Tara Pruett’s running journey emerged from a rough childhood. The art of running, the sport itself — with its life lessons and camaraderie within its vast community of athletes — became a beacon of safe harbor and personal resolve for Pruett. 

Hello from Room 310 at the Apres Hotel in Whitefish, Montana. It’s currently 10:36 a.m. (Mountain Standard Time). Tuesday. The skies are overcast with a slight drizzle this morning. The streets in this small outpost town are somewhat quiet, too, especially after the whirlwind of the Under the Big Sky music festival this past weekend. 

It started as a ripple softly lapping against my back as I pulled into the driveway of our quiet mountain cove. The roar of the interstates and swarms of fellow travelers behind me after the 1,300-mile sojourn to Lake Erie and back. I made it. Breathe. 

Hello from Room 12 of The Sapphire Motel on North Seventh Avenue in Bozeman, Montana. I’m currently on my way to Whitefish, in the far northwest corner of the state, for the Under the Big Sky festival. I’m here on assignment, once again, where the gratitude to do so remains. 

Hello from the outdoor patio area at the Brady Hotel in New Florence, Missouri (population: 641). It’s 11:26 p.m. (Central Standard Time). I’m within earshot of Interstate 70, which is all hustle and bustle, even at this hour. Tractor-trailers zoom by to destinations unknown. The headlights and taillights of America in motion nearing midnight.  

I woke up with sunshine streaming into my bedroom, the mountains surrounding my town illuminated in bright green vegetation. And yet, I felt in no mood to celebrate Independence Day. 

It’s been a few days since the Telluride Bluegrass Festival in Colorado ended. And I’m still riding the high on that experience, all while I sit here and do my laundry in West Waynesville, the air-conditioning of the establishment a reprieve from the intense heat and humidity this week. 

More than two centuries after William Bartram explored the Southern Appalachian foothills, his words, like his footsteps, still echo through the ridgelines and river valleys he once traversed.  

There’s a quote that’s stuck with me since I first heard it recently. It’s actually in the story I wrote last week about the newly-opened Astro Record Store in Waynesville: “There’s enjoyment and there’s convenience. As things become more and more convenient, I think people look for ways to invest their time and find enjoyment.” 

One recent afternoon, while wandering the Historic Frog Level District in Waynesville, the sounds of hard rock act AC/DC drifted out the front door of 24 Commerce St. The retro sign on the window states Astro Record Store. The friendly face behind the counter is Kevin “Lippy” Mawby.