It’s daunting, camping at a trailhead again.
Ten days ago, I had walked a total of 200 metres and decided I needed a break from trail.
Only ten days, and yet it feels an age since I was in the backcountry, hiking.
Ten days since I’ve blown up my Thermarest NeoAir mattress.
Ten days since I’ve cooked on my JetBoil Minimo stove.
Ten days since I’ve lit up a campsite with my Goal Zero lantern.
Ten days since I’ve thought about any of this gear, about my pack weight, about what time I should set my alarm to ensure I can get through the mileage and reach camp still in daylight.
It’s been a long ten days.
It’s been a short ten days.
And here I am: back at the trailhead. It’s a different spot from where I left off – two states away – but it’s a significant trailhead.
This mile marks the point my hike became SOBO (southbound). From here, I can no longer enthusiastically answer “Canada!” when people ask me where I’m headed to. Instead, my answer is an out-of-the-way pass, just north of Lake Tahoe and just west of Truckee, and Reno, Nevada.
I officially can no longer say,
“I’m walking from Mexico to Canada.”
I know it’s semantics: I’m still walking a path between Mexico and Canada, but it feels kinda messy to me. And not getting to the northern terminus is a frustration I’m going to have to come to terms with (and complete another day!).
For now, though, for tonight, as I fall asleep here, I reunite myself with my love:
Here I am, trail.
I lay at your feet, and nervously try to sleep for the big day tomorrow: the beginning of a new big, important, colourful, mysterious chapter.
I pray you accept me.
Tenderly beckon me onward, always further.
And I pray am enough.
That I continue to show up each day: eager and willing, and full of joy.
Here is my all.
Join me in a partnership, as we work to walk our journeys and weave our stories together.
Thank you for all you have given me.
Thank you for all you have yet to give.
Here I am.