I just spent four days in St. Louis at our National Athletic Trainers' Association yearly convention with about 10,000 other certified athletic trainers from around the globe. My travel companion and roommate for this excursion, and most every conference I’ve attended over the past 18 years, was my good friend and fellow athletic trainer, Paul.

The conference moves from city to city each year so Paul and I have had the opportunity to visit several major cities over the years and explore a small slice of each along the way. All this big city exploring is interesting and enjoyable but generally leaves us with the same thought at the conclusion of each conference, “Thank God I don’t live here!”

Rapid City is big enough and interesting enough for this small town boy. Enough of enough is enough and those big cities are too much. Too much cement, too many people, too much traffic, and from what Paul tells me, too much stink. As one who lacks a sense of smell, I always forget that a subway train full of people that have been simmering in the balmy Missouri humidity may just have a certain odor about them. A bouquet that I’m sure I contributed to as well.

Paul claims that New Orleans still holds the top spot for “Most Odorous City” but proclaimed that St. Louis rolled in at a decidedly “stanky” second. The fact that Paul is a cattle rancher, athletic trainer, and the father of four, leads me to trust that he knows stink, and is quite adept at “ranking” it (bad pun intended).

Even without access to the stink factor, I’m still quite grateful I don’t call one of these concrete and steel hives home. I like people watching, but I like the luxury of being able to do it passively, without worry, rather than as an active necessity to avoid being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I’ve never really felt unsafe in a big city, but that may be out of sheer stupidity rather than the reality of the areas we’ve stumbled into…and thankfully out of.

My homecoming to Rapid City was made even more enjoyable when my entire family came to the airport to meet, greet, and shuttle me home. Sierra was home from Bozeman for a few days to remedy an acute case of homesickness (I think we cured it), Jackson pulled himself away from his teenage duties of hair care and texting, and my wife arrived with plans to try and catch a glimpse of the Northern Lights before we headed home from the airport.

Sitting at an approach along the highway, outside of the reaches of the light pollution from Rapid City, all four of us looked towards the northern horizon, searching for a glimmer of the Northern Lights. Although they didn’t show themselves, the night was clear and the stars and fire flies danced to the sound of crickets and a slight prairie breeze.

The crickets and prairie breeze were pleasant, but the sound that filled my heart with happiness was the sound of my children in the back seat visiting, laughing, and of course arguing…always arguing. Our family together. No push…no pull from all the directions life takes us…just together.