Because like the people that lived here for 7,000 years and the animals that still try to pick their way across our roads and around our cities:
to be of the arid West is to need range. To be of this crinkled landscape is to circle in big loops from snowfield to desert to river canyon. Out here our human bones whisper, "Sit in one place and you are dead." Out here, the mountains push through the walls of our houses, impermeable as they seem. Perhaps we're restless from our biology, not from our proud, western cultures. Those who listen, move.
Follow the weather, follow the budding shoots of green grass, follow the animals, follow the wildflowers. Find your range and travel it. It will feel like following your mammal heart. Because maybe, it is.