A Love Letter to Our Funky Little Town
There’s a place where the mountains hold you like an old friend and the sky somehow feels taller. A town stitched together with weathered wood, local art, and stories told over coffee—or beer—depending on the hour.
That place is Fraser.
We joke about it. We call it funky. We say things like “well, we needed the moisture” while scraping snow off our windshield in May. We roll our eyes at the moose in the crosswalk and then immediately text a picture to five friends. Because we secretly love it. All of it.
You Know You’re in Fraser When…
The gas station has better burritos than most big-city restaurants.
Your neighbor waves, even if they have no idea who you are (yet).
You run into someone you just met last week and now you’re already planning a mountain bike ride or inviting them to your backyard fire pit.
You check the weather and get all four seasons before noon.
We’re the Town That…
…pours beer next to public art.
…lets music echo into the mountains.
…turns a spring snowstorm into an excuse for a hot toddy and a powder day.
…believes that funky is a compliment and weird is a virtue.
…knows beauty isn’t always polished—it’s often chipped, muddy, and absolutely magical.
Life on the Edge of the Wilderness
Living here means living with nature as your neighbor. And not the polite, manicured kind.
It’s moose wandering past your porch. It’s foxes crossing your headlights at dusk. It’s sunrises that feel like miracles and stars that remind you how small and lucky you are all at once. It’s cold that bites, wind that howls, and quiet that fills your bones.
And somehow, it all feels like home.
So, Dear Fraser…
Thank you for being quirky and kind.
Thank you for slowing us down and waking us up.
Thank you for showing us what it means to belong—without needing to explain ourselves.
We love you for your muddy boots, your frost-tipped mornings, your wild heart.
And we wouldn’t have you any other way.