What Draws Us Home

Like many of us, I lived a good chunk of my 20s out west, tallying up 100-plus days on the hill each winter and spending more summer nights under the stars than not. Young and determined, I knew I would spend the rest of my life in the mountains.

Then, edging close to 30, my resolve unexpectedly crumbled. The human need for family is strong, and indeed I missed my Granny somethin’ fierce, but it was another primordial necessity, a yearning so intense yet so deep I could hardly grasp it, that broke me: I needed water. Sparse pinyon-pine deserts and barren reservoirs left me parched, and I was desperate for the endless lakes and towering hardwoods of my youth. I wanted—needed—to go home.

Home to me was a two-part answer: the Midwestern town where I grew up, and the Lake Huron cottage that defined my teenage summers. I left the mountains for the former, and landed, eventually, near the latter, building a home in sight of the lake that feels like a perpetual hug from an old friend.

Whether you count your tenure in months or generations, you surely have a story about what drew you here, or why you stayed. It probably doesn’t involve a corporate transfer, and my guess is it might have something to do with the natural world.

The love of this region, and a desire to protect it, defines our community. And celebrating that community— sharing the stories of the athletes and adventurers, entrepreneurs and elders who live next door or the next concession over—is, to me, what Mountain Life is about.

Mountain Life’s editors of the past 20 years have built not only an award-winning magazine, but a family of oddball, kick-arse, in-it-for-the-fun friends who encourage and inspire one another while working to amplify the accomplishments of their neighbours.

Years ago, I was humbled and grateful to be welcomed into that family. Now tasked with continuing Mountain Life’s legacy into its third decade, I hope to do so with a passion, heart and soul reflective of this place we have all chosen to call home. –Kristin

Schnelten

People always gathered in Collingwood to celebrate a side launch. Why? For over a century, the locally-built ships that launched sideways into the harbour were a symbol of Ontario at its best: a hard-working place of grain, grit, rocky trails, rich soil, forest and big water. Where people appreciate well-crafted beer made for them.