I spent today hiking on ridges high above Lake Tahoe. Ridges make me feel like I was meant to hike this trail. The vast expanses, breathtaking drop offs, and cell service make me practically skip down the trail.
My hike is completely on the grid. My heart beats quicker when I have connection. My smiles grow wider when I get to check in while walking along the path. My snack breaks are brighter when I can text my loved ones and get responses back.
I talked with my mother late in the day. She forgave me for outing her less clothed hiking escapades and told me that my blogs make me seem bipolar. We laughed, acknowledging that often one moment takes me deep into despair while the next provides me with joy that rocks my world.
“I get to be here?” I asked myself, full of wonder.
The sun was bright, throwing long shadows across the steep terrain. It was 7.30pm, but I was still leaping inside, tickled pink about the ground, all covered with knee high plants that once were bright yellow flowers. Now they were fields of green and the trail, barely visible through their thickness, brushed happy leaves against my legs with every step.
I had two liters of cold water in my bag (after going thirsty earlier in the day due to poor planning) and huge explosions of color and warmth and delirious euphoria were all around, jumping into me from around the trail and pulsing off of me from on the trail.
Ecstasy like this is worth a million moments of suffering on a million days of freezing rain. (Please remind me of that thought in a few days when “this too shall pass.”)