Really WILD

If you’ve seen the Reese Witherspoon movie “Wild”, you’ve found a very poor rendition of the Cheryl Strayed book about one woman’s quest to find something, anything of meaning on the Pacific Crest Trail – a grueling 2600-mile trail through some of the harshest conditions imaginable over a 6 or 7 month timeframe.  And while I herald the book as a true memoir of overcoming the harshest trail/trial anyone can ever tame – life, I sometimes feel like it sensationalized Cheryl’s real story into being so far out there, so unbelievably believable that she has to stand alone as the one true guide to what my friend Kristin today penned “Hiking is Healing”.

But Cheryl wasn’t the only one who ‘strayed’.  

I met Kristin last fall in Utah on a weeklong trip through Zion and Bryce Canyon National Parks.  There were many wonderful people on that trip.  I went alone to seek closure to the pain I had been carrying since the divorce.  I only spent a small amount of time around her, but we bonded in some way and kept in touch over the last year.  

Her journey is still very new to me, but I feel like we share a spirit.  A downtrodden, stuck in the f*cking mud, ultimately won’t give up (though we’ve tried several times) spirit that just won’t let us GO AWAY!  We’re here.  Kristin has that quiet resolve that I glimpsed in Utah, but have seen more as we’ve talked about hiking, life, the journey.  She’s not completed the PCT, but she’s still at it.  She’s also fighting to conquer some pretty harsh hills in her life, but I am watching, waiting for her to get over those.  

I’ve taken a keen interest in my friend.  I follow her right alongside my friend Ryan, who just finished the 2100-mile Appalachian Trail.  They have a wonder about them.  A set of Gypsy Souls that have never met, they only wrap together through me.  They are both strong.  Resilient.  Yet I’ve heard them both talk of leaving the trail.  Quit.  “I’m done.”

I sat down with Ryan before he started his journey.  We had only hiked together one time.  An ill-fated, rainy backpacking trip through Panthertown Valley in North Carolina.  He was in the early stages of learning bushcraft, yet in denial of his alcoholism.  He attempted the AT at the end of his marriage, trying to find some kind of peace, but ended up failing.  He stopped.  He walked away.  We talked before this second attempt.  He has wisdom in his eyes now, and even though he had set-backs along the trail, he finished at the end of August.  Katahdin.  The northern terminus (end) of a journey that I know from following him through his writings and posts on Facebook, was full of deep transcendence.

Hiking Heals.  Ok, take the word Hiking and insert your word. Yoga.  Running.  Cycling.  Swimming.  Advanced Water Polo?  We were made to move.  And we were made in spirit.  We breathe in oxygen and expel the toxins.  We sweat and cleanse.  We walk.  We run. We live.

But how can we live without taking care of our spirit, our body, our mind?  

(For the Christians, what if it's this way… God = Mind, Jesus = Body, Spirit = well, Spirit! You can’t truly believe without feeding EVERYTHING that was given to you, can you?)

You can’t.  Kristin has told me a little of her story.  Enough for me to know that she needed to find peace.  And isn’t that something that we all, no matter what your belief system, are looking for?  I don’t need to be happy.  Happiness is a carnival ride that is great to ride, but if all you do is ride it over and over, you’ll find yourself hugging the porcelain king and regretting that you didn’t go hold Sally Nelson’s hand on the love tunnel a time or two.  Peace is deeper.  Content within the times of struggle.  Joyful when respite is found.

I spoke with her tonight, and I’m going to follow up and learn more.  Our stories of survival, searching, saving our lives may not be in a book or a movie, but I am blessed to know others who are finding their way.  Not perfectly, but perfectly flawed and still getting up every time they fall.