Kym Wylder
The image captures a breathtaking scenic view of a verdant mountain landscape. In the foreground, a hiker wearing a backpack is standing on a trail, admiring the stunning natural surroundings. The trail winds through lush vegetation and wildflowers, leading to a pristine lake nestled amidst towering snow-capped mountains. The lake's crystal-clear waters reflect the majestic peaks, creating a mirror-like effect. Dense evergreen forests cover the mountainsides, adding depth and richness to the scene. The vivid colors, from the vibrant greens of the vegetation to the deep blues of the sky and lake, create a visually striking contrast. The image exudes a sense of tranquility and serenity, inviting the viewer to immerse themselves in the beauty of nature.

Letting Go of Burdens on the Trail

I used to pride myself on how big and heavy my pack was. "Look how strong I am; I can carry all this," I thought, toughing it out through my time outdoors, trying to prove I belonged, was capable, was worthy. But last year on the Wonderland Trail (9 days, just shy of 100 miles), everything changed. By day 3, I discovered I had toe arthritis, and the pain was so intense I kept stopping to massage my feet. As I lay on my back, contemplating quitting, surrounded by my gear and food cache, an older woman in her mid-60s approached me. "You okay?" she asked. I learned she hailed from Alaska, a place dear to my heart. I shared my predicament, and she immediately identified it as arthritis (she was right). She gave me Tylenol, told me ibuprofen wouldn’t help, and then asked, "Who are you trying to prove anything to by carrying so much stuff?" "You’re out here, day 3 already, not crying. You’re tough. I assume you do this often, and you’ve already carried this weight over your life. You have nothing to prove. Do it like a woman. Put down the weight you’re carrying, store your fears and extras in your cache, and pick them up at the end." I followed her advice. I finished the Wonderland Trail, got Tylenol from fellow travelers, and retrieved about 8 lbs of gear I'd left in the cache after completing the trail. We carry our fears, our hardships, our pain, our troubles. We carry the weight of the world on our backs. Trevor Hall sings, "Put down what you are carrying." It became my anthem for the trail. Since then, I’ve gone ultralight, with my pack now under 25 lbs for up to 3 nights, even with a bear canister. I have everything I need plus some creature comforts, but no longer do I pack my fears and excess weight just to prove I can. I already did. Now I hike like a woman, light and soft through nature and the trails of life. And I haven’t experienced arthritis pain since last August. You’ll go the distance and suffer less pain when you put down what you are carrying, both on the trail and in life.

You might also like...