I took a trip last summer. We rode through "Beautiful British Columbia" and “Larger Than Life" Yukon Territory. Both certainly lived up to their names (and ubiquitous branding). As we rode north, we drove through several microclimates: steep mountains, sweeping mountains, glaciers, long and straight stretches. Each day was like a new ride.

Each town we rode through presented the same personality. ‘Town’ in this case means both the grand, global cities like Banff and the one-hotel, one-restaurant, one-gas station stops. It was other-wordly. As if I’d literally been transported to another planet with 3 moons and trees that talk. Each galaxy proudly announced its presence to the world. “World’s Best Bumbleberry Pie!” Or “best gas for 100 miles!” So we’d stop. Granted, it happened to be the only gas for 100 miles and we knew that, but that didn’t stop their enthusiasm.

As we pulled into one of these dots-on-the-map, the welcome sign said ‘Beautify & Ruddy.’ I was struck. This had to be one of the most emotionally intelligent and honest signs I’d ever seen. So we stopped.

As we pulled up, we met a lady smoking cigarettes and swatting mosquitos with a tennis racket (yes, the bugs really were that big). Heading in, we were met with stuff — everywhere. T-shirts on the walls, trinkets next to the toilet paper, sodas in the same cooler as the groceries. It took a minute for my senses to recalibrate. The Pall Malls-and-Wilson lady came in to start a new pot of coffee. She took our order for the World’s Best Bumbleberry pie and then resumed her perch behind the counter. She shared stories and unsolicited wisdom between refills of the darkest coffee west of Ethiopia.

She was indeed beautiful and ruddy. This spot on the map is her spot. She planted herself in a place that is frozen solid 5 months of the year. There’s a healthy dose of ‘ruddy’ needed to live in that place. She sees more moose than people some days. Bears prohibit her from having a dog. What kind of person seeks out harsh environments on purpose?

Evidently, the same kind of person that chooses beauty. She planted flowers, made homemade bumbleberry pie and turned her not-so-mobile home into a rest for the weary. She created space of warmth. She cultivated beauty where there was none.

Beauty is not necessary to survive in the wild. It is, she taught me, necessary to thrive. She choose where to plant herself and chose to ‘bloom where she was planted,’ as the saying goes.

She was, it was, indeed Beautiful and Ruddy. And famous, we later learned. She’s an institution, covered with the same press as the bears and the Canadian Rockies.

And it is indeed the World’s Best Bumbleberry Pie (at least it’s the best - and only - Bumbleberry Pie I’ve eaten).