Making this journey possible

It is fairly frequent that I write about hiking, and always, it’s more than that. Because there are analogies with life and grief that shouldn’t be ignored. And because, maybe in part for that reason, hiking has been part of my journey especially these past four years. So with that in mind, I invite you to keep reading. This isn’t just about hiking.

I hike multiple times a week, because I can and I must. It keeps me grounded, which is exactly how I like to be. It is in my nature to feel stable, realistic, and calm. And when I feel this way, I believe it’s when I am at my best for myself and to serve others.

There’s a lot of variety in the trails I choose. Some are easily accessible and could be managed by most who have the ability to walk and breath. Some are challenging or even damn hard. And some would be considered remote because they are in wilderness or at high elevations. My favorite place is above tree line, that’s 11,500 feet. You can see forever.

I recently hiked a trail called Second Creek to Twin Cones. I had enjoyed this trail the previous year – it made my top ten favorites of 2022. I was eager for summer conditions so I could return and be reminded of what I loved there. I found it to be true again. It was calming and beautiful. And the most glorious place for wild columbine.

One of the many things that grounds me while hiking is the lack of connection to anything else other than what is before me. It is said that hiking is generally a great way to practice being present, because it is important to be aware of your surroundings and be ready to respond quickly. While my eyes and ears are always on my surroundings, my mind does wander occasionally. Mostly I think it’s because all the clarity that comes when the noise is gone. Nature is a good place to think, without agenda.

On this recent hike, I found myself wondering, who was the first person to walk this line? And why did they do it? When does a path transition from one used for need or for exploration. When is a trail officially constructed for recreation?  I know there are important things to be considered in trail construction – history, safety, protection of plant and animal life, and minimizing the impact to the land.

I also know, at least in Colorado, there are many organizations that are responsible for trail maintenance. There are national and state rangers and park staff who oversee certain areas. There are also incredible volunteers groups who construct and maintain trails. I know it is no small feat to manage the extensive trail system that exists in Colorado.

Earlier this year, when I was hiking to summit one of the Flatirons in Boulder, I noticed new barrier fencing being built out of very large logs. Part of it was complete, but in other areas the logs were stacked, waiting to be placed. At that moment I thought, how did these get up here? There are no roads. The trail is narrow and the grade is steep. Later while descended, I met three female rangers, each with two logs hoisted across their backs coming toward me on the trail. Whether you think it is relevant or not, I will tell you that these woman were petite. In my recollection the logs were taller than they were. They had to be so strong. And dedicated. I stopped and admired them. Praised them. And thanked them.

Trail stewards. I am incredibly grateful for you. You make these hikes possible and safe. All that you do to take care of the land and the creatures relying on it, and yet still finding the right way to allow humans to explore it too. You allow me to do something that I love. Something that nurtures me. Challenges me. Raises my heart rate. Makes my muscles strong and tired. Something that makes me take a deep breath and sigh out in awe. Something that makes me smile and occasionally cry is disbelief.

And you know, there are trail stewards everywhere. All around us. Those that make ALL of our journeys easier, more beautiful, and even possible. Some of these stewards we know. Friends. Family. Their work may be very visible. Their support quite obvious. Others we will never see or know. I too am a trail steward. Sometimes seen. Sometimes not. Taking action out of love and kindness. And at other times out of responsibility, commitment and dedication. We all serve. We all NEED to serve. We owe this to each other.

There are endless unseen forces. I’ve previously written about this. The term Okagesama, often used conversationally in Japan to express thanks, is the acknowledgement of unseen forces in the world which make life possible. The root of this word, kage, means “shadow.” Virtually every aspect of life is supported by unseen forces. Energy and people carrying us, even when we don’t know about it. Or carrying that heavy log. Doing what needs to be done to make our lives possible. These are the elements of our life that are in the shadow, so to see them, we have to look very deeply at our life. We have to see with more than just our eyes.

I still continue to pause, and recognize, all the forces that have supported me through my life. Especially those that are there in the shadow. Those that exist but can’t be seen due to the absence of light. I shine my light of awareness to those shadows. I know you are there.  I whisper words of gratitude to all the unknown or disguised trail stewards who are making this journey possible. Okagesama. Thank you.