For the past ten summers, I have started the season with a trip somewhere with my kids. Two days after the end of school, we left behind uniforms, books, calculators, backpacks and schedules—all of the equipment and ritual of classroom learning—and boarded a plane to somewhere.
One summer we headed west to Montana to visit ghost towns, go river rafting, hiking, horseback riding and fly-fishing. We met real cowboys with bow-legged gaits, ten-gallon hats and a decidedly slower pace of speech than...
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