At Dant it feels like the whole world stills to listen… to the river, to friends laughing, to stories, to heavy breaths on hikes in the hills, and to the trains rumbling along the tracks.

I could write so much about my first weekend at Dant after moving back to Oregon, but none of my words could capture what it is and what it means to me. It always amazes me how a small group of people comes together in this old mining town along the banks of the Deschutes River, how we shut the world out, and breathe in a sort of peace that is so rare in the rest of our lives.



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