The one tool that weighs nothing

How often do you listen to your gut? Do you trust it? I like to think about that feeling, that voice, my intuition, as a valued companion. And while it’s an emotional response that may not always be right, it never tells me to do anything out of line. So on the occasion when my gut waves the red flag, for whatever reason, I do tend to pause, look in all directions, and consider my options.

My friend Kathryn visited me a few months ago. She wanted to snowshoe and I was eager to show her some incredible Colorado powder. I took her to one of my favorite areas within 90 minutes of Denver. The conditions were perfect, multiple feet of snowpack and another foot of fresh powder on top. Sunshine. No wind. Lucky for us as I had planned her entire visit around this one experience.

I had all of my winter tools in my pack including a flashlight, handwarmers, Garmin and my downloaded Alltrails map. About 10 minutes into our snowshoe, I had an inkling of doubt about our route.  With so much snow, it is easy to follow the main set of tracks and think that you are headed where you had planned. But we were losing elevation which didn’t feel right to me. Although this made me pause momentarily, I figured the trail would soon turn left and then level off. I just kept going. Honestly, I was simply enjoying the experience. And most of all appreciating how happy Kathryn was trouncing through the powder.

It was another 10 minutes before I checked my map, and yes, we were off trail. Based on my knowledge of the area, I stood fast with the idea we would soon veer in the right direction. And so, we continued.  We were still in a beautiful place and never in danger (as far as I know!). My concern was merely about my desire to reach the lake. It was about my intention. The apex of our day. A beautiful, frozen, alpine lake surrounded by 13er peaks.

Finally, after another ten minutes, I gave in. The path we were taking would not get us to the lake. That’s when I finally realized that the most important tool, in this instance, might have been my gut that warned me thirty minutes earlier that something didn’t feel right. And so we back tracked, which was the path of least resistance, and we literally started over an hour after we began. Ultimately, with added time and distance to our adventure that day, we made it to the lake, and we had a great time getting there. Nothing lost, lesson learned, and so much gained.

I think, in life, when you have a trusty partner by your side, it’s easy to let go and rely on them to stear you in many ways. But when on your own, and especially when hiking solo, isn’t it true that you have no choice but to follow yourself. It is rare that a perfect landscape, with clear direction, is laid out before you. I suspect that my gut has become more keen in these past years. Even when I am asked, how did you find your way in the grieving process, the answer is, it was intuitive.

The more I know myself, the more I like who I am, the more I can trust my intuition. I feel pretty comfortable following myself on most days. Of course, I do have a lot of tools especially for my outdoor adventures. I have gradually collected them since moving to Colorado. They are important and I won’t leave home without them. They comfort me and they are honestly there for moments that I will likely never experience. I hope I won’t need them because it would mean I am lost, cold, threatened, or injured.

But I must admit, my gut is my most prized resource. It’s always with me. It is the one tool that weighs nothing. It doesn’t take up any space in my pack. And, it rarely takes me in the wrong direction.