Sleeping Beauty Mountain, Lake George, NY
Hiking is not glamorous. It does not command attention. When stripped of fancy gear and heartening backstory, it’s just placing one foot in front of the other, in solitude, ascending, at the expense of your strength, time, and energy.
Should you make it to the top, the work is done only for a moment. There’s a bigger picture to take in and process. Sometimes it’s hidden in cloud, or obstructed by trees. Sometimes its immense, beautiful complexity is impossible to capture.
You can’t always stay long enough to let it sink in, unless you’re willing to make the journey back down to the details of the dirt in darkness. Making peace with that probability can sometimes be more difficult than the climb.
The descent can feel more like leaving home than returning. There’s a fluttering of accomplishment in your gut, with an aching in your mind to remember the bigger perspective.
You won’t remember everything, which is why you will return. One foot in front of the other. Older, wiser, smarter. Searching for the bigger picture, trying to connect how the little details of the dirt come together, and what they’re all supposed to mean — hoping to remember as much as possible before it’s over.
You’ll be alone. But others will be there alone, too. They will help you remember, with a kind word, a smile, a photo to commemorate the moment. Alone together, on a shared journey, blending back into the details of the dirt.
In these times, I am grateful to hiking for being both a respite from daily life, and its closest metaphor. I hope to learn as much as I can from the experiences it provides, and the people who share in it with me.
One foot in front of the other, friends.