“There’s no place like home,” Dorothy says as she returns to Kansas in The Wizard of Oz. I have a similar sentiment whenever I come back to a place I’ve lived–whether seeing the green fields of Ireland, the misty trees of the Cascades in Washington, the wide-open spaces of southwestern Montana, or the Palouse hills in north Idaho. As I drove out of Stanley on Highway 21 last August, I was confident that I would be back in the Sawtooths in some capacity. Thankfully–and I hope it was because they liked me and not because of the blackmail–SIHA rehired me for this summer. On our first day of training the Vice President of SIHA’s Board of Directors, Terry Clark, came by The Center for the Sawtooths (CeSaw!) to meet our crew. Remembering me from last year, he shook my hand and said, “welcome home”–and there really is no place like this home.
Spending last summer here curated the homely feeling that Stanley and the Sawtooths stirs within me. I realized it when the mountains, without losing their awe inspiring nature, became a normalized part of my experience. When some Montana friends of mine came out to visit, I saw just how gobsmacked they were by the mountains; just how I was when I first saw them!
Near Patterson Peak. Photo Credit: SIHA Staff
That sense of wonder returned as I was driving back to Stanley in May. Driving on Highway 21, I saw the Sawtooths in their glory appear from behind the trees–snowcapped peaks, unlike the last time I saw them. I had to turn down the music, leaving my senses fixed on them–until I remembered that wildlife, too, use the road.
One thing about this home is how it was shaped by the people. Eddie and Bailey, two naturalists from last year, became close friends whom I have visited twice down in Boise since last season. When by chance I saw my fellow historic specialist, Isaac, up in Moscow, it was a meeting that warranted a hug–I hadn’t seen him in nine months. Going back to frequented favorites like Papa Brunee’s and the Kasino Club, I was glad to see familiar faces behind the counter. Oh, and the pizza at Brunee’s…as delicious as ever!
Not Brunee’s, but woah! Photo Credit: SIHA Staff
Yet for most of the year I do not occupy a space in the Sawtooths; rather, it occupies a space in my psyche. When I am back north in Moscow, looking at photos of the jagged peaks serves as a great reminder of the wonders here–though I do love the rolling grasslands of the Palouse. The SNRA stickers on my car, laptop, water bottle, as well as my Sawtooth goat plate publicly display my love of this place (though to my fellow staff it displays my Magpie tendencies).
When I am in the SNRA I make sure to get out and utilize the recreation opportunities available (otherwise what would be the point of being in a National Recreation Area?). Last year I caught six fish; so far, none this year. I hiked plenty of trails, with my favorite leading to Horton Peak; so far this year I have only hiked to Patterson Peak–though at 10,877 feet it surpasses any elevation I attained last summer.
Fishing with Naturalist Luke–no bites, though. Photo Credit: SIHA Staff
The best souvenirs are those that are privately remembered: the excitement of catching my first fish; the car ride sing-alongs to Wide Open Spaces with the crew; that satisfying well deserved slice of a Sawtooth Special after a strenuous hike. These, and so many others, are the moments that solidify the special, personal affinity I have with this place. I view it alongside Ireland, Washington, Montana, and Moscow up north as a place I have called home–and there really is no place like this home.
The Road Home. Photo Credit: SIHA Staff
Eoin Gleeson is a returning staff member to SIHA, as a 2025 Historic Specialist and 2026 Lead Historic Specialist. During the summer, when he isn’t at the Stanley Museum learning more area history and educating visitors, he enjoys road trips, fishing, and eating copious amounts of Papa Brunee’s Pizza.