and 500 ft of elevation gain, and freezing water and snow, but it all amounts to the same feeling when you see that sign. It tells you that you are in a place where the laws of the modern world don't apply, where instead of hearing the blare of car horns, you hear the howls of the wind, maybe a wolf if you're lucky. Instead of seeing asphalt, you see an untouched landscape, and instead of receiving the stress of a hellish workday, you gain the freedom of taking in clear air blown in from the tops of snow capped peaks and the ability to go as far as your eye can see, or as far as your feet will take you to witness a moment that can be had nowhere else but in Wilderness.