We who live in the West can take the wide-open expanses for granted.

We stood on a sunlit ridge above the city of Missoula, Mont., and looked back to the north, where a cloudburst poured rain in the Grant Creek canyon.

An hour later, a crowd of 200 gathered at the headquarters of the Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation to celebrate the premiere of “The Trembing Giant,” a feature-length film sponsored by Danner. With any project like this, the challenge is to convey the essence of the hunt in about 90 minutes. It is a mark often missed in outdoor media. We don’t just take the great wide open for granted, we take many aspects of a grand adventure for granted. This, in effect, is the missing part of the outdoor film industry that grows around it like a cage.

If anything, the prospect of a 90-minute look into someone else’s September caused me to reflect. My 16-year-old daughter, Mikayla, will hunt deer this season with her Hoyt Vicxen.

This is her second year with the bow, and she shoots well, but I wonder, is the prospect of the upcoming adventure a thrill to anticipate or just another opportunity to hunt with her dad? It is hard for a father to discern.

Archery season begins Aug. 24 and runs through Sept. 22. In these weeks that lead up to the opener, she will shoot at various angles and distances, then finish with razor-sharp broadheads installed, making the minute adjustments to tackle and technique.

The term “trembling giant” refers to a clonal colony of a single male aspen tree characterized by many trunks from one system of roots; a colossal organism, the largest of which is called Pando and is spread over more than 100 acres at the western edge of the Colorado Plateau. It was from this term the filmmakers, Kamp Grizzly, drew the name for their project.

The film begins with the preparation, the anticipation, as three teams of hunters gather in the Rocky Mountains. Rich in time-lapse photography, the film follows the trajectory of each team as it rides into the high country camp and spreads out across the expanse of the landscape. Clouds scud across the September sky, aspen leaves rattle in narrow canyons and a tree stands stark against the night sky in a world lit only by fire.

Encounters with elk in this film are brief vocal exchanges across canyons, bugled duels in timber and glimpses that build to climax points when arrows are nocked and drawn, decisions made. We see hunters face ancient fears, overcome the challenges of the altitude and terrain; we witness that most delicious of backcountry pleasures, the midday September nap.

Screenings of “The Trembling Giant” are scheduled across the West through the first week of September. Is it a film for hunters? I think not so much as it is a unique look into an American experience that takes place in the far blue mountains when the aspens begin to turn.

For me, the premiere inspired brooding. This daughter of mine began to shoot a bow at the age of 2. By 3, she could launch an arrow over the barn. Archery was her gateway to the promise of a lifetime of hunting. As this daughter becomes more a partner, less a child, it is my challenge to pass on the anticipation, to involve her in every aspect of the planning, the preparation.

Sometimes in the course of a weeklong trek into the backcountry, one has opportunity to pause on the rim of a canyon. The view might afford a look at miles of timber and glimpses into distant meadows. These mountains, this great wide open, is country for the old and for the young; it hurts, it heals.

No phones ring, no text messages flicker across handheld devices. And the scale of the wide open West makes a person evaluate, look back, look ahead; reflect on choices made; choices to make in the trajectory of life.