The outdoors can be a dangerous place and fear might initially keep you from trying new things. So here are four reasons why you should do it scared.
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The three of us hiked side-by-side across 900 miles of desert and Sierra Nevada. We learned how to self arrest on Baden Powell, soaked our sore feet in hot springs, screamed when we saw rattlesnakes, and shared meals, motel rooms, and late-night movies.
Our time together on the Pacific Crest Trail felt like a dream — until it suddenly ended.
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Morally, I struggled to tear my focus away from the genocide in Gaza and leave my community to complete my climb. Back home, I’m met with blank stares and confusion — mountaineering being a far cry from what my priorities should be as a single 28-year-old woman. I’ve never been able to explain the passion I feel as I gaze up at the highest peaks in the world.
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But ask a New England surfer about the changing seasons. It’s more likely they’ll mark this same passage of time by the thickness of their neoprene wetsuit. They surf year-round, making the most of the sometimes harsh and unforgiving winters. New England surfers simply add millimeters of neoprene the way hikers add base layers. For a lifelong Californian born and raised in “sunny San Diego,” my first winter in Rhode Island was eye opening.
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It took me years to notice and acknowledge the strength I carried in my body. That day, I don’t think I gave a second thought to my appearance or how my stomach looked. I just felt free.
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When my Mom, a Salvadoran immigrant, was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease (PD) at 65, I never imagined that a year later, she'd be scaling 60-foot walls with the grace and determination of a seasoned climber. Hers is a story of resilience, community, and the unexpected joy found in facing challenges head-on.
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We even had a group hang out where we just aired all of the ignorant things that other people had said to us. At first we were angry, but anger turned to action and we ended up practicing how to de-escalate and redirect with one another, as we each took turns being the aggressor.
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To pretend that trail and ultrarunning are welcoming to all is the same as racing with a torn Achilles. You wouldn’t do it.
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I am a middle-aged woman who happens to skydive instead of woodworking, riding a motorcycle or one shot D&D campaigns. How to explain any of this to a stranger who is primed to misunderstand? Oh, I don’t.
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Where the current pulled left, the water darkened. To my front and right, I could see slivers of light and air bubbles at the edges of the fishbowl’s rim. Water and air were being mixed and pushed downstream from the ledge. That must be where the real air is. At the surface.
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However, I was still so angry that I really wanted to hit something (or everything), but I didn’t know how to punch at all. So with stitches still in my leg and still weak from chemotherapy, I went downtown and limped into the Cleveland Boxing Club.
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Solo backpacking is life lived on your own terms. You are free to come and go at your will and dial the difficity to the level you want. You are experiencing life boiled down to its purest form, with nothing but your shoes, your wits, and your thoughts to guide you through your journey.
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Chemo Brain. It’s a real thing. Chemo brain is when you lose your memory, permanently or temporarily. For me, I can barely remember the 6 months before starting chemo, most of the chemo months are gone, and several months after chemo are also gone.
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Some people ask why am I so crazy about training and climbing. My response is, it's my reason for living. I see in most people’s eyes that they think I’m being dramatic, and I usually leave it at that. But for the select few that I share my full story with, I like to believe they can appreciate where I am coming from.
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