This is kind of a poor picture, and yes, it has a needless filter on it. It’s also not the prettiest part of town. But it’s just what it is.
The trail goes alongside old railroad tracks that are now of no use to our sleepy, off-the-highway town. It’s a path that follows roads, fields, valleys, and creeks from Kalispell to Kila. Maybe it’s five miles, maybe it’s ten.
I used to run there often in the summertime. Past a homeless camp under the bridge, a tree that holds too many memories, a torn up plot of land where big yellow dragons have been clawing at the soil for ages.
It’s beautiful and quiet and lonely and open.
I think that is why it feels like home.