Arizona is known for its hot, desert climate; its red canyons; & its tall, saguaro cacti. When I think of Arizona, I think of old western movies – men in tall hats riding horseback through the desert. So, it was fitting that we ended our Arizona journey riding on the backs of horses ourselves, looking out at the sunset.
Most of our day was relaxed & lazy. We went to visit my great uncle & aunt, & we spent a few hours in their living room reminiscing about days long past. As the afternoon began to draw to a close, we drove to Estrella Mountain Regional Park, where Corral West Adventures was tucked away.
Corral West Adventures is a nonprofit organization that rescues horses. They offer horse rides through the Sonoran Desert, & we chose to do their famous sunset ride.
Our instructor was informative & friendly, & soon we were clip clopping over the rocks into the desert. It reminded me of those old western movies, where the cowboys ride off into the sunset. The setting sun bathed the desert in orange light. On every side, mountains grew up around us, & above our heads, the sky was painted in purple & pink stripes. From our slow, relaxed ride, we were able to observe sights of the desert we may have missed before: The saguaro filled with holes from owls who had made their homes inside, & a prickly tree whose leaves smelled like soap when you rubbed them between your fingers.
Joseph & me horseback riding in Estrella Mountain Regional Park with Corral West Adventures
As the light faded & we returned our horses to their home, we said a final goodbye to Arizona. We would not be leaving for a few more days, but this time would be dedicated entirely to family whom we so rarely get to see.
I took one last look at the desert landscape, & despite my love for forested mountains & cooler weather, I felt a small twinge of sadness to be leaving so soon. The desert has an unexpected beauty of its own. In this place that seems inhospitable to all, life somehow still flourishes. At first glance, the landscape is brown with just a little muddy orange & red to accent, but when you take a closer look, you see colors you never imagined – bright blues, greens, pinks and oranges paint the trees, flowers & desert fruits. There is such beauty & mystery to this place, & so much more to explore.
As the sun set, I bid the desert farewell, with a quiet promise that we would return again soon, hungry for more adventures.
In 2003, USA Today named Sedona “the most beautiful place on earth,” & after visiting, I have to say it is definitely one of the most striking landscapes I have ever seen. The color of the mint green & teal trees pop against the brick red & burnt orange rock Sedona is known for. Spiky agave plants in the color of cyan dot the landscape of loose, faded orange sand, & all around the town, the tall mountains that stretch up towards the sky have been painted red halfway up, as if God took a step back from his art project halfway through said, “It is finished.”
We left early for Sedona. The world was still dark as we drove through the desert landscape. We watched with tired eyes as the sun rose up behind the purple mountains into the pink & orange striped sky.
Our first stop in Sedona was the trailhead of Devil’s Bridge. I stand corrected about the weather in Arizona in December. It does, in fact, get cold. When we began our hike, the weather was in the 40s, & we were all a little chilly in our hiking clothes as we began the trek towards the bridge.
For over a mile, the hike was mostly flat in soft dirt. We chatted as we walked & admired the scenery – the red canyons & bright green & blue of the trees. I have never seen plants of such a beautiful color, & the red of the rock really made them stand out. When we got to the last half mile, the trail turned to stairs formed from the rock, & then just large rocks that we had to climb to the top.
Devil’s Bridge is a natural sandstone arch in the Coconino National Forest. It was formed from years of wind & weather erosion that only left the top of the structure. From the top, it’s a 54 foot drop, which, despite the bridge being five feet across, still feels daunting when you look over the side.
One by one, we stepped out onto the bridge to get our picture taken by those back on the trail. Standing on the bridge, looking over the desert, was both exhilarating & terrifying. The desert was strikingly beautiful – I could have stayed on that bridge gazing at it for hours. But only one person was allowed on the bridge at once & there was a line of people waiting to get their picture taken in the same iconic spot where the bridge thins ever so slightly & looks even more terrifying.
We headed back to the car to return to town, where we stopped at Berry Divine for a post-hike treat. Berry Divine serves delicious açai bowls topped with multiple combinations of fruit, granola, nuts, coconut oil, chocolate, & more! I have never had a smoothie bowl like it. The açai was the consistency of thick ice cream, & it was both tart & sweet, a delightful contrast on the tongue. I ordered the Red Rock Bowl, which was topped with tart raspberries, goji berry & raspberry puree balanced with sweet banana & crunchy granola. The result was satisfying & surprisingly filling.
At this point, our group split up. We dropped Jake & Jess off to go on a Pink Jeep tour in the desert, & then we picked up Starbucks & went to the trailhead once again, where Mom & Dad dropped us off & then went back to Sedona to walk the town. Coffee in hand, Joseph & I went back on the trails.
We took the Brins Mesa Loop which took us into the mountains & Coconino National Forest. I was stunned to see so much life growing in a desert! All around us, trees grew thick, at some points blocking the red rock from view. We traveled up, covering over 1,000 feet of elevation, all the while stopping to turn on the spot & gaze in wonder at our surroundings.
At the top of our hike, Joseph led us on an impromptu detour. We left the trail to climb up to the top of an outlook point. From our perch, we could see the buildings of Sedona against the backdrop of indigo mountains, the tops of which were hidden by thick, gray clouds. We sat for a moment, looking down over the valley below, before finally scrambling back down the rock face & continuing down the trail.
Climbing up to Soldier’s Pass was no easy feat. The elevation spiked quickly, & we were both out of breath as we climbed up to the cave. To enter, fallen rocks had formed a natural set of stairs. The cave itself was lit by multiple openings that gave gorgeous views of the mountains & trees. We sat in one of the holes to rest & take in the arresting view. Sedona truly is magnificent.
We were running late to meet up with our companions, so we ran the next half mile to the Seven Sacred Pools. Each pool almost perfectly circular, & they stepped down a slope, each holding still water that reflected the sky above. In the desert landscape, they, like the trees, looked out of place, & I was left wondering how such perfect little pools, all lined in a row, had been made in the rock.
We ran the last mile back to the car, & arrived at the trailhead just minutes after our family had arrived to pick us up. Once there, we all agreed to go to Old town Cottonwood for dinner. It’s a small town in the heart of wine country, filled with locally owned shops & charm.
We chose Colt 804 Grill for dinner, & we were not disappointed. The barbecued & smoked meat are cooked to succulent perfection, & each of the homemade sauces offered are unique & mouth-watering. I ordered a cobb salad with smoked bacon & beef brisket, & despite the enormous portion, it was so good I nearly finished the entire bowl.
It was getting dark & cold, but we decided to walk the streets for just a few minutes to take in the sights. Christmas lights lit our way down the busy, small town road. Most of the shops were closed, but we did dip into Verde Valley Olive Oil Traders, attracted less by the little bottles of oils & more by the friendly looking dog inside. After getting our fill of pets & cuddles, we did end up buying a delicious package of peppermint bark fudge for dessert.
The drive home was quiet. We were all tired from our long day. But it was a good tired – one I feel after many of my adventures with Joseph after our full days of hiking & traveling. It was so exciting to be able to experience that with my family as well, & I am looking forward to many more adventures with this awesome group of people. I loved that we started the day together, a few of us stepping a little out of our comfort zones for the hike but enjoying the time with one another. And then I even enjoyed splitting up for the afternoon, each doing the activities that we most love, & then we met up once again to enjoy a meal & share about our days. All during dinner, we were passing around phones, sharing photos as we described in rich detail all of the amazing things we had experienced.
Me at the impromptu outlook point Joseph took us to off the trail
If you have the chance to visit Sedona, I highly recommend it. There is definitely something for everyone there. Whether you want to go out on the trails, window shop in town, or on an adventure in a bubblegum pink jeep, everyone in your group is bound to have fun.
And just once, while you are there, take a step back & just soak in the view. Notice the vibrance of the colors, the sound of the wind in the leaves of trees in what should be a barren landscape, & the smell of sweet desert flowers & fruit. I would go so far to say that visiting Sedona is a spiritual experience. It’s a reminder of just how beautiful life is, & how even in the most challenging & dismaying circumstances, there is always a way to, not just survive, but to flourish & grow into something beautiful.
What do you pack for a trip to Arizona in December? According to the internet, everything. Tank tops & sweaters, bathing suits & gloves – bring a few suitcases & pack generously because you never know what to expect.
It was a late night before the plane trip. Because of a fun, Christmas event at work, I was up late packing. Before I knew it, 1am had arrived, & it was time for me to get ready.
We had a few small disputes among the family on what time to leave for the airport. To err on the side of caution & make sure no one felt anxious about missing the flight, we arrived at the airport an overly responsible two-and-a-half hours early.
We zoomed through baggage claim & security, & then used our extra time to enjoy a relaxed breakfast & coffee before our flight. The world was still dark when we ascended into the sky, perfect for an early morning nap.
We arrived into sunny Arizona by late morning. We were not allowed to check-in to our Airbnb until later in the day, so we went straight to visiting family instead. We met up with my uncle, his girlfriend, & three of his children in their hotel room, & then we all went to my great aunt & uncle’s home for dinner, where we met up with a couple of my mom’s cousins & family friends. We were all gathered together from all over the country for my great uncle’s 87th birthday.
It was fun to spend our first evening just relaxing with family. We spent the time enjoying drinks & good food, chatting & laughing. With thousands of miles dividing us, we hardly ever get to spend time or catch up with these family members, & it is always a joy to hear the stories from the past couple years & reminisce together.
The night grew late far faster than expected, & being awake for over 22 hours on three hours of sleep was taking its toll. We left, yawning & bleary-eyed, & drove through the streets lit bright with Christmas lights to our Airbnb. There is something quite interesting about hearing Christmas music & seeing Christmas decorations in such a hot, dry climate. Whoever said Arizona gets freezing cold in the early morning & late night must have been an Arizona native, because anyone who comes from a climate that actually grows reasonably cold would respectfully disagree. It gets chilly, but shorts & a hoodie still suffice. And to be dressed in summer clothes while experiencing the merriment of Christmas seems a little bizarre. I know many people go somewhere warm for the holidays, but I am a traditional Christmas movie girl & I want the snow, sweaters & pine trees, not sun tan lotion, bathing suits, & palm trees.
We slept in late the following morning to make up for the exhaustion the day previously. Joseph & I started the day with a run in our neighborhood, & then we met up with my uncle, his girlfriend, & our cousins for a trip to the Phoenix Zoo. We walked through the paved streets, peering in at the exhibits & chatting comfortably. The exhibits were nice & appeared comfortable for the animals, but the true attraction was spending time with family.
The sky was still light when the zoo closed, so we decided to go on a little adventure & go to the Hole in the Rock. It’s an easy hike – just over a quarter mile – that leads to a scenic point created by an unusually large hole in the tall rock.
I suppose it was a little too boring for those in our group with overly adventurous spirits. My dad, brother & Joseph decided to take the hike to the next level & climb up the front of the rock structure, which was no easy feat considering the grade of the ascent & my brother’s casual dress shoes. The rest of us walked around the rock structure & walked up the steps in the stone that lead to the wide hole. The setting sun reflected off of the red rock, creating a warm glow that emanated from the hole as we hiked up. Once inside the hole, the rock formed a small cave-like opening with an excellent overhead view of the zoo & dark blue mountains in the distance.
The adventurous ones in our group had climbed higher above the hole, & I, not wanting to miss out on the view, precariously climbed higher. Ankles teetering sideways, body leaning uncomfortably against the rocky structure, I climbed, slipping & sliding, up the side of the rock. My fellow travelers encouraged me, & soon I was settled up at the top, shaky & determinedly staying seated to be sure I would not fall, but feeling accomplished. From here, we could watch the sun disappear behind the faraway peaks & the sky grow a darker indigo.
We began the trek down as the light began to slowly fade. The majority of our group continued back down the way we had come, but the boys, once again, began down the face of the rock, & this time, my brother’s fiancé went with them. Not wanting to be the weakest link of the group, I decided to follow.
Rule number one of hiking: If you don’t think you can hike up the trail, you surely can’t hike back down. You would think that the trek up would be harder, but in truth, it’s the downhill that causes the majority of injuries. It’s much easier to slip & fall down the face of the rocks, & then gravity does its job of pulling you down until you hit something hard enough to stop you, which means it’s also hard enough to hurt you.
A quarter of the way down, I had realized my mistake. I was not wearing my hiking boots, I had zero rock climbing experience, & even more than that, I am afraid of heights. I like my feet on solid ground. Hiking is one of my favorite past times, & I have no problem hiking to high places, as long as my feet are firmly planted on the trail. But as soon as they inch a little too close to the drop, I start to shake.
This time was no different. Paralyzed with fear, adrenaline rushing through me, limbs shaking from the exertion of holding up my own body, I was stuck between swallowing my fear & being a quick learner, or falling down the face of the rock.
Luckily, I had help with me. Joseph, my dad & my brother assisted me step-by-step, helping me see the places to stick my feet & hands & reassuring me that, despite my doubts, my arms were strong enough to hold me when my feet were sliding. Tears springing my eyes, face turning red from exertion & embarrassment as I felt the eyes of everyone in the group on me, I shakily made it to the bottom & collapsed in sobs when I did, both of relief & humiliation.
“I’m so proud of you,” Joseph told me. “You’re so brave.” I did not feel proud, nor did I feel brave. I felt flush with shame & weak from my cowardice.
The members of the group hugged me, & we all went to the car together. Each told me how proud they were of me for climbing down, a feat that a number of others had done without a problem. I gave a shaky smile to each, but all I felt was self-consciousness at best, mortification at worst.
Just before climbing into our van, my dad stopped me & gave me a hug.
“I’m proud of you,” he told me.
“I’m so embarrassed,” I said quietly. “Everyone else did it without a problem.”
“You’ve never done it before, & you faced your fear,” my dad said. “Almost no one faces their fears. You were afraid, but you did it anyway, & that makes you brave.”
We left the rock face & drove back to our Airbnb. The original plan was to hit the grocery store, but it was evident no one really felt like shopping & cooking. A few minutes away from the store, we spotted a roadside taco truck with a permanent concrete sign claiming its location & bearing its name: Baja Tacos. A quick check in with the other occupants of the car revealed this was everyone’s preferred choice, & we quickly spun around & drove to the stand.
Going to an unknown taco truck is always a risk, but in this case, it was a risk worth taking. The food was inexpensive, but in no means cheap. We watched the chef work tirelessly inside the truck as we put in our orders, & a few minutes later, they were handed to us fresh & hot with a plethora of homemade sauces on the side. I ordered the fish tacos with chipotle sauce, which were served with cabbage, pico de gallo & guacamole on a fried corn tortilla.
To say the food was delicious would be an understatement. The flavors melded together to create a symphony on my tongue. It was creamy & crunchy, spicy & tangy, every bite nuanced & just as exciting as the last. And the spice was perfect – the burn built up in the back of my throat & stung my lips as I ate.
We ended the evening with a movie & then headed to bed, our skin sun-kissed goodnight by the desert.
I fell asleep thinking about the day’s events & how it ended. When I was packing for Arizona, I certainly didn’t expect this to be one of the first adventures I experienced. I was thinking of family time & mimosas, not scrambling down the side of a rockface with an expectant audience.
I remembered what my dad had said about bravery, my husband telling me he was proud of me, for doing something that everyone else had done with ease. But then I remembered, not everyone had done it. A few of us, perhaps you would call us brave or maybe even call us stupid, ventured down the rock face. And the achievement was not even the moment we made it down the rock, but that moment we each took a deep breath at the top & decided we were going to attempt it.
We all have different fears in life. Some of them we seem to be born with, & others we are conditioned to from life experiences. Some we call logical fears, & others can’t be explained but terrify us all the same. We react sometimes with tremors & shakes, while other times we become paralyzed & rooted to the spot. What is important in either situation is whether our next step is forward or back. Sometimes we go forth kicking & screaming, while other times, we go forward quietly, tears in our eyes & shaking head to toe. But whether we succeed or fail, we tried, & that’s what matters.
Climb your mountain, or in this case, stumble down into the valley. And if you are lucky enough to have a few loving voices by your side, listen to their words of comfort as you traverse around those dark & scary places where fear resides. It’s always much less scary in the dark when you have someone else by your side.
I love our meticulously planned travels, when we know where we are going & where we will be sleeping every night, but there is nothing more exciting than the spontaneity of a road trip.
For months, Joseph & I were planning to go up to New York for a few days for a wedding. However, it was not until a few days ago that we decided to leave a day early & make an impromptu trip to Delaware.
The day before we left, I did a little research to find a few places where we would want to stop. We packed our bags late Monday night, & then on Tuesday, with bathing suits on underneath our clothes, we headed out in our van to Rehoboth Beach.
We were lucky to have gone on one of the last warm days of the season. The ocean was cool but not unbearably so. We played in the waves with youthful exuberance, remembering the carefree days of our childhoods spent jumping through the waves. When the sun disappeared behind the clouds & goosebumps arose on our arms, we retired from our game & laid on the beach, toes dug into the warm sand, to dry off.
In our hurry to leave our home, we had not eaten much, so we decided to walk along the boardwalk to find some food. Our first stop was Thrasher‘s, a renowned french fry stand. We ordered a small container of fries to share. Immediately upon receiving our food, cawing seagulls began to swoop down over our heads, getting far too close for my comfort. We walked quickly, shielding our fries from their talons, until we were out of their reach. Then we walked while we munched, searching for our next stop among the many shops & restaurants.
Most of the businesses were closed for the season, but we finally settled on Blackwall at the Beach because it served crab cakes, which we both had a hankering for. We ordered the Trident Broiler to share, which came with a fillet of salmon, a large lump meat crab cake, & two small shrimps, served with a zesty roasted corn salsa & a roasted red pepper slice topped with melted Parmesan cheese. The plate had both our mouths watering as soon as it was set before us, & we finished it within minutes. All of the seafood was cooked to perfection, & each part of the dish paired beautifully with the subtly spicy aioli & refreshing basil pesto that were served alongside.
Our stomachs were full, but we thought we would be remiss to leave the boardwalk we both remembered from our childhood without a reminiscent scoop of ice cream. We perused the shops a little longer, dipped into a bookstore to find a few new interesting titles, & then finally settling on Kilwins for our special icy treat.
The locally owned confectionary did not disappoint. I ordered a scoop of the lemon sorbetto, which was thick & creamy, with just the perfect amount of sweet & sour. Joseph ordered a blended scoop of bitter yet sweet cappuccino chip & Kilwins tracks, which was reminiscent of the chocolate-studded favorite, Moose Tracks. We sat on a bench in the fading sunlight to savor our treats before finally heading back to the van.
We bought the van used from my mom months ago with the idea that it would make a great travel vehicle. It’s not yet as decked out in travel comforts as we would like, but it’s still a large enough space for the two of us to fit comfortably to sleep. Joseph found a local beach that allowed overnight parking, & we drove thirty minutes to the serene spot. In the darkness, we walked up to the sand, gazing up in awe of the stars above our head & watching lightning crackling in distance. In the darkness, we couldn’t see the waves, but the sound of the water crashing on the shore was deafening yet pleasant, like listening to a favorite song turned up all the way on headphones.
The only discomfort were the biting flies that would not cease feasting on any exposed skin they could find. When we couldn’t take the nuisances any longer, we returned to the van, moved all of our bags to the front, & laid out our sleeping bag & pillows in the back of the van.
The distant storm had created a humidity in the air that left water dripping down the windows. Our skin sweaty & hot, we debated whether or not to open the windows & invite the flies to join us. Joseph found a way to secure our beach towels overtop open windows, which may have let in a bit of cool air, but mostly the towels just clogged up the gap & left us just as hot as ever. Uncomfortable but exhausted, we both fell into an uneasy sleep.
The night continued to be one of the longest of my life. First & foremost, even with a sleeping bag, the floor of a van does not make a comfortable mattress. Tossing & turning, I felt like I awoke every 20 minutes to reposition my body in an attempt to find a comfortable spot. Meanwhile, the air, which had been unbearably hot to start, chilled as the night went on. By the middle of the night, we had both covered ourselves with blankets & winter jackets to try to stay warm.
When my alarm finally sounded, I awoke feeling tired but resigned to the knowledge that there was no way I was going to get any more rest anyway. We packed up the van & began the bleary-eyed drive to Lums Pond State Park.
The trail was just shy of seven miles around a peaceful, blue lake. The hike had little elevation, so despite the distance, it was not challenging. We spent the time chatting with ease. Most of the hike was the same view of the lake obscured partly by the trees we were trekking through. However, we did finally reach the swamp that the Swamp Forest Trail earned its name from.
When I heard the hike featured a swamp, I was not expecting much, but I was actually pleasantly surprised. The view was stunning. The green water actually looked clean & inviting. Ripples ran along the surface without a sound, blurring the mirrored images of the trees angled overtop its surface. We stood for a moment, soaking in the view before finally turning to walk the few miles back to the van.
For lunch, we decided to go to Market Street in Wilmington, a bustling street with a main-city feel despite being located in the middle of a city. Part of the street had been closed to allow vendors & food trucks to sell their goods. Despite there being a number of restaurants we had heard about, we decided the best taste of local food would be from these brightly colored trucks, so we perused the selection before finally settling on our favorites. Joseph ordered a surf & turf sandwich, a sub roll stuffed with smoked chicken & shrimp smothered in chipotle sauce & sprinkled with bacon, with a side of creamy bacon mac & cheese from a green food truck down the line. Meanwhile, I visited Zaikka, an Indian food truck, & ordered a pita wrap slathered with creamy hummus & topped with lightly fried falafel, lettuce & peppers. We ate at a picnic table, listening to the music blaring from a nearby tent that obliterated any chance for conversation.
The hour was getting late & we still had a long drive to New York, so we decided to find a coffee shop for a little caffeine kick before bidding Delaware farewell. We stopped at Brew HaHa!, a famous Delaware coffee shop serving up some of the best coffee in the state. I never order my coffee with sweetener of any kind, but despite this, the cold latte with almond milk was smooth & light. Brew HaHa! definitely goes on my list of one of the best coffee shops I have been to.
Our time in Delaware was short, but no less special than all of our travels. In fact, I think the short amount of time, & the amount activities we stuffed into it, made it even more exciting. The lack of sleep, scenic views, & unending search for delicious food & coffee are what road trips are made of. It’s a little taste of adventure in what otherwise would have been a day like any other.
However, I am a strong believer that adventures can be found even in the seemingly mundane moments of life. We are all the writers of our own stories, & we can choose the directions they go, what details we choose to focus on, what plot points & characters we choose to pursue. Any day can become an unexpected adventure if you’re willing to think of it that way, & perhaps venture a little outside of your comfort zone. Perhaps it means doing something spontaneous, like a road trip, or just something uncomfortable, like sleeping on the floor of a van. Or maybe it’s just taking note to & giving a little extra appreciation to the moments you don’t normally pay attention to, like the bittersweet taste of coffee. The morning caffeine run or the new restaurant chosen for after-work drinks can be relished for the little joys they are. Life, & all the moments within it, whether they be full of exciting new adventures or comfortable routines, is meant to be fully noticed, experienced & savored.
When your alarm goes off at 3am, you want it to be for something exciting. You don’t want your first reaction to be a pit of terror falling into your stomach. But that’s how my day began.
For the final day of our honeymoon, we had decided to hike at Mount Storm King in Olympic National Park. It was a hike that promised incredible views, but not without anything in return. The first challenge would be to hike two miles straight up – no places to take a break, & no level ground to give you a chance to catch your breath. I knew this part would be challenging, but I was more worried about the second challenge – a trek beyond the maintained trail, to where fellow hikers had set up ropes to help you climb to a rock scramble, which would then take you to the top of the mountain.
As I said in my post yesterday, I do not like heights. I like my two feet firmly planted on solid ground. I enjoy hiking to beautiful, high viewpoints, but I always stand away from the edge where I know my feet won’t slip. So the idea of scaling the side of a mountain with a rope that wasn’t maintained by the official park system terrified me.
Joseph was not afraid at all. Despite the early hour, he bounced around our Airbnb with excitement about the upcoming hike & the incredible view we were going to get of Crescent Lake. Not wanting to make him miss out of the experience, I packed my hiking gear & we headed out to the truck.
The stars in northern Washington are amazing. I gazed up at the night sky as we drove, soaking in their beauty. They provided a great distraction for the majority of our drive, but as we neared the park, my nerves intensified to the point of frightened tears.
I truly wanted to face my fears, & I did not want to disappoint Joseph, so I still insisted we do the hike. We were just about to leave the truck when Joseph frustratedly discovered that our headlamp had died. Walking up the narrow path in complete darkness with just a flashlight was not an option because there would be times we needed our hands free for assistance with climbing. I suggested we wait a little longer for the sun to get just below the horizon, so by the time we would need the headlamp, the world would be lighter. Joseph agreed, & we spent the next half hour gazing up at the stars in the bed of the truck, huddled together to fight against the cold.
When it came time to go, I led the way with the flashlight while Joseph trailed closely behind. Hiking in the woods at night is spooky no matter where you’re headed, so it certainly didn’t help that my nerves were already intensified by our destination. We kept the conversation going to calm our anxious minds, & to potentially discourage any wildlife from getting too close.
Luckily, the sun began to rise not long after we started, & we heard another group of hikers not too far away. It is always encouraging to know you are not alone on potentially dangerous trails.
Despite the difficult grade, the trek up the mountain wasn’t too bad. It passed by quickly with games & conversation. My breath was heavy, but my legs had been conditioned from marathon training & the last few days of hiking, & they carried me up the trail without any trouble.
The sign “End of Maintained Trail” came sooner than I expected. I had almost forgotten what was to come, but as soon as I saw those words, the pit of fear dropped back into my stomach & I felt instantly nauseous.
We carefully stepped beyond the sign & began hiking upwards, watching our feet carefully. I reminded Joseph that this part of the trail was not maintained by National Park Services, so we needed to be extra cautious about where we placed our feet. We could no longer trust that rocks & stones that looked well traversed were trustworthy. At any moment, they could slip, taking us down with them.
I had thought we would arrive at the ropes quickly. I was unaware we had to hike to them, & it was that hike that broke me. The trail was so narrow I could barely fit my two feet beside one another, & to each side, steep drops meant a perilous fall. We were 2,500 feet in the air, enough to cause anyone’s stomach to drop when looking over the edge. Hiking next to the edge, I felt like my stomach simply fell out of my body & down into the valley below.
Heart pumping, legs trembling, & breath shallow, I slowly shifted my feet to climb up the trail. Every few moments, I dropped to my hands & knees to catch my breath, calm my nerves, & carefully crawl over the rocks, trying to look anywhere but down.
Joseph & me at the top of the maintained trail on Mount Storm King overlooking Crescent Lake
Joseph led the way slowly & cautiously, encouraging me every step of the way. We made it a little less than a quarter mile before my body froze beneath me in fear.
“How much farther is it to the ropes,” I asked.
“I don’t know,” Joseph said. “Why don’t you wait here, & I’ll keep going to see if I can see them?”
“No! You can’t go alone!”
“I will be fine.” Joseph turned carefully & began hiking up the rocky slope.
“Please, please be careful,” I called out, & Joseph assured me that he would be. Camera slung over his shoulder, he stepped slowly up the mountain & out of sight, peering around to see the ropes. I waited with bated breath, my heart pounding, waiting to hear any sound of distress & trying to determine what I would do first if I did.
Joseph returned moments later, shaking his head.
“We’re done,” he said. “I can’t see the ropes, but it gets super steep. Let’s go back.” I breathed a shaky sigh of relief, & slowly scooted back down over the rocks, covering my backside in loose dirt. As a comfort to myself, I tend to talk nonstop when I am nervous, often telling jokes, so the next few minutes were filled solely with the sound of my musings on the dangerous hike. It wasn’t until we were safely back on the maintained trail that I stopped & gave Joseph the tightest hug I probably ever have.
“Thank you,” I said. “I wouldn’t have called it because I didn’t want to disappoint you, but I’m so glad you did. I was terrified.”
“It was scary,” Joseph admitted.
“I know you probably would have done it if I hadn’t been there,” I said. “I’m sorry.” I felt ashamed. My own fear had held us back from an amazing view.
“I would have, but who knows what would have happened,” Joseph said. “I wasn’t afraid until I got up there. You didn’t see it, but it got super steep & sketchy, & it was at that moment that I realized something could happen. Up until then, I knew we could do it, but when I saw that trail, I realized there was a possibility that we couldn’t.” He paused. “I’m sorry that I made you come. I feel bad. I knew how scared you were, & I still made you come.”
“No, I wanted to do it!” I said. “I just didn’t want you to be disappointed if I didn’t feel comfortable at the top climbing the ropes.”
Much of the hike down was more of the same sentiments being shared repeatedly. We both were disappointed in our own actions, & we both equally wanted the other person to know that we were okay with what happened.
It wasn’t until we were nearly down the mountain that I realized how important this hike had been for our marriage. Up until now, the honeymoon had been almost complete bliss. We had enjoyed every moment of traveling, & the lessons we learned during our trip were important for us to apply to our individual lives. But this hike had taught us a lesson for our marriage: The ultimate level of trust where we put our lives, including our safety, wants & needs, in each others’ hands.
I was scared to do the hike, but I trusted Joseph would get me to the top safely. I got up early this morning, laced up my hiking boots, and followed Joseph up the mountain despite my fears, planning on never asking to turn around no matter how afraid I was. And when we got there, he proved that he would always look out for me by making the decision to turn around rather than risk falling. Today’s hike had challenged us to look out for one another’s best interests & safety, & despite the fact that we missed out on the view at the top, we were still together. Hand in hand, husband & wife, we both knew through all the great adventures we would have, the best view will always be us standing by each other’s side through all of the exciting & difficult mountain climbs.
Our next stop was Seattle. Because of traffic, we arrived late at the city, so we had just enough time to grab lunch before running to the Space Needle. We went to the Starbucks Reserve, which did not disappoint. It was a bustling hub of creativity & inspiration. The smell of coffee hung in the air, & all around we could hear the sound of beans roasting & people talking excitedly.
Joseph ordered pizza & a cinnamon roll for lunch, & I ordered a chicken & orange salad & a sourdough roll. For coffee, Joseph got a lightly sweetened & nutty hazelnut bianco latte, & I got my usual latte with almond milk. It seemed a little boring to get the same thing as always, but I knew I would love it, & the little milk foam heart on the top made it worth it.
For a fun experience, we ordered an espresso flight with truffles. It was much like a wine tasting, with two small cups of espresso & matching chocolate flavors to go with them. We popped the truffles into our mouths & took large swigs of the hot espresso to experience the full flavor profile, & I can honestly say, it’s some of the most fun I have ever had drinking coffee. Despite how rushed we were, I still took a moment to let the chocolate melt on my tongue & savored the creamy confection in created.
We sped-walked from there to the Space Needle, arriving just in time for our elevator ride up to the top. The entirety of the top rim of the Space Needle is surrounded by glass tilted towards the ground below, so you have to do a bit of a trust fall to lean against it. Looking down on the world from that perch is exhilarating. We both knew if the glass wasn’t there, it would be a nasty fall, but from where we were, we had the best view of Seattle, unobstructed by anything but clear glass that we could barely see even if we focused on it.
We walked down the stairs to the level below, a room with a rotating glass floor. Stepping onto the clear platform & looking down at the ground below was even more disconcerting. The spinning room made both of us feel a little dizzy & nauseous, but we couldn’t resist staying for a few minutes to watch the ground move beneath us.
Our next stop was Chihuly Garden & Glass. I had seen Chihuly’s art in the Fred & Pamela Buffet Cancer Center in Nebraska during my 4K for Cancer journey, & I have continued to periodically think about it over the last two years because of how incredibly beautiful it is. My awareness of blown glass art before witnessing Chihuly’s work was bowls & glasses sold at the Renaissance Festival. Chihuly created an entire garden for the patients at the hospital to enjoy, full of large, brightly colored flowers & intricate chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. When I discovered that Chihuly had a gallery in Seattle, I knew it was a must-see experience.
My reward was seeing the look on Joseph’s face when we walked in. Just as it had been for me the first time I saw Chihuly’s art, Joseph’s jaw dropped & eyes widened as he took in the tall blown glass sculptures & intricate works of art. There is simply no way to encapsulate in words just how gorgeous Chihuly’s work is. Every piece is thoughtfully created, pieced perfectly together. It is intricate art, lovingly created by someone who is clearly a master of his craft.
After exploring the gallery & watching a highly entertaining demonstration, we finally decided to call it a day. The quintessential Seattle rain had begun, & we walked through the streets in a light drizzle, our clothes getting wet but the chill never quite seeping through. We stopped by the original Starbucks as a testament to our love for its coffee & a nod to our souvenir of choice. Unfortunately, they did not have the mug we wanted in stock, but we knew we could get it another time. We ordered takeout sushi from Maneki, the oldest sushi restaurant in Seattle, & then headed to our Airbnb in Kent.
Our host was delightful. She had set out a bottle of sparkling cider & chocolates for us to enjoy, & she kindly let us use her backyard patio & hot tub. We ate our sushi (which truly was the best I have ever had – never have the many different flavors in a roll melded so beautifully together) next to the fire & then dipped into the hot tub for a relaxing soak. We were both exhausted by this point, having been awake & on-the-go for 20 hours after an already sleep-deprived two weeks, so after fighting to stay awake for a few minutes in the hot water, we decided to retire for the evening & go to sleep.
The final day of our honeymoon adventures was exciting in so many different ways, but what I loved most about it was I felt that it helped us to feel ready for our journey home tomorrow, when our married life together will officially begin. The little trust fall (thankfully without actually falling) that we had on our hike this morning taught us more about what it means to be husband & wife, & the day beyond that point was filled with a renewed sense of unity & love that I hope will stay with us long after this adventure ends.
The honeymoon has come to a close, but getting on that plane tomorrow means a lifetime of new adventures with the love of my life. For that, I would be willing to go on hundreds more terrifying hikes, as long as I have him by my side.
We have finally arrived in Washington, which means the honeymoon is nearly over. I can’t believe how fast the time has passed. Nearly two weeks ago, I was standing under an arbor adorned with sunflowers, saying my vows, & since then, I have flown across the country & traveled up the coast from San Diego all the way to Washington, exploring new places & going on new adventures every day.
Today started with a hike at Mount St. Helens. The reddish brown landscape was dotted with a few trees, but still seemed rather barren for Southern Washington. Mount St. Helens towered high above us at an impressive 8,366 feet, about 1,300 feet shorter than it was before the 1980s eruption (USGS). Like Mount Hood, Mount St. Helens is a stratovolcano, & it was dormant since the 1850s until May 1980, when an earthquake triggered the largest landslide ever recorded & a volcanic blast that took the lives of 57 people (EarthSky). Seeing the collapsed face of the volcano was both mind-blowing & haunting knowing the history of the event.
The hike was uneventful. It led us along the landscape around Mount St. Helens all the way to Spirit Lake, so we got a few good views along the way, but nothing as spectacular as climbing the volcano would have been. My favorite view was actually not of Mount St. Helens, but of the many red & yellow flowers that grew alongside the trail next to Spirit Lake. With colorful flowers in the foreground, a blue mountain range in the background, & a still, serene lake in the middle, I thought it was the best view of the day.
After hiking, we ate a quick lunch at the truck & then started our long drive to Port Angeles. Mount St. Helens is near the bottom of Washington, & Port Angeles is at the top, so we had a lot of ground to cover. We listened to music & chatted to pass the time, every so often gazing out the window in wonder at the beautiful views. The West Coast really is everything I ever wanted it to be. The mountain-dominated views are stunning, the air is clean, & the water is somehow bluer than it is in Maryland. It is truly spectacular.
We stopped by our Airbnb first to drop off our belongings. The private suite was in a wooden home designed to look like a log cabin. The outdoorsy yet cozy ambience made us feel right at home.
We showered quickly & then headed to Dupuis’ Restaurant, the oldest restaurant in the area. It has been in operation for 101 years, & we sat at a booth that has been there since the beginning. The food can be best described as Washington’s version of southern comfort. We ordered large, Dungeness crab cakes that were so soft & buttery, I didn’t even mind that they weren’t the Maryland version. They were served with a fruit compote that paired beautifully & was delicious all on its own – I saved it to smear on my soft, honey-buttered roll. For dinner, Joseph ordered fish & chips that was fried to perfection, & a small bowl of chicken noodle soup with soft, homemade noodles. I ordered sauteéd prawns that were served in herbed butter with a warm rice pilaf & a side salad. The meal was satisfying & hearty, the perfect end to a long day.
After dinner, we drove into Port Angeles, a town situated beside the water at the very top of Washington. From the pier, we could see the lights across the water from Canada’s coast. I had never been so far North in the United States before, & seeing another country so close was for some reason a very exciting experience.
Many of the shops were already closed, so we just walked around in the chilly night air to take in the sights. The water was calm & the sound of the waves lapping at the land were soothing.
We didn’t stay long because we had made very early plans for the following morning. To make the most of the final day of our honeymoon, we had decided to wake up at 3am to hike Mount Storm King in Olympic National Park before heading to Seattle for the day. The hike was going to be challenging with a daunting end. After two miles headed straight up (at an 18% grade!), the end of the hike promised beautiful views, as long as you were willing to take a risk. Beyond the end of the maintained trail, fellow hikers had set up ropes to aid you in climbing up to the top of the mountain peak.
To be honest, I am terrified. I do not like heights. I hiked Angel’s Landing in Zion two years ago, & it took a lot of convincing to get me to the top. When I finally did muster the courage to attempt the narrow climb, my sweaty hands clinging as hard as I could to the chain provided, I made it to the top literally on my hands & knees, trembling & unwilling to even crawl to the edge. But I made it, & at Joseph’s excited insistence, I agreed to attempt to climb Mount Storm King.
It will be, after all, the final day of our honeymoon, after a two-week adventure, & we would like to end it with a moment & a view we will always remember. I just really hope this adventure doesn’t have any unexpected challenges because the ramifications could mean an end to our explorations.
The Little Blue Engine by Shel Silverstein
The little blue engine looked up at the hill.
His light was weak, his whistle was shrill.
He was tired & small, & the hill was tall,
And his face blushed red as he softly said,
“I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.”
So he started up with a chug & a strain,
And he puffed & pulled with might & main.
And slowly he climbed, a foot at a time,
And his engine coughed as he whispered soft,
“I think I can, I think I can, I think I can.”
With a squeak & a creak & a toot & a sigh,
With an extra hope & an extra try,
He would not stop - now he neared the top -
And strong & proud he cried out loud,
“I think I can, I think I can, I think I can!”
He was almost there, when - CRASH! SMASH! BASH!
He slid down & mashed into engine hash
On the rocks below…which goes to show
If the track is tough & the hill is rough,
THINKING you can just ain’t enough!
Joseph & I both jumped out of bed late this morning in a panic. We had missed our alarm & woken up late. We rushed out of our Airbnb, leaving at the time we were supposed to start hiking at the park, which we still had to drive two hours to reach.
Our plan was to hike Mount Hood. We didn’t plan to reach the top – to summit, we needed a permit & gear that we didn’t currently have. But we still wanted to hike up the side as far as we could to see the view.
Mount Hood has a truly commanding presence. Standing nearly 8,000 feet in the sky, its gray peak draped with snow, towers over everything else in the landscape.
The first bit of the trail was challenging but not difficult. We chatted as we climbed over fallen trees & admired the view. The trail had been marked as strenuous, which seemed inappropriate until we realized that over half of the elevation (over 1,000 feet) was reserved for the final half-mile of the trek upwards. We slipped & slid on the face of the mountain as we scrambled over rocks & climbed over precariously stacked boulders. At times, it was difficult to see if we were still on the trail from our precarious perch.
Our exhausting trek was rewarded when we reached McNeil Point. Clothes & boots covered in dust & faces streaked in dirt, we stood, out of breath, watching hawks soar beneath us in the valley below. From our height, the trees looked like shrubs in comparison to Mount Hood’s tall peak, which still towered high above us. Bright flowers were sprinkled all along the side of the mountain, while in the distance, we could hear water cascading down the mountainside from the melting snow above.
It was tempting to keep climbing the mountain to see more of the view, but we were already running late to drive to Portland for the evening. Summiting was still not even a possibility, even if we cancelled are plans, but it still managed to continue to come up in conversation as we began the walk back down.
With aching feet & tired legs, we rushed back to the truck & started the drive to Portland. We had been out of service all day, so I hurriedly texted our Airbnb host with our updated arrival time & my friend & 4K for Cancer teammate, Madison, with our updated travel plans. Mads lives in Portland, & we had made plans to meet her for dinner. Luckily, our late arrival worked with everyone’s plans, & we still had time to stop at our Airbnb & shower before we went to dinner.
I had not seen Mads in nearly two years, both because of the distance between us & COVID-19. Seeing her again after all this time & once again hearing her infectious laugh brought such joy to my heart. She treated Joseph & me to dinner at Grassa, a local Italian restaurant that serves inventive, homemade pasta dishes. I ordered the Spaghetti Al Pesto, which was rigatoni noodles laden in rich olive oil & homemade basil pesto, sprinkled with toasted hazelnuts, & topped with zucchini strips, basil & creamy mozzarella. Joseph ordered the Pork Belly Mac & Cheese, & we got a side of big meatballs in marinara sauce to share. Mads ordered the Cacio E Pepe, a truffle butter pasta topped with grana cheese.
We sat outside & enjoyed the small town feel of Northwest Portland. Conversation lingered on all of our latest travels – the honeymoon for Joseph & me; Alaska, West Virginia, & many more for Mads. We caught up about the latest in our careers & lives. Mads works at Nike as a Design Engineer, but she also recently began coaching a high school cross country, which is a great fit for her. During our run across the country, Mads was one of our team directors, meaning she helped lead our team through that physically & mentally demanding journey. Her energetic & kind spirit helped us feel at home when we were all so far away.
After dinner, Mads led us up the street to Salt & Straw, an iconic Portland spot that serves imaginative ice cream flavors. In addition to their regular menu, they have a new theme every month which offers a selection of new ice cream flavors. This month’s theme was Camp, which featured Salted Hazelnut Praline S’mores, Cowboy Coffee Grinds & Bourbon, Maple & Bacon Streusel, & Mushroom Muddy Buddies, as well as Bug Juice! Sorbet. Mads ordered the Bug Juice! Sorbet, while Joseph ordered a split scoop of the Cowboy Coffee Grinds & Bourbon & the Maple & Bacon Streusel. I couldn’t help blending two flavors as well & ordered the Bug Juice! Sorbet along with the Strawberry & Coconut Water Sherbet, both of which were vegan.
I have honestly never tasted creamier, more delicious ice cream. The Strawberry & Coconut Water Sherbet was full of sweet, strawberry flavor balanced by the refreshing subtle notes of coconut. Despite the creamy consistency, the first word that came to mind when I tasted the Bug Juice! Sorbet was “juice.” It was a fruity blend fo cherry & grape with just hints of sour lime. The two flavors paired perfectly – I finished my scoop much too fast & wanted to return inside immediately to try more flavors.
The night was ending quickly, so we gave Mads a bittersweet farewell & headed back to our Airbnb to crash for the evening. All along the drive, our conversation traveled between our long hike today, & how we still want to one day summit a mountain, & my 4K journey, which now after two years is still one of the most difficult yet rewarding things I have done in my life.
4K was much like traversing my own mountain. All along the way, there were beautiful views, but the trek was still challenging & left me feeling exhausted but exhilarated at the end. And then, after the summit, the climax of reaching home, the descent was still difficult & less enjoyable. Leaving all the people I had spent seven weeks with & returning to normal life came with its own challenges. Luckily, I had people like Joseph to walk through the descent with me, which always makes the journey down the mountain seem quicker & more enjoyable.
While climbing the mountain today, I was reminded of a poem by Shel Silverstein that I read as a kid & thought about during 4K. The Little Blue Engine always seemed to be discouraging, but I think today I understand it as actually validating. There are some mountains in life that we summit, & then there are mountains that, as much as we want to & think that we could, we just can’t reach the top. Sometimes we have to put in more hard work, much like I did on 4K. But others, like the mountain today, perhaps we were never meant to summit, but to just enjoy the view during our journey. Not all mountains are meant to be climbed. For some, we just have to appreciate how grand they are & remind ourselves that it’s okay if we don’t succeed at everything we try to do in life. Our strength is not measured on the mountains we summit, but in our character when we attempt to climb them.
The thing that struck me most about The Little Blue Engine is that he tried to conquer the entire mountain by himself. For all the mountains I have ever summited in my life, I always had other people there, either climbing with me or cheering me on. I could not have made it through 4K without my teammates running with me. I would not be where I am today without my family & friends who have supported me all these years. And there are so many mountains I am facing now, both literally & metaphorically, with Joseph by my side.
Mountains aren’t meant to be faced alone. The journey is so much more fun when there are other people on it with you, & the summit looks even more beautiful when you have someone you love by your side.
Traveling into Oregon, the thing that struck us first was the smoke.
It hung low in the air, obscuring the views of mountains in the distance & leaving a lingering smell of ash.
Our first stop was Crater Lake. The hike was short but strenuous, straight up a rocky trail with a sharp drop to both sides. A wrong step could mean a nasty fall. Though my breaths were heavy & exhausted, I could not help continuing to exclaim how beautiful the view was. Blue mountains overlapped in the distance while pine trees stood tall below. Between the rocks, yellow & red flowers dotted the side of the mountain & swayed in the breeze.
When we finally reached the top of our hike, we teetered towards the edge, taking in the view of the still, blue lake surrounded on all sides by tall, forested mountains. Interrupting the glassy appearance of the water was one, small mountain that grew out of the center of the lake.
Crater Lake was a place we had been looking forward to visiting for the promised majestic views. And it was beautiful, but I cannot even imagine how stunning it would have been without the tint of gray that hung over the entire landscape, sometimes so thick that we couldn’t see the blue lake below.
When our thirst for the lake view had finally been quenched, we started slowly back down the side of the mountain, still stopping every once in a while to gaze out at the arresting views. When we arrived back at the truck, we ate a quick lunch & then began the long drive to Hood River.
Until today, I was not aware that Mount Hood is not just any mountain – it’s a potentially active stratovolcano, meaning it is an elevation of the earth’s crust built by layers of lava & ash. According to ScienceDaily, stratovolcanoes have occasional, explosive eruptions, but the lava is so viscous (meaning it is a thick & sticky consistency) that it does not travel far before hardening completely. Mount Hood has not had a major eruption since the 1790s (U.S. Geological Survey [USGS]).
Mount Hood is our destination for tomorrow, but it still dominated our landscape today with its commanding presence. Mount Hood stretches nearly 8,000 feet into the sky, but its total height is actually over 11,000 feet (USGS, Peakbagger). It is the 28th most prominent peek & the 13th highest point in the United States (USGS).
It was difficult to capture the view in our cameras. The gray of the mountain blended with the gray of the sky, so we accepted this view as just for us & simply appreciated its beauty during our drive.
Our Airbnb was incredible! We had gotten a master suite with a private bathroom, walk-in closet (that we didn’t use), a large bedroom, & a separate room with couches, TV & a fireplace. Downstairs was a home theatre, a gym, &, our favorite addition, a heated pool! Joseph & I didn’t have the chance to do much swimming this past summer, so before we headed to dinner, we both couldn’t resist a dip in the water. We splashed around for a bit, & then changed into nicer clothes for a dinner at Hood River.
A lot of the restaurants were closed because of COVID-19 or Labor Day weekend. We had initially wanted to go to pFriem Family Brewers, but they were full. Luckily, the hostess had a wonderful recommendation for another local restaurant not far away – Riverside. There was a bit of a wait, so Joseph & I took the opportunity to walk around Hood River & watch the setting sun over the water.
I have never seen such a beautiful & yet devastating view. The sun had turned burnt orange & barely managed to light the sky. Instead of its normal glowing rays, it was a perfect sphere, so much so that I could have mistaken it for the moon. During our walk, it hung low just above the mountain tops, where it reflected into the rippling water below. It was a picturesque view, yet we both knew it was caused by the raging wildfires not far away.
We had been seeing this type of sun now for months off & on, all the way across the country in Maryland, but this was the first time I had seen it so clearly & truly taken in what this view meant. Now realizing this, I wondered just how far away this type of sun could be seen. Was it visible in other countries? Could you see it across the globe? It was as if the earth knew one part of it was in pain, & it wanted to let the rest of the world know. Ironically, it seemed like it was earth’s way of sending smoke signals.
We ended our evening at Riverside for a delicious dinner all made with fresh, local ingredients. It started with the best bread I have ever tasted (which they make in house every day), served with olive oil & balsamic vinegar. I have to say, I am part Italian, so I have had this appetizer many times before, but never has it tasted so amazing. For an appetizer, we ordered bacon wrapped dates, which were served stuffed with marcona almonds & soaking in honey. It was the perfect blend of sweet & salty, with a lovely nutty finish.
For dinner, I ordered the stuffed piquillo peppers, which were soft, roasted peppers stuffed with creamy quinoa & roasted vegetables & drizzled with a creamy, spicy, orange sauce. The dish was entirely plant-based, which is a diet I try to mostly stick to when I am home but have been breaking for this occasion because it isn’t the easiest to keep while traveling. I was wary of ordering the dish because I often find restaurants struggle to enhance the flavors of plain vegetables & grains without meat or dairy, but this dish was delicious & one I would definitely order again.
The restaurant was directly beside Hood River, which provided a gentle breeze & a lovely ambience for our evening. Just beside us was the bridge that led from Oregon to Washington, & throughout the evening, we watched the cars’ lights reflect in the still water below & listened to the sounds of a distant train in Washington chugging by. We were also supposed to be able to see Mount Hood from where we were sitting, but once again, the smoke had obscured this view.
Often on my blog, I talk about the importance of self-love & loving others. Today, what struck me most is how important it is to love our planet. The earth is literally on fire right now, & many of us, myself included, are just continuing on with our daily lives.
I think for me, one of the hardest things is that I don’t know what to do to help, & when I think of ideas, I’m not sure what kind of difference they will make. I am not a firefighter – I can’t help fight the wildfires. I am not a politician, so I can’t help write legislation that will change carbon emissions or make us more eco-friendly as a country. I am not an engineer, so I can’t help make cars that run on electricity or homes that run on solar power.
But I think the most important thing to remember is that we all do play a role. Every little bit makes a difference, & some of the changes can be simple to make. Maybe it isn’t realistic for you to carpool to work, but maybe you can be more mindful of unplugging electronics you aren’t currently using in your home. Maybe you don’t want to eat plant based, but you could switch your household cleaners to eco-friendly ones. There are so many ways to help save this planet, & it’s good for you, too! I forgot how much better my body feels after eating a plant-based meal, but today, I was reminded of how often what’s best for us & the planet overlap.
Even when we are on the road traveling, we have two homes: Our body & the earth. Make sure you are loving them both the way they deserve.
The air is crisp & clean. It’s icy fingers stretch down into my lungs, freezing my chest but for some reason making me want to breathe in deeper. The sky is gray. Dense clouds hang low above our heads. The smell of pine lingers, foreshadowing the coming colder season. In the distance, I can hear small animals chattering to one another & scuttering along the forest floor.
I outstretch one hand & run it against the rough bark of the tall, majestic giant standing before me. The tree seems to almost radiate a reddish glow, filling my chilly form with a wondrous warmth. I look up. From where I stand, I can just barely see where the top branches reach the sky above.
I wrap my arms around the trunk. They do not even travel halfway around its base. I press my ear against the bark & pull my chest in closer, listening for the hum inside, matching the beat of my heart to the beat of the life inside this ancient resident of earth. It has been standing here since long before I was even imagined, & it will remain here long after I leave this world, every year growing a little taller, a little wider, a little stronger, a little more majestic.
When I was a little girl, I was infatuated with trees. I imagined that I could talk to them, & I would spend hours playing outside with my imaginary friends in the forest. And the trees I dreamed most of meeting were the stately redwood trees in California.
I have finally arrived, nearly 20 years later, & while I am older & wiser now, I do still wonder what these trees would tell me if they could talk. What would they say, after seeing the earth change over the last few thousand years, to someone like me, who can’t even comprehend how long that actually is?
Perhaps they would tell me that life is so much simpler than I make it to be. That in that forest, as much as the world seems to be different, a lot has also remained the same. We all grow, we breathe, we love, & we die. Everything else is not required. When compared to all that has happened on planet earth, the things I worry about in my daily life would not even equate to the width of one ring in their trunk. It does not mean those things are meaningless, but perhaps they are also not worth the worry lines in my own face. Life is beautiful & meant to be savored.
So, when the busyness seems to consume you, & the worries of life are all you can think about, come back to this place. Center yourself. Feel the sun on your skin, the beat of your heart, the air moving in & out of your lungs. Ponder your humanity, & how fleeting it is, & remember that is one of the things that makes it beautiful. Stand tall & grow with confidence. And finally, know that your life is deeply rooted to many others who were here long before you, & who will be here long after you are gone, & that alone gives your fleeting existence on this earth meaning & purpose.
Joseph & I spent the day today exploring Redwood National & State Parks – we did a 13-mile-hike, & then drove, exhausted, to our Airbnb in Medford, Oregon, where we crashed for the night. In lieu of trying to capture every little detail of our day, in which it seemed nothing much happened, I though it better to capture what I felt during our hike, gazing at those majestic trees & feeling the sense of wonder I always had as a little girl when I saw pictures of them.
There is a famous saying that claims once you leave home, you can never go back. It wasn’t until I was an adult who returned to living at home during the pandemic that I understood this phrase. You can always go back, but it’s not the same as it was. You can’t go back to being a kid. The memories you have growing up in your childhood home are completely different from the new ones you make when you return.
I think this is true of all memories, not just the ones compartmentalized to your childhood home. Any significant period of your life has a certain magic to the memories. But, returning to that place does not make the magic come back. Just a quick visit to your old high school is a great example of this. You can walk the halls, talk to old teachers, sit on the bleachers where you cheered during football games & maybe snuck your first kiss, but it doesn’t feel the same as it did in those four short years of your life when you felt invincible.
I remember how that first run felt. I remember the exhilaration & the excitement I experienced, unsure yet what the summer would bring but knowing the journey ahead would be momentous & memorable.
Today’s run was not momentous. We stood in that chilly, misty San Francisco air just as I had done before, clicked our watches to start tracking our run, & started the trek up the steep hill to the bridge. It took my breath away, just as it had before, & my legs sighed in relief when we reached the flatter grade of the bridge. The mist was so thick, the long suspension ropes leading to the tall, red towers disappeared entirely into a thick cloud above our heads.
The run across the bridge was fast, & before I knew it, we were back at our car, starting the long drive north to the Redwoods National & State Parks. As we drove over the bridge we had just run across, a bittersweet feeling seeped into my stomach. I had wanted to relive the memory, but this was simply just revisiting. My team members were not here with me, & we were not about to travel across the entire country, our legs carrying us & hearts keeping us going in the fight against cancer.
Me after running across the Golden Gate Bridge today
The drive to the redwoods was uneventful but exciting. I have wanted to see the redwood trees since I was a little girl & read about them in a book. When I had participated in the 4K for Cancer run, I had been disappointed that I came all the way to California & missed seeing the majestic trees.
Our Airbnb was a camper within Redwood National & State Parks. We got settled into what was by far the most unique Airbnb we had stayed in yet, & then drove off into the setting sun to just catch a glimpse of the views we planned on hiking to tomorrow.
To say that redwood trees are big is an understatement. They are enormous. Our entire wingspan combined didn’t even stretch around half of the base of one of the trees. The trees reached high into the sky as well, basking in the sun’s light. Inside, all I felt was the giddy joy of my 5-year-old self, finally standing at the foot of the redwood trees I had read about.
Memories cannot be relived, but that’s what makes them so special. You only get to have one first kiss or one first dance. You only have your first day at school, your first time you win an award, your first time running across the Golden Gate Bridge, & your first time seeing a redwood tree. But what makes those moments memorable is the fact that they only happened once, or because they it was the start of something special that happened again & again. It was the start of a your first cross country adventure. It was the start of your career. It was the start of your love story.
Running across the bridge & experiencing Joseph’s first time traversing it had been fantastic & memorable in its own way. It was not the same as running it with my team, but it wasn’t supposed to be. That moment is sacred & special in its own way, & it should stay that way.
One of the best things about memories is that we are always forming new ones. Dreams are fulfilled, goals are accomplished, & sweet surprises fill our lives every day. Today, wrapping my arms around the redwood tree, feeling the rough bark beneath my fingertips & ear pressed against the trunk, listening for the hum of life inside, was a dream come true & a memory I have been waiting to create for years.
Remembering may be bittersweet, but the new memories I am creating in this moment – life has never tasted sweeter.
