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And it was hard.
I fell the first day...like one of those slow-motion falls where you see it coming but can’t do a dang thing, and then BOOM, landed square on my shoulder and hip with water flailing EVERYWHERE. Let’s just say the trail got a free slapstick show, and my pride took the hardest hit..., PLUS, my sleeping pad ended up with a hole, and my water filter broke. So after a miserable night on frozen ground and feeling all the pains in my hip and shoulder, I was ready to pack it in (or rather, pack out).
But then sunrise hit. God’s magnificent glory in a cloudless sky felt like He himself was speaking directly to me in a clear voice: You can do hard things, stay!
Also, thank God for a satellite phone, texting Arn at 3:30am letting him know life was not exactly grand and he worked his magic to get a message to a friend to meet me on the other side of the next trail with a brand-new pad and water filtration. Game changer and miracle because I didn’t know if he received the message or not. Shout out to Tracy and Marianne - both absolutely amazing humans!!
From there, the trip was brutal and beautiful in equal measure. We laughed, definitely sweat a lot, painted (yes, backcountry paint-and-sip is real), and found comfort in grassy meadows that thawed us out when temps dipped. We had “dead fish” water-collecting moments, bathroom breaks that redefined humility, layers going on and off like a trail fashion show, and run-ins with hikers from all over the United States, including wild ultra-runners doing the entire loop in one day, no packs (show offs, lol).
But the payoff for the whole trip aside from blossoming friendships?!?! The views. The kind you can’t capture enough in photos. The kind you have to stand on the crest to fully understand, breathe in and appreciate.
These memories, this bond, belong to us - the badass women who shouldered heavy packs, pushed through the lows, and celebrated the highs.
We did it.
Because we can do hard things.
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