June 26, 2026 - September 5, 2026 - Mt. Shavano Fish Hatchery, Salida, CO
Written By: Wendy
"Happy first day of school!" My fellow homeschool mom friend greeted me as we ran into each other on the sidewalk in downtown Salida. It's the first day of school for all the local public kids in the area, and I surprisingly woke this morning with a churn of emotions in my stomach. It took me a moment to place where all these feelings were coming from, but the first day of school may always be an emotional day for me. I have had more than 30 "first days of school" between being a student and being a teacher, and even after 3 years and settling into feeling very confident in our decision to homeschool, the first day of school always allows some doubt to creep into my mind about our decision to homeschool. As summer ends, I can no longer hide behind the other school aged kids at the parks and out in public mid-week in the middle of the day. I can feel the stares come back, and I avoid more public locations in the middle of the day as the seasons change. I feel confident in my decision, but yet, the stares. The comments. The questions. The knowing looks, thoughts, and assumptions. Some days it's just too much, so best to avoid it all.
My Salida homeschool friend that I ran into was also a former elementary school teacher. We understand each other deeply. "Gosh," she says, "this day just always brings up some emotions for me. I always wonder if my kids are missing out? But we went fishing this morning and we're leaving on a 6 week trip in our camper next week, I remind myself, so no there is no way they're missing out! I'm so happy about our decision, but this day is just always hard for me." I agree wholeheartedly and tell her I feel the exact same way. I opted to go mountain biking on a trail out of town that doesn't see as much traffic to hide away from the prying eyes instead of going to our usual story time at the library on Wednesdays. "Today is just too glaringly obvious for me to have my chatter box 7 year-old at story time that is mostly teeming with barely verbal toddlers and babies. I had to skip it today." She agrees, we laugh, and our brief conversation is over as we go our separate ways. It was a quick chat, only a matter of minutes, but the amount that it made me feel better and less isolated was immense for me and my emotional state.
I love our lifestyle, but we are going against the norm in more ways than one, so that leaves me to constantly question everything we do. If I take a step back and think of all that we have exposed our kids to and how rich and meaningful their experiences have been, it grounds me and leads to know that we have made the right decisions for us for this season of our lives. Writing this now, it is the end of the summer, and I am able to reflect on what all this summer was for us. Living at the fish hatchery was a unique experience, and we all learned more than I expected. There were some other work campers and seasonal employees that also lived in campers near us, and we formed a unique little community. There was the other hatchery host in his 80s, trying to find some way to fill his lazy retired days and give purpose to them. The two seasonal employees were in their early to mid-20s, just starting their careers and taking whatever jobs they can. And then there was us. A giant ball of energy in constant motion. Whether we were out exploring a new trail for the entire day or biking into town to meet up with friends and go to the library, or having a "relaxing" camper day of homeschool lessons, walks around the lake, and paddle boarding on the lake, feeling "bored" seems like a foreign concept. The moment our kids saw one of our neighbors, didn't really matter who, they immediately ran outside and started badgering them with questions. About their day. About their job. About their Pokemon cards (one guy let it slip to Parker that he was into Pokemon and that was a mistake he couldn't undo!). They would chat and chat until Scott or I pulled them away. They were particularly fascinated by the seasonal employee across from us that worked on the terrestrial side of Colorado Parks and Wildlife. Her job was to track the local deer, elk, and mountain lion populations. In the fall, she put collars on many animals that tracks their locations, and then when a collar stopped moving (aka an animal died), her job was to go retrieve the collar and determine why the animal died. Her camper was surrounded by animal skulls that she picked up on hikes - a large buck skull with a full rack of antlers, a small squirrel skull and everything in between. One day, she let the kids in her camper, and it was like stepping into a natural history museum complete with more skulls of various sizes, large unique rocks, huge pinecones and other nature treasures. All summer long our kids thought that she was the most fascinating person in the world and spent hours asking her questions about her work.
Now with summer coming to a close, all the seasonal employees have left for other jobs, and our little community feels a little lonely. While we had a little community due to our immensely close proximity at the fish hatchery, being in Salida this summer also provided us with the opportunity to once again settle into our Salida community. Scott got the fish hatchery job about 2 weeks before it started, so it this was not our original summer plan. Initially, we were planning to travel all around Colorado for 2 months, exploring the gorgeous state that we have explored so little of, other than where our families live. It was the general plan that we had for last summer, before our camper broke down. But once again, we pivoted at the last minute, and Salida pulled us in for another Salida summer. Someday we'll explore Colorado more fully. When Scott accepted the job, all our thoughts were about was our glorious summer days spent by the river, free music festivals in the park every Thursday night, slow Saturday mornings spent at the farmers' market, and the vibrancy of the town in the summer that made us fall in love with Salida. We didn't necessarily realize what just 2 additional months in the town would do for our relationships with our friends. We settled a comfortable relaxed routine of Parker's ninja class on Monday evenings, story time and park games on Wednesday mornings with one group of friends, Caroline's dance class on Fridays, and the farmers' market on Saturday with a different group of friends. In between, our days were filled with local hikes, mountain biking, paddle boarding, and long summer days spent soaking up the sunshine, giggles, and deep conversations with friends.
A couple weeks after the local public school's first day of school, we had our "official" first day of school. We never really completely stopped homeschooling so the "first day" was more just in order to take pictures to mark the occasion and start our new 2nd grade math curriculum, which Parker was surprisingly extremely excited to do. I took our traditional (and these days mandatory) pictures of the kids holding up their cute school-themed signs with the date and their grade. In one box on the sign, the kids said what they want to be when they grow up. Parker said "inventor." Caroline said "biologist." I can guarantee that before this summer, she did not know the word "biologist," but with all the talk around her this summer of the fish biologists and wildlife biologists, she heard the word enough to know biologist are pretty cool people who can answer my absolutely endless questions. She has thoroughly been inspired this summer, and this is what I value most about our life right now. All the unique and different experiences all of us are having and who knows which one might be incredibly impactful to our kids (or us!) down the road.
As the hordes of tourists dissipate and the temperatures begin to dip in the evenings and the mornings feel crisp, change is in the air. The week before we left Salida, we had way too many punch passes to use up to the local yoga studio, the pool, and a nearby hot springs. Our final weeks had a "hurry up and now relax" vibe to them as we tried to cram it all in. But in our final week, as I either went to yoga or swam daily to get all my punches used, the universe kept sending me signs to embrace our upcoming change. I saw the signs, heard them, and embraced them. Although I do love Salida and very much enjoyed our Salida summer, and I will deeply miss our friends and the community we built, I am excited for yet another year of big changes for us. We have an absolutely incredible next year planned out. One that one some people can only dream of, and although doubt creeps in every now and then since we are approaching our 4th year of epic "gap years," I am going to embrace the change and the uncertainty that inevitably comes alongs with change. It brings me energy and makes me thrilled to wake up each morning instead of living for Fridays and dreading Mondays. So, universe, once again, here we come, ready to accept whatever is thrown our way and here to embrace all the changes.