It may be a sign of my age, but lately I have noticed more bits of advice on retirement coming into my e-mail inbox. The same is true of our U.S. Mail box. We get sample copies of senior citizens newspapers, offers for health letters, advice on investments and savings, and quite a few questionnaires and quizzes. I ignore most of it. My work schedule doesn’t have enough breaks for me to attend meetings at the Senior Citizens Center. My retirement plans are, for the most part, in the hands of the directors of the United Church of Christ Pension Board. My doctor has been giving me sound advice on maintaining my health.

Every once in a while, however, I read one of the advertisements that comes my way. The other day there was something about choosing retirement housing that had a questionnaire. I didn’t fill out the form, but I did read a few of the questions. One had me pondering as I went about my chores last night. The question was, “Are you a mountain person or an ocean person?”

On the surface, the answer might be easy. I grew up in the mountains and I’ve always had a love for the high country. Looking to the northwest from my home town are the Crazy Mountains. The view down main street is dominated by the peaks. Crazy Peak, at 11, 214 feet, was the first mountain over 10,000 that I summited. It isn’t a technical climb, but there are a few places where one has to be careful. Head south from our town and you’ll find yourself in the boulder valley where the mountains rise higher and higher and the valley becomes narrower and narrower until you climb to the Slough Creek divide with Yellowstone National Park on the other side. To the west is the Bozeman pass. On the other hand, the land to the east of my home town is relatively flat.

I grew up with a kind of elitist attitude toward mountains. I remember visiting the Black Hills as a kid and being careful to tell anyone who would listen that these aren’t mountains. Despite the named peaks, the hills don’t rise high enough above sea level to have tree lines. Compared to the high country of the Rockies to the west, the hills are a little clump of somewhat worn-down peaks that one would hardly describe as alpine. Having said that, however, I really like living in the hills. They are accessible in ways that the high country isn’t. There is great beauty in the hills and it is easy enough to get away from crowds and experience solitude.

Returning to that question, however, I don’t really want to have to choose between the mountains and the ocean. I have loved the times when we were able to visit the ocean. I have a couple of bags of kites that are just right for flying on the beach and I’m a big fan of playing in the surf with my kayak. I have now made two sea kayaks that are capable of handling bigger water. Although I’m not up for an open ocean adventure, I love paddling along the coast, in coves and protected areas. Showing my grandson the sea stars on the bottom of the harbor and watching the harbor seals from a rowboat I made with my own hands has a satisfaction that is hard to match.

I wouldn’t want to have to choose between the ocean and the mountains.

More importantly, the question fails to address all of the other kinds of country that are options for places to live.

The cure for my elitism over my mountain upbringing was being called to serve congregations in Hettinger and Reeder, North Dakota. People from Montana love to tell North Dakota jokes in which the North Dakotans are somewhat less intelligent or perceptive than other folks. The reality is quite different. People who’ve never lived there will be surprised at the percentage of college and graduate school educated people who ranch and live on the plains. They’ll be surprised at the quality of public education in North Dakota and the intelligence of its citizens.

And for a young man with all kinds of biases about what constituted beautiful scenery, living on the prairie was an eye-opener. There were vistas that rivaled those seen from the peaks. There are places where one can see for miles out on the prairie. There are fields of flowers and the serenade of the meadowlark is a sound that has penetrated into my heart. There is a beauty to the plains that is beyond description. I thought that I would endure living in North Dakota for a while as a way of paying my dues towards an assignment in the mountains. What I discovered was that living in that place was a gift and a treasure. There were many days in our time in Idaho when I longed for the peacefulness and quiet of the prairie. And, although it is hard for someone from the prairie to imagine it, one misses the wind when you live in a sheltered place. The air becomes stale and the stillness can be oppressive.

But mountains and prairies and oceans aren’t the only available vistas. One of the treasures of living where we do is that we have easy access to the badlands. You might think, from their name, that such lands are no place to live and there are some challenges to the difficult terrain and lack of water. It can get downright hot there in the summer. But there is beauty in the badlands. Antelope and buffalo make interesting neighbors and the sky seems to get a deeper blue over the sunlight-washed face of the badlands. The texture of the hills makes for a constantly-changing interplay of light and shadow. You’d never be bored with the view out your window if it included the badlands.

The list of beautiful places to live goes on and on.

Maybe the answer to the quiz is that I’m in no position to choose my retirement home yet.

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