(Note: My son, Hayden, read this and approved of my sharing)
Hayden, 14, is our second of three sons. He gets his name from Ferdinand Hayden, the geologist that led the Hayden Geological Survey of 1871, which explored and documented features in the region that would one year later become Yellowstone National Park, the world’s first national park. Since he was old enough to walk, Hayden has been drawn to rocks, and has always loved climbing and scrambling over rocks so perhaps it’s no wonder he gets his name from a geologist.
It was last year that I had this idea of leading my sons on a mother-son rite of passage expedition the summer before they start high school. A mother of three sons, I will get to have this meaningful experience three times. Last year, I took our first son, Wolf, on the adventure, and still consider the mother-son rite of passage idea one of my best ideas ever. (Our youngest son, Fin, is 9, so it will be 5 years before we get to do his.)
It was Hayden’s turn for the adventure this year, and after a lot of anticipation, we were excited to get the party started. First thing’s first, so we stopped at Lander Bake Shop at 6:30am and I bought Hayden a giant brownie plus a mocha, and we started our 2-hour drive to the trailhead.
On our way out of town, I played a Hidden Brain podcast called “Silver and Gold.” Hayden is super athletic and loves sports, so I figured this would be a good pick. I should mention that my son Hayden is funny, and really smart. He is way more intelligent than me, and in fact, one of the things we love about Hayden is the random bits of trivia he shares with us that are always fascinating tidbits that teach us things we did not previously know. The podcast started out with Shankar Vedantam explaining that David Matsumoto, a professor of psychology at San Francisco State University, and a former Olympic Judo coach, has analyzed the behavior of Olympic medal winners. Among other things, Matsumoto found that people who won bronze medals appeared happier than people who won silver medals. Before he could explain, Hayden quipped, “Duh. The bronze winner is just happy he made the podium. The silver medalist is not happy because he could have gotten a gold, but he did not, and that silver just drives that point home.”
LOL. I couldn’t argue with him, and in fact agreed, so we turned off the podcast, and instead agreed to listen to the start of an audiobook, Jim Gaffigan’s Dad is Fat. As a family we all laughed out loud while watching Gaffigan’s stand-up show, Beyond The Pale, on Netflix, and so we had a feeling this book would be good for some laughs on this day’s early start. And boy were we right. It wasn’t long, and Hayden and I were both laughing out loud. We especially enjoyed the first chapter. We loved it so much that I predicted “Dinga Dinga Dong…” might become a useful tagline, at times, during our adventure.
Once we turned off the highway and onto the long dirt road, we switched to music. We listened to Jet Fly, Ride, Boulevard of Broken Dreams, Bonfire Heart, Lose Yourself, Lost!, Let the Rhythm Just, Born in the U.S.A., I Took A Pill In Ibiza, All At Once, 7 Years, Called Out In The Dark, and many other songs, before arriving at the trailhead.
Can I have some Hayden with that backpack?
As per usual, ours would not be a lightweight adventure. As we parked at the trailhead and reached for our backpacks, we had to be intentional so as not to get injured. Good thing Hayden grew 5 inches in the last 12 months, I thought to myself. His pack was more than half his height! (By the way, I’m not necessarily proud to admit this, but these growing boys of ours are young and fit and strong, so they can carry more weight than they used to carry. Read: More weight than their mom carries. I train to be strong and fit and capable, but still, my 48-year-old joints are not of the same quality as those of my 14-year-old son. Even so, both of our backpacks were tall and unseemly – and seam-popping.
Did I mention Hayden is an Eater? Yes, the capital E is intentional. We packed an abundance of delicious foods – and also a football and a packraft and a kite. These things take up space. (This sort of reminds me of a time when Wolf was one-and-a-half years old and I was six months pregnant with Hayden. We rented llamas and camped at Stough Creek Basin. Because llamas carried our loads, we packed in an exersaucer, swing, and a huge condominium of a tent. Hayden’s and my backpacking adventure was sorta similar to this except for there were no llamas.)
We started hiking down the trail, and I instructed him to take small steps rather than large, bounding, lunging steps. I told him it would be better for us to try and stay under these monster packs rather than be stretched out from under them.
At first we didn’t say much. I listened as our trekking poles clicked on the rocky trail and I watched and followed in Hayden’s steps. This is common in all of the trips I lead and take. The first bit is all about getting into a groove and developing a sense of how it’s going to feel to move and travel in this way, loaded down with everything that will sustain us for 4 days. It’s also a time for re-orienting to a new – and wild – place.
“Only that day dawns to which we are awake.” These are the words of Henry David Thoreau, found near the end of his wonderful book, Walden. I reminded myself of this quote as Hayden and I started up the trail in the silence, and in our own thoughts. I had been on this very trail just days before leading my Epic Women expedition. I was home just long enough to get cleaned up, unpacked, and repacked, and my mind had been a little scattered in preparation for this adventure. I really wanted to be here with Hayden, 100%, and to savor our time together, and to not be too tired, or distracted by my unfinished, growing pile of work that was on my desk at home.
One of the reasons I love spending so much time in the wilderness is it’s the easiest place for me to be present, and to be in the moment. Otherwise, in all other places, I tend to be future-oriented, always preoccupied with future and upcoming events, and new ideas and possibilities. As we walked our first mile, I felt that familiar sense of belonging and presence – and a relief came over me that I would indeed have no problem being here with Hayden, and only here.
I love hiking with my sons. At least in my experience, if we’re wandering down some trail, I don’t have to work to prompt the boys into conversation. Walking somehow inspires them to talk, and to share openly about what’s on their mind.
Hayden started talking to me about basketball, and citing statistics about Michael Jordan. A few months back I had bought him Michael Jordan: The Life, by Roland Lazenby, and he recently finished reading it. He commented that the book is fantastic, and that he especially loved what was said on the book’s final page.
I listened as he talked excitedly about some of Jordan’s statistics, and several other NBA players. While I don’t want to compare, I must stay Hayden is very much like I was when I was his age. Basketball was my passion. I spent all of my free time developing my three point shot and other skills at elementary school playgrounds in the summer. I even received a Division I basketball scholarship to the University of Montana in 1986. And even though it didn’t work out as planned, and ended up being what I call one of my most spectacular failures, hearing Hayden talk about basketball, and watching him invest so much time shooting and doing drills at local playgrounds this summer is a little like flashing back to my own 14-year-old self.
After a while it started sprinkling so we took out our rain jackets and had a quick snack and some water. When we started hiking again, I asked him if he had any goals for our adventure. “I want to have fun with you and to do awesome.” I told him I had the same goals.
Hayden, hiking around Big Sandy Lake.
It wasn’t long, and we reached Big Sandy Lake, where we removed our packs and ate some lunch. I pointed out all of the mountains around us: Schiestler Peak, Temple Peak, East Temple and Steeple peaks, Haystack, and Big Sandy. Mitchell Peak, the mountain Hayden would climb on his own the next day, was just out of sight. As we ate our lunch, we listened as a marmot whistled/chirped from the pile of granite boulders above the lake. Hayden used to do a fantastic marmot call, and I tried to get him to do it now, but he refused. When did he grow up? I thought to myself. It seems like it was just yesterday that we were bribing the boys up the trail by planting “trail fairy” snacks for them. Now, we can hardly keep up with them. Hayden was loaded down, with a much-heavier pack than I, and still, it took effort to stay on his heels. I have created a monster, I thought to myself, as I tried to catch up with him after putting our packs back on.
Soon we started up the “grunt” part of the day – the beginning of Jackass Pass, so named because not even a mule (ie. jackass) can hike up it. As we moved slowly up the switchbacks, I remarked that we were moving like ants carrying great loads. “Actually, if we were ants, our loads would be much heavier because ants can carry 10 times their bodyweight on their backs.” We then discussed how grateful we were that our loads were not 1,150 pounds and 1,350 pounds respectively, and talking about this (almost) made our loads feel not as heavy. Hayden suggested how cool it would be if we had some ants around to carry our loads. We figured if we wanted a 70-pound load carried in for each of us, all it would require would be two 7-pound ants. We spent a couple of switchbacks distracting ourselves from exertion by imagining these giant ants, and what it would be like to hire ants to carry in our loads.
Soon, we arrived at what I consider to be a magical, best kept secret site for a camp.
We set up the tent and unloaded the foods and other kitchen stuff and moved them to the scenic kitchen area, where we were blessed by epic views. Across from us was Mitchell Peak, and in the distance was Haystack, Steeple, East Temple and Temple peaks. Hayden would climb Mitchell Peak early the next morning, and we’d day hike over to the Deep Lake area on Day 3. I love this camp because from it, you can see all of the country we’d be exploring.
Hayden then sprawled out on a granite slab and took a nap. While he was napping, I remembered him as an almost 2-year-old. One time we were camping in our camper at Flaming Gorge, and Hayden, then about 18 months old, was up all night screaming in pain from an ear infection. “Sing Amazing Grace!” he yelled at me as I tried to console him on my chest. I remember it like it was yesterday. It was so cute how demanding and specific his request was. As he lay there napping, I brainstormed words to describe my Hayden with using the letters of his name. H is for honorable (Hayden has always been principled, and inspired by men and women of honor), Amazing (he probably prefers the word awesome, but given the song, Amazing Grace, has such a place in his early life and our relationship, I am going with Amazing), Y for youthful (he’s great at getting down and playing with younger kids, including his 9-year-old brother, Fin, and Whacky Fish Campers last summer), D is for Determined (once Hayden sets his mind to something, he pursues it with a dogged determination), Eater (no explanation, but suffice it to say that he’s hungry pretty much ALL of the time), and finally, N is for Night owl (poor Hayden, he’s the only night owl in our family of early risers.)
Hayden, eating Epic Buttery, Cheesy Noodles.
After writing all of this down in my journal, I opened my copy of Kahlil Gibran’s prophet, and read my favorite essay in the entire book, “On Children.” Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself. They come through you but not from you, And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you. You may give them your love but not your thoughts. For they have their own thoughts… I tell myself that I must remember all this, especially the last part.
One of the thing that inspires me about Hayden is how he marches to the beat of his own drum. Even at his relatively young age, he’s his own man. He may seek advice, and be inspired and influenced, but ultimately, he chooses what to believe, and how to be. I know it’s early on, he’s only 14, but it is something I’ve noticed about Hayden for some time now. I was probably 40 years old before I felt like I marched to the beat of my own drum.
This rite of passage trip is as much a rite of passage for mom as it is for son. I have a very clear idea about the kind of mother I want to be. Still, being that person is difficult. I struggle constantly with it. As my Hayden grows into a man, I want to do my best to be the mother I want to be. That mother is not a hovering mother, but rather a supportive mother who guides and loves and cares for her son, but also stays out of his way so that he can blossom and emerge and soar. By the time this expedition ends, my hope is that we make simple promises to one another that will help facilitate my being the way I want to be in order for him to be his best, and that we may love each other even more as a result.
Hayden wakes up as I make a bunch of racket getting pans, food and the stove out. I mention that nap will do him good since his mountain climb will come early tomorrow. We plan to wake at 4am, and for him to start up at around 5am. I show him Mitchell Peak, and most of what his route will be. I ask him if he’s nervous. “Not really,” he says. “I’m excited, though.” This is pure Hayden. If he gets nervous, he doesn’t show it. I, on the other hand, am feeling nervous. This is my idea – for him to climb Mitchell Peak by himself – and yet, as his mother, I wonder if I’m being reckless, and if he’ll get his leg pinned between two boulders tomorrow, or get too close to the edge when standing on the summit. I chase these thoughts away with conversation about food. Hayden decides we should save the most epic meal – cheesy quesadillas – for after the mountain climb, and so we settle on cheesy, buttery noodles for tonight. He eats almost three bowls.
Hayden, throwing the football.
Next, we play catch with the football he packed in. I used to beg him to throw the ball 50 times with me. Now, he begs me. I’m not a hard sell. I love playing catch (fetch) with Hayden. We both try to catch the football with just one hand. He’s better than me at it. Of course. But for a minute, I feel young, like a 14-year-old girl, and I’m having a lot of fun.
Then, we play some gin rummy with cards we bought in Switzerland. We wonder aloud, and laugh, at why we would have purchased the German version. Each card has a unique illustration and paragraph of information that we imagine is pretty interesting if only one of us knew German. We play three games; he wins two, and I win one. We’ll keep track and continue the contest over the next few days.
Playing gin rummy.
We decide to go to bed early since the alarm will sound in a matter of hours. We get into my 2-person tent, and he remarks, “this is very cocoon-like.” We say good night, but I can tell he’s not sleeping. He’s tossing and turning and his breathing isn’t restful. I ask him if he’s okay and he says he feels claustrophobic. I suggest we sleep outside under the stars so he doesn’t feel so closed in. He says he’ll be okay, and after a while more of tossing and turning, I can sense he’s fast asleep. For my part, I didn’t sleep. This isn’t unusual – I’m not a great wilderness sleeper. Mostly, I didn’t sleep due to nerves regarding Hayden’s mountain climb. I remind myself that last year I was the same way, and Wolf did just fine. This helps me a little.
The alarm goes off, and we’re up. I make coffee for me and hot chocolate for him. We have some chunky peanut butter and honey bagels, and we’re off with headlamps. We stop at the outlet of North Lake to refill our water bottles and treat the water. I lead him along the trail, and over the boulders along North Lake’s north shore before arriving to the start of the Mitchell Peak ascent. I start up with him for a bit to make sure he’s on the right course, and then agree where we’ll meet up to descend part of the mountain together, and we part ways. There is alpenglow on Warbonnet and I snap a photo of him with it in the background before hugging him and wishing him a great climb.
Hayden, ready to climb his mountain.
Hayden, about to start up Mitchell Peak, right before we part ways.
Alpenglow on Warbonnet.
I climb in a different direction toward Dog Tooth, and find a rock on which to sit. And wait. And worry. While sitting here, butterflies were everywhere. This reminded me of when Hayden was a toddler and I’d carry him in a backpack. I loved those times. I have such fond memories. He’d be mostly in my right ear, over my right shoulder and he’d exclaim, “Buttflies! Buttflies!” whenever he spied a butterfly, which was often. I don’t remember Wolf or Fin ever getting excited over butterflies. Now, I see butterflies everywhere, especially on the yellow flowers that nature arranges like bouquets up high in this alpine tundra. It’s hard to not feel God’s presence and my blessings, as I recall Hayden’s love of butterflies and now see them all around me. I get a little teared up and emotional. I wait and every now and again, spy through my binoculars. Hayden is wearing a red shirt, which is helpful. I spot him making his way toward the peak. I figure it will be another one-and-a-half or two hours so before he sits on the summit. One-and-a-half or two hours of me worrying, and feeling what I can only describe as “tender.”
I pull out my journal and look for the wise words of Seneca that I printed out before leaving: It is not that we have a short time to live, but that we waste a lot of it. Life is long enough, and a sufficiently generous amount has been given to us for the highest achievements if it were all well invested. But when it is wasted in heedless luxury and spent on no good activity, we are forced at last by death’s final constraint to realize that it has passed away before we knew it was passing. So it is: we are not given a short life but we make it short, and we are not ill-supplied but wasteful of it… Life is long if you know how to use it.
As a person, I can be very hard on myself. As a mother, I’m even harder on myself. It’s the most important responsibility I have, and I constantly doubt my abilities. I read Seneca’s words three times, as if to rehearse their truth. This right here, being with my Hayden – just he and I for 4 days – is using my time. For a minute, I allow myself to be proud of myself. I would not want to be anywhere with anyone else right now. I snap some photos of the butterfly that is on the yellow flower in front of me.
A butterfly on a flower as I wait for Hayden to summit Mitchell Peak.
Last year for about three months, Hayden, a straight A student, went through a period where he was not turning in assignments. He was doing the work but forgetting to turn it in. It was challenging, and I was freaking out about it. It was so out of character and I didn’t handle it well. I was not the mother I want to be. The principles I was arguing for wasn’t a problem, rather the way I was doing it. I remember being at wit’s end and yelling at Hayden at the top of my lungs before storming upstairs to sink and cry. After a while I came down, with puffy eyes, and sat down with Jerry and the boys for dinner. I looked at Hayden, in front of Jerry and Wolf and Fin, and I said, “I’m sorry. I do not want to be this way with you. While you have to turn things around and start turning your work in, this isn’t how I want to be. I’m sorry. And I hope you can forgive me.” Surprised to see his strong mother so broken down, he thanked me. I am so fallible…
I remember that Hayden’s climbing a mountain, and get my binoculars out. It’s not long and I spy him gaining the ridge to the summit. I have climbed Mitchell Peak 10 times, and every time I gain the ridge, I’m blown away by what I see. It’s as if seeing it for the first time – the Cirque of the Towers, and many granite peaks along the Continental Divide for as far as eye can see – take your breath away. I wonder if Hayden is having this same experience… I hear him on the Talkabout: “I’m over the ridge. It’s awesome,” he says. I tell him great job, and congratulate him. “That means a lot, Mom,” he says. This chokes me up, and I’m sorta a blubbering mess right now. Hayden isn’t very emotional, so this, to use the words of Hayden, “hits me where I live.”
I’m relieved that he’s almost to the top, where he’ll likely sit and enjoy the view and solitary experience for a while, which means I feel like I have at least a little time to relax and stop worrying.
I think of Hayden some more. Anyone who knows me knows how much I love ice cream. It’s right up there with bacon. For years, we’ve had a tradition of eating ice cream after school on Fridays. Since the two older boys are now much busier with sports, etc. after school, we still eat ice cream together at least once a week, just not at the same scheduled time and place. I think of this now because it was during my pregnancy with Hayden that I fell in love with ice cream. I craved it all of the time.
As I’m making this realization, I remember the time I just had to have some ice cream, and so I put Wolf in the carseat, and loaded my pregnant-with-Hayden self into my Subaru Outback and headed to Dairyland to get a large hot fudge and banana malt. During the 10 minutes I was out satisfying this ice cream craving, we had a hail storm. $3,000 worth of damage to my car because I had to have ice cream. Oops! I am laughing out loud right now as I realize all of this, and that my love of ice cream can be blamed on Hayden.
I think now of Hayden’s birth. Wolf was an early, emergency C-section. I wanted to try for a VBAC with Hayden, if I could. I was in labor, feeling the intense pains of labor, when all of a sudden, Hayden’s heart rate was erratic and in distress. The doctor announced we needed to have an emergency C-section. The nurse, Karen – who I will never forget – pushed me as Jerry held my hand and ran alongside me down the hallways of the hospital to get to the surgical unit. Karen asked if we could pray together. We all prayed, and tried not to imagine the worst… it was too unbearable to do so. We got into the surgical room and there was panic in the air. Nurses and the doctor rushed around. Jerry and I cried, and prayed, in desperation. Suddenly, Hayden’s heart rate returned to normal. He was my only baby that was of average size, and didn’t require extended hospitalization or care. He was beautiful, what with his bright blue eyes and his head of thick, white hair. I will never forget meeting him for the first time.
I’m crying again when I hear his voice on the radio. “I’m at the top,” he announces. He says it’s awesome and that he’ll enjoy the view and eat something and drink some water. He says it’s not windy there, and he’s doing great.
I hear a hummingbird zoom by me. This the second I’ve noticed this morning. I think of my mom. My wonderful mom. She LOVES hummingbirds so I always think of her when I hear or see one. This one lingers a little for me, just long enough for it to feel like a specific gift sent to me.
I remember I have a Snickers bar. I packed one for Hayden for his summiting, and one for me. Sometime I’ll try just eating a Snickers but today isn’t that day, so I snarf it, and it hits the spot.
I think because Hayden’s a second child, and I’m a second child, I relate to him in a special way. I worry that because he’s second in the order, that he might not get as much attention as the first or the last of our sons. I remember when I was a young girl and sitting on the sidewalk step with my Dad watching as my older sister, and all of her friends, raced bikes up and down the street. I asked my Dad if I could get a bike, and he said something to the effect of, when you’re your sister’s age. Nothing against my Dad — he has turned out to be one of my biggest champions! – but I remember thinking how much sense that response did not make. I think Hayden is similar in that he doesn’t have a lot of tolerance for arbitrary things.
Hayden’s selfie on the summit of Mitchell Peak.
Some more time passes, and I’m enjoying myself, and the view, and the warmth of the sun that is now over the mountain on my face. I think I’m going to be okay, I say to myself. Hayden’s voice comes on the radio announcing he’s going to start down. I tell him to be careful and remind him to look around and get everything he had with him up there. “And remember, the summit’s only the halfway point,” I say. “Yeah, I know, Mom,” he says. I love it when he says this. It’s reassuring, and I just like the way it sounds when he says it, and I make a mental note that I will tell him as much later.
Hayden, headed down and in my direction.
I head toward a spot high on the mountain that connects Big Sandy Mountain with Mitchell, where we agreed to meet so we could descend together. I zoom my camera all the way in and snap a photo of Hayden, in his red shirt, descending Mitchell, with the Cirque of the Towers’ massive mountains looming behind him. He arrives, and we embrace. He tells me how awesome it was up there, and then we start down. I tell him about the butterflies I saw, and of my memories of him in a backpack and exclaiming over my shoulder and into my ear every time he’d see a butterfly (buttfly!)
I tell him that I saw some hummingbirds while he was on the mountain top. “Did you know that an NBA point guard, when dribbling the ball with both hands as low to the ground as possible, can dribble faster than the wingbeat of a hummingbird?” I tell him, no, I did not know that. This is Hayden. He’s always pulling out random bits of interesting information for us. I love it about him, and I tell him I hope he never quits doing that, and I encourage him to keep reading and being interested in a variety of things. I tell him they are great conversation pieces, and that they are wonderful contributions to the people he shares them with.
Hayden.
We find a huge, flat slab of granite and decide to chill out and “sun like marmots on the rock” for a while. It is nothing short of blissful. I love hanging out with Hayden. He’s fun, and he’s funny.
Sunning like marmots.
We return to camp and decide that a very early dinner of Epic quesadillas is in order. (But for accuracy’s sake, insert “Dang Quesadillas!” in the voice of Napoleon Dynamite’s Grandma in the movie, Napoleon Dynamite) While I make dinner, I tell him again how proud I am of his climbing Mitchell Peak today. I share this René Daumal quote with him: “You cannot stay on the summit forever; you have to come down again. So why bother in the first place? Just this: What is above knows what is below, but what is below does not know what is above. One climbs, one sees. One descends, one sees no longer, but one has seen. There is an art of conducting oneself in the lower regions by the memory of what one saw higher up. When one can no longer see, one can at least still know.” He likes it.
Then, I ask if he remembered to choose a poem that resonates with him to bring on the adventure. He did. It’s called The Great Competitor, by Grantland Rice, and he read it to me, captured in the video clip below, with Mitchell Peak in the background. He said he likes it because it’s about how you play the game – “a ballgame, and also how you live your life.”
Hayden eats three Epic quesadillas before acknowledging there is no more available space for food in his tummy. He heads to the tent and takes a two hour nap. For a bit, I read Meditations, by Marcus Aurelius, a favorite of mine that I’m reading for the third time. I underline the following text: The happiness of your life depends upon the quality of your thoughts. Then I fetch and treat some water, make some strong coffee, and journal a bit. Life is good. So good.
Epic s’mores.
Hayden wakes up (finally), and we make epic s’mores. We’re lazy and concerned about fire danger so we cheat by using the camp stove. We eat s’mores, listen to some music and play some gin rummy. The score is now 8 games to 3, Hayden in favor. I ask Hayden, “What are five ways you want to be if you’re going to be your best self?”
He says he’ll think about it, and for a while he does. He offers, “KACAB: Knowledgeable, Adventurous, Comedic, Athletic and Brave.” I tell him those are perfect, and thank him for doing this exercise for me. I add, “You know to be brave, you have to do things that are daring and courageous.” He responds, “Yeah, I know, Mom.” “You need to take epic chances every now and then. Not be reckless, but rather courageous,” I add. “Yeah, I know, Mom,” he says. Again. And this reminds me that I was going to tell him how much I like the sound of it when he says “Yeah, I know, Mom.” He seems glad that I like it when he says that.
We head to the tent early and I tell him it will be a “leisure start”the next day, that there will be no alarm that goes off. A night owl, and epic sleeper-in’er if given the chance, Hayden cheers at this news. We snuggle into our tent, and listen to some of the Gaffigan audiobook before quickly falling to sleep. We both sleep better than we did the first night.
The next day after coffee, cocoa and oatmeal, we load the “toys” (football, packraft, fishing rod, and kite), into our packs and add some food and water, and head to Big Sandy Lake, then Clear Lake and eventually, Deep Lake.
Crossing a log.
Hayden, following the cairns and leading us toward Clear Lake.
We found this heart rock.
At Deep Lake, Hayden inflates the raft and goes for a float on Deep Lake. Deep Lake is my favorite place in the Wind Rivers right now. It’s nestled under the dramatic granite peaks of Haystack, Steeple and East Temple Peak.
Deep Lake.
Deep Lake is like glass and these peaks are perfectly reflected in its waters as Hayden takes turns rowing and going places, and lounging. I can’t wait for my turn, and eventually it comes. There’s a group of women fishing on the shore of the lake under Haystack. Their entire conversation can be heard as a result of the echoing. Based on their conversation, they are a group of women I’d probably love to hang out with. This reminds me of my recent Epic Women expedition, and the fond memories I have of that time. I think of Nicole, Cindy, Laura, Monica, Cristy and Cheri, and smile. Again – and I’ve been doing this again and again and again all year long this year it seems – I realize the many blessings in my life. I watch as Hayden skips rocks from the slab on the shore where all of our toys are spread out.
Hayden, inflating our pack raft.
I paddle in, and Hayden and I play catch with the football for some time, before we eat lunch. And here is my opportunity to have the “deep talk” at Deep Lake with Hayden – to talk about one of the things I’ve come for, a promise that we each make to each other. I explain to Hayden that this mother-son rite of passage expedition is not only an opportunity to share an inspiring and challenging adventure together, but to mark the mother-son rite of passage with a shared promise. I told him the promises we make can be simple – that for best results they should be simple – and I offer what I’m willing to promise him. “I promise I’ll trust you more, and give you more freedom if… and then you add what you’re willing to promise in return.” He thinks about this for some time, but not before quipping, “Dinga, Dinga Dong…” I love this kid.
Hayden, floating on Deep Lake.
He mentions principles. I ask him, “What are your principles?” He thinks about this and then responds, “Family, Love, God, Faithfulness to others, Honesty, Humility, and Excellence.” We relate these principles to cairns – things that mark our trail so that we don’t get lost or wander aimlessly. We decide on this: Hayden promises to not stray from his principles if I promise to give him more freedom. It’s a wonderful moment, he and I, just sitting there after making this promise to one another. I add, “We’ll make mistakes. I won’t always be as trusting as I should be. I’m not perfect. And you’re not perfect. You’ll make mistakes and you’ll stray. But we’re promising to do our best with this promise to each other.” After that, we share a little more about things that are more personal.
Hayden, leading us to Paradise.
Trying to fly my kite, but the Wind Rivers were not windy.
At about 1:30pm, we pack up and wander in our Crocs down about a quarter-mile to the big slabs of granite that feature water running from Deep Lake up above to Clear Lake down below. We can see Mitchell Peak and the Cirque of the Towers and Clear Lake in one direction, and Deep Lake, and Haystack, Steeple, East Temple and Temple peaks in another. So much rock everywhere. This place astounds me, and I’m thrilled that Hayden is loving it.
We stop at a fresh pool of water between springs and watch as a large school of small trout swim, and rise to snatch insects. Hayden wades in the pool before sitting and whittling with the knife Jerry got for him for this trip. I try to fly the kite, but there’s not adequate wind. These are the Wind Rivers, I say to Hayden. Where is the wind? He’s not hiding that he’s a little thrilled there’s no wind for me to fly a kite. He is embarrassed at the prospects of his mom flying a kite out here. After not having any luck, I decide to lay down on my stomach and get some sun on the backs of my legs and arms, since sunning like a marmot the day before resulted in quite a lot of color on my face and the fronts of my arms and legs.
Hayden, tossing a football, while wading in the spring.
An hour of this perfect lazing passes before we pack up and start our 3-mile hike back to camp.
We return to camp with full bottles of water so we don’t have to do unnecessary work. Just cook Epic chicken fried rice, play some gin rummy, start a fire and roast marshmallows so we can have Epic bacon s’mores before closing in for our last night in the wilderness. During gin rummy, I ask Hayden if he can pick 4 things he wants in his life in order for it to be Epic. The words must start with E, P, I, and C. He needs time to ponder this and promises me he will. I share mine: Experience, Play, Inspiration and Curiosity.
Epic Bacon s’mores.
After stuffing ourselves with our last dinner, we clean up the kitchen and move to the “lawn” portion of the best kept secret Epic campsite. There’s an established fire ring at the end of the lawn, sheltered nicely up against a gigantic boulder. Hayden starts a small fire and we make bacon s’mores. Epic yum, we both agree.
Hayden approves.
Then, for a couple hours we have a great conversation. We take turns asking each other questions. Some of the questions we asked, and each responded to include: Describe a perfect day. What is the hardest thing you’ve ever had to go through – one thing that was by choice, and another that was out of necessity. If you’re stranded on an island and you can have one single food item for the rest of your life there, what would it be? If you could have only one outfit, what would be the one outfit you would choose to wear? Who inspires you? Who do you trust the most? Who are your closest friends, and why? What do you get from your Mom, and what do you get from your Dad? What do you think people say behind your back? What do you wish they’d say? It was a fantastic conversation where we both shared a lot, while making a lot of discoveries about each other.
Enjoying a fire on our last night in the wilderness.
We ended the night finishing our gin rummy tournament. We agreed to stop when we got to 10 wins. After I won two in a row, Hayden won two games to be victorious, 10 games to 7. He was a gracious winner. He was The Great Competitor.
During our last night in the tent, we again returned to listening to Jim Gaffigan’s Dad is Fat audiobook. It is so funny, and we laughed out loud a lot before Hayden dozed off and I turned it off so I could listen to him sleep and hopefully find sleep myself. I didn’t sleep well. I was buzzing from the new memories Hayden and I had made together, and enjoying some star gazing by looking out of our tent’s door.
I forgot to mention in this blog post that Hayden is a sleep talker. At home, almost nightly he sits straight up and exclaims something that is loud enough for at least some of us to hear. He seldom remembers doing this. Right when I was about to fall asleep, he jutted up in the tent, looked at me and exclaimed, “Congratulations on your child!” And then collapsed back down. It was hilarious – and so Hayden. Of course when I told him about this as we were hiking out the next day, he couldn’t remember it.
Heading home.
We laughed, though, and wondered if his comment was the result of listening to Gaffigan’s audio book, which is all about having children, or if Hayden was congratulating me on having him as a child. Either way, it was a fitting end to our expedition, and for what it’s worth, I do feel as if I should be congratulated for this son of mine.
Big Sandy Lake reflections.
As we got to the car, Hayden announced he figured out his E, P, I and C: “Excitement, Principles, Intuition and Courage.”
At The Finish of our mother-son Rite of Passage expedition. It was epic, and I’ll never forget it.
I just returned from one of my most memorable and meaningful experiences in my backyard, Wind River Country. As I write this, I am basking in the memories of an overnight backpacking trip with my 18-year-old niece and Goddaughter from the Dallas, TX region. (Daylia is the oldest child of my younger sister, Amber.)
The adventure started early on July 14 when I fetched my Daylia from my parents’ house at 5:30am. Our destination: Island Lake in Upper Silas Canyon.
This would be a trip of so many firsts for Daylia. It would be her first time backpacking. It would be her first time to sleep in a tent. It would be her first time to start a campfire. It would be her first time to climb a mountain. And as for me, it would be my first time to take my Goddaughter on an epic adventure. This was a big deal that we had talked about a lot in the past, and finally the dream was coming true.
Daylia, who is very fit, had mentioned a few days before the trip that she expected to carry her share of our load, and for her backpack to feel legit. It did. It weighed about 32 pounds.
As someone who hikes about 1,000 miles a year in Wind River Country, and who leads a number and variety of epic adventures, I did not take lightly this opportunity to provide my Goddaughter with her first wilderness experience. I hoped to provide an unforgettable experience for my Goddaughter, and maybe – just maybe – this experience would convert this city girl into someone who might want to do more of this in the future. (Maybe the title of this blog post could be The Making of a Backpacker.)
After listening to part of a Ted Radio Hour podcast episode called, Champions, featuring the story of Amy Purdy, and her triumphant comeback from the brink of death to making history as a Paralympic snowboarder, we jammed out to Let the Rhythm Just, by The Polish Ambassador, and arrived at the trailhead pumped and ready to go.
It was a beautiful morning with the sun just up. The trees reflected perfectly in Fiddlers Lake as we started down the trail and into our adventure.
Fiddlers Lake reflections.
Daylia is extra special to me because she is my Goddaughter. I remember flying to Texas when she was about 6-8 months old, and snuggling and playing with her almost constantly. From the beginning, she had a charming personality and an inquisitive way about her. I have this vivid memory of her being contained in the middle of the queen sized bed in the guest room I was staying in, and her being propped up against a big pillow and using her hands as she talked (cooed) to me in an adorable language I couldn’t understand. The one thing that I did understand during that moment was that time with her inspired me to really want to be a mother.
Now look at her. 18 and all grown up. She starts college at the end of August, and will begin her studies and work to become a Physician’s Assistant.
As we headed down the trail, at first we were quiet. I didn’t start in with the conversation right away. I like to provide space and a bit of solitude for whomever I’m leading as they settle into the cadence of moving through the forest and over the rocky trails with everything they need to sustain them on their backs and under their own power. The birds chirped and sang, and the day’s new sun lit our way. Just another blissful morning in Wind River Country, I thought to myself.
At the signed junction with the Christina Lake Trail, we removed our packs, and drank some water before continuing toward Upper Silas Lake. As we hiked through the woods, and up and down hills, I asked Daylia how the making of a backpacker was going. “I can feel it in my butt,” she said. “But at least after this, I will have Buns of Steel.” We both laughed, and I agreed. Then, Daylia asked me how I first got into hiking. I waited until I wasn’t on an uphill, and then shared the story about losing my Division I basketball scholarship in Year 3 of college, explaining how I found myself “without a map” after that happened. I started spending time alone, healing, reading books – and very importantly, hiking. I appreciated her asking the question because it allowed me to share a point that I have come to feel so strongly about, and around which so much of my leadership work, coaching and guiding is centered.
I explained how losing my scholarship turned out to be one of my most important and spectacular failures. I shared that I don’t think life would be what it is – as wonderful as it is – and certainly we wouldn’t be here sharing this adventure right now, if not for that “failure.” As we hiked, I asked her about some of her failures. She shared about a failure involving running the 800 meters in track a few years back, and about another involving a violin solo that didn’t go as planned. I encouraged her to look at the positives that came out of those, and to consider those events not as failures, but as events that will somehow inform her life going forward. I added, however, that it took me almost 20 years to look back at my aforementioned “failure,” and to realize that it wasn’t a failure after all but rather one of my greatest gifts.
Daylia, at Upper Silas Lake.
At Upper Silas Lake, we took our packs off and enjoyed a 15-minute snack break on the shore. Daylia ate a healthy, yummy-looking BLT, and I ate my first Snickers bar of the trip. It was a beautiful morning. Upper Silas Lake has a big granite mountain at its upper end, and its water was as smooth and as clear as glass. Every now and then a fish jumped through its surface, and I did as I always do when this happens, briefly regretted that I didn’t pack my fly rod.
Refueled, we continued up the trail to Island Lake, which we reached in good time. We found a wonderful campsite, the same one Jerry and I and our sons have camped at before. Perfect, I thought to myself. I taught her how to set up our tent and we worked together to get our accommodations in place. I also shared with Daylia that we’d Leave No Trace, and explained what that important ethic means.
After establishing our camp, we ate some lunch, drank more water, and then set out, with our lighter packs, for Thumb Lake. As far as Daylia knew, we were going to establish camp at Island Lake, and then take a quick day hike to Thumb Lake, and that would be our itinerary for the first of our two days in the wilderness.That was correct, except I also had in store some additional options…
The night before our adventure, I became curious if there’d be a mountain we could climb on our route. (I love to have people climb mountains because climbing mountains is such a great metaphor for personal development, and for being in pursuit of something in life or work.) Jerry looked at a topo map, and suggested we might be able to get up Roaring Fork Mountain from the area above Thumb Lake. We studied the maps and could see there were possibilities.
Thumb Lake.
When Daylia and I reached Thumb Lake, we removed our packs and hunkered down to enjoy the views, and drink some more water and eat some dried mangoes. Daylia enjoyed her Snickers bar here, too. Wildflowers of every color were everywhere, and we both remarked at the beauty of Thumb Lake and the surrounding granite mountains with snowfields.
“I have a couple of things I’d like to propose if you’re interested,” I offered. Daylia, being the trooper that she is, asked me what those things were. Pointing up beyond Thumb Lake, I said we could either “go explore that lake that you can tell exists up there in that cirque, and-or we could try getting up that mountain. I pointed to the notch (what some people call Devil’s Bite, or the Cookie Bite) on Roaring Fork Mountain’s high ridge. Daylia has seen this bite from Roaring Fork Lake, and from our cabin, and she was impressed that it was just right there, so close to where we were. And yet not very close. In fact, from where we sat, I couldn’t see a route to the notch that I would be comfortable leading my Goddaughter on, especially on her very first wilderness trip. Briefly, as I sized up our options, I was a little disappointed, but then I discovered some possible routes we could take from a second cirque up higher that, if we were lucky, might allow us to gain the ridgeline, and ultimately, the top of Roaring Fork Mountain.
Heading up.
This is the lake at the head of the canyon. It was a sight to see, and the flowers were pretty awesome, too…
“Let’s first go see the upper lakes,” I suggested, and we returned to our feet and headed up. We skirted the first upper lake (which is situated in the cirque below the notch of Roaring Fork) and then crossed a huge boulder field to a spring where we refilled our water bottles, before continuing up over some snow and more boulders to the most beautiful cirque and lake we’d see up close on this adventure. There was still a huge slab of ice. The shades of green and blue around the ice were breathtakingly beautiful. Some really thin sheets of ice were sloughing off at the head of the steep cirque, which included tall and massive granite mountains that were dressed with snowfields. (Earlier in the day, I had shared with Daylia how I like to look for heart rocks and other hearts. I noticed that one of the snowfields directly above the lake’s surface resembled a heart. “I spy a heart,” I said. “Do you see it?” And she did.)
I shared some skills about mountain climbing and hiking up steep, often loose, terrain with Daylia, and we started venturing up a route I predicted would get us to the top of the mountain top’s ridge.
Daylia, climbing her first mountain.
Daylia was a champion! We moved together, deliberately, as I was more motherly than I probably needed to be. But she was “precious cargo!” I suddenly felt the enormous responsibility of keeping this beautiful young woman who is so special to me, and to so many, safe and in good health and spirits. We developed a system where we’d take about 20 steep uphill lunges, and then lean into the mountain, rocks and tundra to take mini breaks. During these mini breaks, I encouraged Daylia to look up, catch our breath, get our bearings and to take in the views below.
Altitude often causes people to get light-headed, and the experience of climbing a mountain can be dizzying and disorienting. Climbing a steep mountain, on a route that featured huge dropoffs into a still-ice-covered mountain lake in a steep cirque with no shore, or chance of rescue, was high stakes. I had explained to Daylia at the start of our adventure about the high stakes out here. I said what I often say to people I’m leading up the trail. “I don’t mean to be dramatic, and yet I do. The stakes are high out here. If you turn an ankle or hurt yourself out here, we’re hours, if not days, from help. As a result, it’s critical that we are more deliberate about where we place our feet, and what we choose to do or not do.” This right here is a case in point, I thought to myself as we climbed up this steep mountain, little section by little section, and with such focused attention and great care.
I think we’re going to make it!
“Look how far we’ve come already,” remarked Daylia, as we were about halfway up the mountain. I acknowledged that fact. In fact, in my humble opinion, that is one of the greatest values of climbing a mountain – taking time to look back and down and acknowledging your progress so far. It can be inspiring, and provide inspiration for continuing.
Soon, we saw the end of our climb. “It’s right there,” said Daylia. “We have to make it now.” And make it we did. As we gained the ridge, we were speechless. Before us was a panoramic view filled with a range of tall granite mountains, including Wind River Peak, and Lizard Head in the distance. Below us were the main lakes of the Stough Creek Basin. While accessing the mountaintop this way was a first not only for Daylia, but also for me, the top of the mountain was as I remembered it from the time Jerry and I had accessed it from Roaring Fork saddle a few years ago – rolling, littered with a googolplex of rocks.
Once on top of the mountain, we were rewarded with panoramic views.
Selfie of us, invigorated from our mountain climb.
We quickly bundled up with our warmest layers and puffy coats, hats and mittens. We hugged and gave each other high 5’s and each snapped photos from different vantages, as well as some selfies of the two of us, “victorious” on top of Daylia’s first mountain, and on top of our first mountain climbed together. I watched as Daylia soon hunkered down behind a boulder that was the size of an SUV’s bucket seat to get out of the chill of the high winds.
We stayed about 20 minutes before deciding we wanted to start down if for no other reason to get out of the cold and the wind. We took about 20 steps below the summit on our descent, and it was suddenly hot and still again. We de-layered and returned to our summer attire, and talked excitedly about what we had just accomplished and seen. We were both giddy about – and proud of – our accomplishment. “I don’t want to steal our thunder, but, as a world-class climber (Phil Powers, Wyoming’s only man to climb K2 without oxygen) once told me, the summit is only the halfway point. Most injuries happen while descending, so even though we’re excited and we summited, we need to pay even more attention going down.” Daylia, now a backpacker, and ‘Epic certified,’ understood and agreed.
Descending, and heading back to camp.
Before we knew it, we were back at the spring from which we had refilled our water bottles at hours before, and walking across van-sized boulders toward Thumb Lake. It was a glorious day. Until now the sky had been cloudless and certain, and as blue as my Goddaughter’s eyes. Now, there were some clouds forming in the sky, but they were of the harmless variety – not tall, pure white, spread out, and shaped like misshaped cotton balls. We both agreed that the clouds made the view more interesting.
We were back at camp by 4pm. Daylia wanted to learn how to start a fire, so with a little instruction from me, she did, and it was a good one! Especially because its smoke helped clear our camp of some of the hordes of mosquitos. I made us coffee. By the way, how is it that my Goddaughter is old enough to want to drink coffee with me? Once again, I’m reminded of how fast the time flies, and how, in a seeming blink-of-an-eye a child is a young adult in the prime of her life. This reminds me that I have brought in a couple of gifts for Daylia. I give her a book that is a new favorite of mine, called The Gutsy Girl: Escapades for Your Life of Epic Adventure, by Caroline Paul, and also an Epic journal, with a few suggested prompts to help her reflect on her Epic life.
Our home for the night.
Next, I teach Daylia how to set up and start the camp stove, and she helps me make what we decide to call “Epic Island Lake Quesadillas,” which were tortillas fried in lots of butter, and filled with pepper jack cheese, spicy green chiles and Ro*tel tomatoes. Daylia loves them and makes me feel like a world-class chef. I don’t mean to brag, but they were quite delicious, in part because they were so hard-earned.
Daylia, enjoying an Epic quesadilla.
We enjoyed a lot of meaningful conversation, made s’mores that were also – you guessed it – Epic. We each roasted double marshmallows and added them to dark chocolate with almonds and graham crackers. We snarfed two Epic s’mores each, and then spied the Big Dipper and the North Star, before heading into the tent. My Fitbit indicated we had logged 14 miles and almost 400 flights of stairs. I told Daylia how epic she is, and told her the day was epic by anyone’s standards, but especially mine. It would be a day I would never forget.
Epic s’mores.
Reflections of alpenglow in Island Lake.
When we got nestled into the compact, 2-person tent, Daylia remarked, “This is a little cozy compared to what I’m used to.” I had her right where I wanted her…very near to me. When I shared this tent with my oldest son, Wolf, last year on our mother-son rite of passage trip, he had said the same thing, as I made him snuggle into my right arm the way he had so many times over the years beginning when he was an infant. I didn’t make Daylia cuddle with me, but it sure felt wonderful to have my Goddaughter so near to me.
We said good night, and I told my Daylia that I loved her, and that I was so proud of her, and that I wouldn’t want to be anywhere with anyone else right now.
As we turned off our headlamps, I listened, and there was not a single sound. I think it was the most quiet night I’ve ever spent in a tent in the often-windy Wind Rivers.
I rose the next day at around 6am, started a fire to keep the mosquitos at bay. I made coffee for myself while looking at perfect morning reflections of Island Lake. Daylia slept soundly in the tent. For two hours, I sat and reflected on how blessed I am, and thanked God for all of the blessings in my life, while hearing only the songs of birds. I thought of Jerry and the boys, and of my parents, who first inspired me to get outside in Wind River Country. I thought of Wolf, who was in the same wilderness somewhere on Day 4 of his 30-day NOLS course, and wondered if he was up early too.
Morning reflections in Island Lake.
Daylia and I had a great hike out later in the morning, and right as we thought the adventure could not get any better, we spied a bullwinkle moose in the meadow after Upper Silas Lake, browsing on willows. It looked at us to make sure we weren’t a threat, and for some moments, we watched the moose, and he watched us.
A bullwinkle moose we spied on our hike out.
Yeehaw! Daylia is certified Epic. 🙂
Here’s a video I captured after descending our mountain:
Afterword:
On our drive back to Lander after our epic adventure, Daylia suggested we make our Epic Island Lake Quesadillas and show our families a slideshow of our photos and share about our adventure, which we will do tonight. I can’t wait. I will let her tell the story.
Speaking of her version of the story, my helpful, wonderful, beautiful, adventurous, smart, interesting, courageous – and Epic – Goddaughter agreed to answer some questions for me. Those questions, and her responses, follow:
What all “firsts” did this trip include?
It was my first time backpacking, hiking by, and seeing seven lakes that were new for me, climbing a mountain, starting a campfire, setting up and sleeping in a tent, seeing a moose while on foot, and eating epic rotel and green chile quesadillas.
What was the hardest part about this epic adventure?
The motivation to keep going was definitely the most difficult part. Doing all of those steep uphill and deep lunges was hard!
What were some other challenging aspects of this epic adventure for you?
Some really challenging aspects of the trip included the fear that I would disappoint myself and Shelli, or that I wasn’t strong enough physically and mentally to make the further venture of climbing up a mountain. Some other mundane and obvious challenging aspects were sleeping in a forest, going bathroom in the woods, and the shooting pain in my butt (now buns of steel!) and ankles all the way up.
What was the most fun part of the adventure?
Our conversations, and I also gloried in the sights, and in eating the best quesadillas I’ve ever had (thank you again.)
What was the biggest surprise for you of this adventure?
I climbed a mountain!!!
What was your favorite part of the whole experience?
The best part was realizing that I’m so much stronger than I had thought. By (hesitatingly) saying Yes to the Island Lake adventure, the additional venture to Thumb Lake, and then up the mountain. I feel so self-fulfilled and happy to have accomplished something so much greater than what I thought possible. And I got to do so for my first time with Shelli, whose mountain climb to that particular peak was her first, too!
What was your favorite part about the mountain climb?
Seeing the view from above—all the lakes and mountains—was my favorite, but I also really loved coming down from the peak because it was so cold and windy up there!
Of all the nature and beauty you saw, what was the most beautiful sight you saw?
I actually really liked the Island Lake’s view from our campsite. The glass lake with the tree and
mountain reflections was breathtaking. I also loved seeing all the lakes we’d backpacked past on top of the peak.
What was your favorite part about “camping?”
The campfire was so much fun! It was great roasting marshmallows for s’mores. I felt serene hearing the fire crackle, and watching the flame’s glow.
What insight, or insights will you take from this adventure and epic experience?
If there’s something you so badly want to accomplish or experience but fear begins to overtake you, just say Yes and go for that adventure. You’ll live a much more fulfilling and exciting life, truly living the phrase, “carpe diem” – to seize the day.
Do you think you will be changed in some way as a result of this backpacking experience in the Wind Rivers? If so, how?
I feel stronger physically and emotionally. I never thought I’d be able to carry poles and a 32lb
backpack up a rocky mountain for 1.5-2 hours straight, nor did I emotionally feel up to it, with
exhaustion and the pressure to quit creeping over me.
Any advice for others who have never done anything like this?
Just go with it! You’re definitely stronger than you think you are.
Anything else you’d like to add?
You can do anything through the motivation of a friend and mentor. Without the positive and
encouraging influence of a teacher, I never would have accomplished what I had that day.
FINAL NOTES:
I can provide unforgettable and meaningful custom adventures such as mother-son rite or passage trips, and other special occasion adventures similar to the one I provide my Goddaughter with. Email me if you’d like to discuss a wide range of possibilities.
If you’d like to read more about adventures and hikes in my beloved Wind River Mountains, you can check out a list of several headlines and articles HERE.
This blog post is extra special for me, and I hope you’ll find it to be worth your time, and hopefully, inspiring.
I live in Lander, Wyoming, which is in the heart of Wind River Country, my favorite area in the world. I was raised here, left for some years, and then chose to return here in 1995 to live and eventually raise our family. One of my biggest passions is hiking. I hike with my family, I hike with friends, I lead hiking and backpacking expeditions for women, leadership teams, and all kinds of groups for all kinds of occasions. I also frequently hike alone. Recently, I had a conversation with my friend, Casey Adams, who is writer at Wind River Country. Casey asked me some good questions, which are in bold, for me to reflect on and answer. I’m sharing the conversation here.
Did you have fears of hiking solo when you first started, and what were they?
I started hiking seriously when I was 20 years old – some 27 years ago – and yes, I was afraid of hiking alone. I was frightened by all that could go wrong in the wilderness. The stakes in the wilderness are so much higher than they are in civilization, especially when out there all alone.
But I think this question is interesting because when I first started hiking, I had another fear. I was probably more afraid of being alone than I was of hiking alone, if that makes sense.
Alone on the trail, approaching Temple Peak. (Photo by Joel Krieger)
What did you find was the reality surrounding those fears?
I’ve come to believe that fear is not bad, just something to take seriously and to not ignore. Fear narrows our focus, and in the wilderness, this can literally save a life. So my fears about the wilderness and all that could go wrong haven’t vanished. I did get myself some skills, though, which means I’m better prepared than I used to be. I took a NOLS course and became a Certified Wilderness First Responder, and I now have years of experiences that continue to inform my safety. I always let my husband (or someone) know where I’m going, and when I expect to return. I carry bear spray, and I pay attention. I use an InReach personal locator beacon so my husband can track my whereabouts on my longer treks, and I can send a text letting him know where I am at, what time I expect to return, etc.
The other fear – of being alone – is gone. Over time, the more I hiked alone, the more comfortable I became. I have fallen in love with solitude, even if it was not on purpose. I lost my Division I basketball scholarship in year 3. At 20 years old and a long way from home, I was devastated. I found myself without a map, so to speak. And even though the basketball players remained my friends, I was on a different course, and so I started spending more time alone.
At first it was hard, and uncomfortable. I was afraid people would think I was a loner, or lonely. I find this is the case for many who are not accustomed to spending time alone. It can be uncomfortable at first. Now, I yearn for solitude. When I don’t have regular times of solitude, I feel off center. I hike about 1,000 miles a year, and 500 of those are alone. It’s not because I can’t find anyone to hike with.
When we’re in solitude, we can hear our thoughts, including the good, the bad and the ugly. It can be a sort of reckoning, which is hard, but it is also one of the reasons I argue for its importance. When we’re alone, and our mind is set free to wander, we have new insights, and inspirations that we might not have had. One of my favorite books is Gift From the Sea, by Anne Morrow Lindbergh. In it, she says, “Certain springs are tapped only when we are alone.” I have found this to be the case.
Socrates said, “Know thyself.” One of the best ways I’ve come to know myself, and to discover new things about myself, is by being alone hiking up or down some trail, lost in my thoughts, and available only to me.
Leading some friends on a training hike over Jackass Pass, with Cirque of the Towers in the background.
What did you learn/gain personally by hiking?
That I am more capable than I thought I was. At everything. I’ve learned that I can go farther than I think I can, and this of course has translated to all areas of my life, and my work. I’ve learned how to be self sufficient, and how to survive in the wilderness. These are powerful abilities, not only in the wilderness, but in life.
Yeehaw!
I’ve learned that it’s okay to be vulnerable, that vulnerability is not weakness but courage. I know myself. I know who and what are most important in my life, and much of the credit for this clarity goes to my time spent alone, examining my life while wandering through the woods.
What is special about hiking with only women in the Winds, specifically?
There is so much that is special about sharing the trail or an epic adventure with other women.
Women tend to want to support each other. They seldom compete with one another. Women tend to put others first. They have such empathy for one another. In my experience, women want to help each other succeed.
I lead women’s groups on wilderness expeditions, and I see this over and over and over again. It is inspiring to witness, and it makes me proud to be a woman.
I’ve also learned, and experienced, that as women, we are often self critical. We can be so hard on ourselves. We are usually juggling many demands in our life and our work, and even if we’re keeping all of the balls in the air, we think we ought to be doing better, or more. What I’ve learned is that self criticism is not helpful, and that it crashes the party, usually during times when we could really use support. I speak from experience here… I have struggled with self criticism my whole life. So one of the things that I hope women who hike together, and with me, gain is a better understanding of themselves, which can have the wonderful effect of helping them to be more compassionate to themselves.
When a friend or a colleague is struggling up a mountain in his or her life, we are likely to be compassionate and supportive. But when we’re doing it ourselves, we’re often our worst critic. It’s so much more powerful to love ourselves rather than beat ourselves up. There’s that wonderful saying, “Treat others like you’d like to be treated.” I would like to add, “And treat yourself the way you’d like to treat others.” When we are as kind to ourselves as we are to others, amazing things happen. We experience joy again. We stop comparing ourselves, or our lives, to others.
Leading last year’s Epic Women Expedition up East Temple Peak, in the Wind River Range, during morning alpenglow.
What lessons do you most enjoy seeing the women you coach discover when they’re in the mountains, specifically when they’re on their own?
That they can climb mountains. Literally, but also in their life. That just because terrain may be loose, they can find stability in it if they pay attention and are deliberate in taking their steps.
Tina Postel, from Charlotte, NC, one of my 2015 Epic Women, said, “trekking in the wilderness showed me that I could lead without having all of the answers. Leadership is sometimes acknowledging what you don’t know and letting others show you the way. Prior to my wilderness experience, I was too proud to be seen as vulnerable. As women leaders we sometimes want to appear stronger or more confident than we feel internally so as not to be viewed as weak by others. But displaying my vulnerabilities ironically has helped me be a stronger leader.” I could not say it better.
My Epic Women group, atop Mitchell Peak, in 2014.
What tips would you give someone who is considering heading out on a hike on his or her own?
First of all, I dare you to do it! You will be so glad you did.
Start small. Pick a well-known trail, and make the decision that you are going to go on a solo hike. Find out the specifics, such as trailhead location, distance, etc. Check the weather forecast. Be sure to tell someone about your plans, including your estimated time of departure, where you’re hiking, and your estimated return.
I recommend leaving at sunrise. The light in the morning is a bonus, and it will be more of a solo hike if you beat the crowds and have some of the country and views to yourself. Leave your headphones, music and/or podcasts in the car. You’ll be more open and alert to your surroundings. Listen to nature’s sounds. Smell the trees, sagebrush and flowers. Look up and around. Let your mind wander. Listen to your thoughts. Imagine. Every now and then, stop and take a breather. Just be where you’re at. We hear a lot about the value of being present, of being in the present moment. In my experience, nothing helps us be present like being alone in the wilderness.
Hiking alone near Saddlebag Lake, in Wind River Country. (Photo by Scott Copeland)
Have a great time! And, great job getting out to hike alone. I promise this will be the start of a great journey with yourself.
Shelli Johnson, owner of Epic Life, is an entrepreneur, life and leadership coach, leadership development facilitator, keynote presenter, writer, adventurer and guide. She is married to Jerry, and is the mother of three sons, Wolf, 16, Hayden, 14, and Fin, 9. She lives in Lander, WY, where she frequently hikes in the foothills and mountains of the Wind River Range. #WindRiverCountry
First of all, I apologize this isn’t a shorter post. But as the saying goes, I would have written less but I didn’t have time.
Do you want to make a change? Then you’ve come to the right place. I have a new system to share that is easy – and proven – for making a dream come true, or a change for the better.
Hi there.
I’ve made significant changes to my life during the last 5 years, and all of them stuck, and so far have lasted.
There is a book that is most responsible for helping me to master change-making, and it is Switch, by Dan and Chip Heath. I can’t recommend it enough. I read it when it came out in 2010, and it has had a huge impact on my life. So much so that I use many of the principles discussed in the book when I coach, and facilitate development for leaders from throughout the U.S.
Now there’s a new book in my toolkit and, if you are wishing for a dream to come true, or to make a change in your life, then I suggest you get your hands on it. It’s Rethinking Positive Thinking, Inside the New Science of Motivation, by Gabriele Oettingen, a Professor of Psychology at New York University and the University of Hamburg. The book is based on 20 years of research and large-scale studies.
I should come clean here and say I’m an optimist to a fault. I not only think the glass is half full, I think the glass itself is amazing. Among other things, I am an emotional intelligence consultant, and optimism is one of the most valuable traits a person could wish to have. We have the power to choose to be positive, even when things are not awesome. The late, great Viktor Frankl, a Holocaust survivor, Austrian psychiatrist and neurologist, and author of the influential Man’s Search for Meaning(another book I so highly recommend!), said, “Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”
In addition, having positive fantasies is pleasureful, and optimism helps us alleviate our present suffering, while also helping us persevere through adversity. At the bottom of a mountain, it is absolutely more helpful to thinking positively than it is to think negatively.
However, as Oettingen points out, positive thinking is mostly helpful only in the short-term. Positive thinking, and positive fantasies, while they offer value, do not help us achieve our long-terms goals, and in fact, may help ensure that we don’t.
It isn’t enough to sit and dream; we have to take action and make sacrifices… Our dreams may be realizable, but they come down to challenges that require engagement and action. The good news… is that it’s possible to move energetically toward many of our wishes, and to do a much better job deciding which wishes are worth our effort and which aren’t, writes Oettingen.
Research over the past 20 years finds that dreaming about a desired future leads to low investment and little success, regardless of life domains, such as health, work, and interpersonal relationships. In order to benefit from positive thinking about the future, people need to incorporate in that positive thinking a clear sense of reality.
Most of us do not live our Epic Life, or have our greatest impact, or pursue our dreams because of fear. We fear failure, we fear disappointing others, we fear disappointing ourself, and we fear making a fool out of ourselves. These are fears most of us share, and at least one of them is usually the reason we play it safe instead of daring to do what we want or need to do.
One way to overcome these fears, or to proceed despite them, is to confront them at the outset. As an entrepreneur, goal-oriented person, coach and leadership development facilitator, I often use what Tim Ferriss calls “negative visualization” to help myself, or others, identify and articulate risks. By assessing the fears/risks in advance, often we realize the fears aren’t as bad as we make them out to be, which can have the powerful and beneficial effect of nudging us forward, not to mention keep us from being reckless in our pursuits. This process is also called conducting a premortem – imagining in advance all that could go wrong so that we can persevere if and when things go wrong.
Oettingen isn’t suggesting we do away with positive thinking. Rather, it’s making the most of our fantasies by brushing them up against the very thing most of us are taught to ignore or diminish: the obstacles that stand in our way, she writes.
Oettingen calls this process mental contrasting. And her system for helping us achieve our goals and realize our dreams is calling WOOP, which stands for Wish, Outcome, Obstacle, Plan.(In scientific literature it’s called Mental Contrasting with Implementation Intentions, or MCII)
Here’s how it works:
1. Determine a WISH that you have. It can be a short-term goal or a long-term dream. (For example, I tried this out by having a wish, Write a Blog Post Today.)
2. Consider the best OUTCOME. (Given my aforementioned experiment, my outcome was to publish the blog post)
3. Consider the main OBSTACLE that could likely stand in the way of your wish coming true. (I am leaving town at noon, and I also had to write some emails to clients and I also wanted to get a 1-hour skate ski session in. These things could prevent me from having enough time to write and publish a blog post.)
4. Make an If-Then PLAN, such as If (enter obstacle), then (enter desired action). (If I don’t have enough time, then I will skip skiing so I can write and publish the blog post.)
Remember, this system is based on 20 years of research and many large-scale studies. It works. (This blog post is proof, right?! I used the app to create a 24-hour WOOP to accomplish this goal of writing and publishing a blog post before leaving town today at noon. Check!)
A bigger wish I have is related to a family trip we’re planning to Europe. We’re making our first international trip in late May and it will be for 4 weeks. My wish is to really experience and grow with my husband and our three sons while seeing a new part of the world. The ideal outcome for me is for us to further enrich our relationships with one another. A potential obstacle that could prevent the desired outcome is that I’ll be so busy capturing it in photos and sharing them with my networks that I will miss being as present as I’d like to be with my family during the experience. I know with all my being that this is a real threat to realizing my desired outcome. So a plan I will implement is to post only one photo per day from my phone, and then use my camera for the rest of the memory captures.
On that subject of wanting to be present, for yet another book I highly recommend, see Sherry Turkle’s Reclaiming Conversation. Turkle is a social scientist at MIT, and has done extensive research on our increasing tethered-ness to our cell phones. As a result of this tethered-ness, we are often “alone together” – together, but not really. The book, and Turkle’s work are a real cautionary tale. I have been working on strictly limiting my technology use, and our family tried one week without it. It was hard AND amazing. I blogged about it here if you’re interested.
In conclusion, I don’t know about you, but for me, the higher the stakes, the more critical it is that I not only imagine my dream, but that I do the work required to make it come true.
P.S. Here is an exceptional podcast interview with Oettingen by the great Dr. Scott Barry Kaufman. Also, check out WoopMyLife.org to see many testimonials from people in the health, interpersonal and academic domains who have tried, and had success, using the WOOP system. And/or download the app for free on your cell phone.
Thanks for reading, and best wishes at making your wishes come true using the WOOP technique.
Whew! We made it to the other side. If you read my last post, my family and I embarked on what I am calling a 7-Day Epic Wellness Challenge. (Read the pre-challenge post and see the pre-challenge video interviews.)
Hi there!
In short, we agreed to give up a lot. We basically gave up technology, auto transportation, and processed foods for a week. (At the outset, a friend suggested we were going Amish, and that description would be pretty apt.)
I’m excited to report here about both the challenges and the takeaways from our experience.This blog post is lengthy, and I apologize for that. But it was a long week, after all! (We also recorded a video with post-challenge insights from each of us, which you’ll find at the end of this post. I hope you’ll watch it, but I also hope you’ll read this post because there are more insights that we discovered after we recorded the video, and they’re significant, and unfortunately, not included in the video.)
Hi. We are the Johnsons.
Many have asked me what inspired this challenge. That’s a good question. Four things inspired it: 1–I’m a health enthusiast and wellness coach and presenter. I am always experimenting with ways of eating, ways of exercising, and most importantly, ways of living. I’m a huge fan of the Blue Zones work being done by Dan Buettner. I love my life and I want to live as long as I can, as vitally as I can. I know that life expectancy for me is 78.7 years. I also know that the many healthy habits I’ve adopted over the course of the last six years increase my expectancy to 91. Barring cancer or other disease or tragedy, that’s 32 years more years of life if I live the typical American woman’s life, or 44 years if I continue to make some sacrifices and live a more disciplined life. If I’m lucky and I do live to be 91, that’s only 16,000 days I have left. And, as far as I’m concerned, that’s not enough. So, I’m fascinated by aging in a way that extends and improves my life. It just so happens that my family is the most important thing in my life, so their health is even more important than mine. I wanted to see if our giving up technology, auto transportation and processed foods for a week would translate into more vitality.
2–I love challenges. I like committing to things that are difficult – so difficult that the outcome is uncertain. This week of deprivations fit the bill for being difficult. I know – my poor family! Friends and colleagues have asked me, “How did you get your family to go along with this?” Here’s how: I asked them, while explaining how much I wanted to do it, and they said Yes. (I know how lucky I am to have them willing to get on board – and how unlucky they were!)
3–My curiosity. I love to learn and discover new things. I was curious about how embarking on a challenge like this together might affect our family. I was inspired to make new discoveries with the people I love the most.
4–My desire for us to return to the ways of my childhood, if even only for most of the time and not all of the time. When I was a kid, I biked everywhere, with friends, and to friends’ houses. I played outside all of the time, and in creative ways. Jerry has the same memories of his childhood. He remembers being turned loose and playing ‘til the sun went down. Ours are fond memories and reflective of a healthy life, and we want our boys to experience similar times, especially during the summer when school is out and the weather is nice.
LIMITED TECHNOLOGY:
During the 7-day period, we gave up all television, movies, video games, and even listening to music and podcasts on devices. We gave up all social media, including Facebook, Instagram, etc. Our two oldest sons gave up their cell phones. Jerry used his only for family correspondence, and I used mine only on weekdays and only for coaching and other work-related calls. I gave up my cell phone completely for the weekend. In fact, to ensure I wouldn’t goof up, I turned my phone off and locked it in the trunk of my car Friday evening.
Here’s what happened: We played a lot together. We played many games – a different game every evening. One night we had a pool tournament followed by a ping pong tournament. The next night we had a heated game of Aggravation. The next night we played Life. Another night we played Apples to Apples. I loved games before, and we’re a game-playing family. One of the reasons I love playing games with my family, or with anyone for that matter, is it is FUN. Most games generate spontaneous interaction, and “play” happens. Our connections with each other are deepened. Or, in more personal games, where there are just two of you, conversation is facilitated that just wouldn’t occur if you were watching a movie together.
Playing the game, Life.
We went on family hikes. We saw my parents more. We biked a lot. We biked all over town and to parks and playgrounds. Once we biked to a playground, where we played basketball and messed around on the monkey bars and swings.
A hike with my mom, the boys' "Mommom."
Our two oldest sons and our dog Buddy, joined me for a sunrise hike.
Fin, swinging on monkey bars during one of our many bike rides to various playgrounds.
What what hard about it: I would be lying if I didn’t say the lack of technology was challenging for each and all of us. Every night during dinner we’d each share what was most difficult about the day. For example, my husband, Jerry, missed watching the news on television every morning. He gets up early every day and catching the news on TV while drinking his coffee and reading the newspaper are a morning ritual for him. He missed this.
I missed Facebook. I love Facebook and missed checking in on a regular basis to see what friends and colleagues and relatives were up to. I have a dear friend who is traveling with her family in Africa right now, and I missed being able to see their photos and posts. One night I wanted Kimchi, and I wondered where in our small town I could find that. Normally I would post a quick question to Facebook, and within minutes would have 10 responses from local friends. Another time, I talked our two oldest sons into getting up before sunrise and hiking with me. I captured a wonderful photo of them with our dog in flowers with the sun rising in the background. I would have loved to have shared that photo in real time, (and hopefully inspire others to get up and hike our trails at sunrise.)
Wolf, 15, and Hayden, 13, most missed their cell phones and the quick access to their friends. Our youngest son, Fin, 8, missed morning cartoons. All three of our sons missed having what we call “privileges” on Friday and Saturday nights – a chance to play some video games and watch a rented movie together.
Not texting was hard for me, too, and I goofed early on. One of our son’s friends left a note on our door asking if he could get his work gloves back, which he had left in my car the previous day. I quickly (automatically) texted his mom and indicated we put them in our mailbox for them to fetch the next day. And there was one other similar goof-up by me on this front. They were not intentional, and I am reporting that I quickly course-corrected myself.
We all missed listening to music. That was hard during trips to the trailhead, on my work trip to and from Dubois, for the boys when playing in the Lego Room, and for all of us during times when we were just hanging out at home or in the backyard, which was often! However I have a vivid memory of Day 3 when Jerry and Fin were playing ping pong out back and I was shooting hoops with Hayden, and beautiful piano music was being played by Wolf and filling our back yard through the screen door. That was an amazing memory!
Takeaways:
–Without our gadgets and various technology privileges, we were together more. There’s just no other way to explain it. Sherry Turkle’s Alone Together is a book I recommend. I read it a couple of years ago but was reminded of it during this challenge. In the book, Turkle examines the current landscape – one where we all have our gadgets and instant connection to our friends and networks that are in another physical place. Being together more often meant being together-together rather than alone-together. We had to work harder to be together. There was definitely more arguing and nagging than normal, which was at times frustrating for all of us, and certainly required effort. We had to work harder at co-existing.
–The upside to being together more, and even to arguing more as a result, is that we bonded at a deeper level over the 7 days. I can say that by the end of each day, I had had numerous meaningful conversations with each of our sons, and with my husband. This is significant, because my best (epic) life is one where I have meaningful connections on a regular basis with my loved ones.
–For the weekend, I locked my phone in the car. And it’s a good thing I did because I counted 30 times that I passed by the area where my phone is usually plugged in, to “check” my phone. This was telling, if not surprising. I’m a little too tethered to my cell phone. I will likely go many weekends from here on out with my phone locked in the car. 🙂 I actually go unplugged often. All of my wilderness expeditions are unplugged, and often when on a road trip in Wyoming there is no reliable cell signal. As much as I love my technology, I LOVE being free from it. But despite knowing I love to be untethered when it comes to my cell phone, I also love to be tethered. I will continue to work on this and be more conscious about the time I invest using technology.
(BTW, if you want to break a habit, or stop doing something, I highly recommend you “remove” it from your environment. Ask yourself, are you practicing saying No to something, or are you practicing living a better way that does not include that thing? They are not the same thing, and I can tell you the former is more difficult. You have a better chance at success by removing the thing from your environment.)
–There are tricks to help make restrictions easier. Since I was still using my cell phone for work on week days, it was even harder to ignore Facebook and Instagram because the apps were right there at my fingertips. Anticipating that ignoring social media would be hard, I moved these apps from my home screen to a screen at the very back, making it unlikely for me to stumble upon them. I also turned off notifications for Facebook, Instagram, and Messaging. This is a tip I often promote in presentations and in my leadership development work. But before this challenge, I wasn’t following my own advice. Doing this was a brilliant way to not be alerted by comments or posts or messages in my social network. (This helped tremendously, especially when you consider that when I finally checked Facebook this morning, after 7 days away from it, I had 92 notifications, 11 new friend requests and 8 unread Facebook messages!) Not having the little red circle with the number of new notifications next to the Facebook app on my home screen helped me achieve my goal.
–The boys biked or walked to friends’ houses. What a concept, right?! This is how Jerry and I did it when we were our sons’ ages, but boy, how times have changed. This rarely happens – especially without prior arrangements made via a cell phone.
–I saved the most significant takeaway for this category for last: Without our technological gadgets and distractions, time passed more slowly. Our family talked about this at dinner on Night 7, and everyone agreed that during the seven days, the days were longer, and that this was a positive.
My husband put it this way: “We had to be there, in real time, together, and somehow that made time pass more slowly. We weren’t zoning out watching a movie or looking at our phone and then suddenly wondering where the time went.”
Seneca said “Life is long enough if you know how to use it.” We have learned that our time is longer without gadgets, or at least with some strictly-enforced rules and boundaries around gadgets.”
NO CARS:
For the 7-day period, we were not allowed to use our cars for any transportation, except to travel to a trailhead, or for my half-day work trip to Dubois, WY, on Tuesday. We had to bike and walk everywhere.
Here’s what happened: We are already an active family. For months now, I’ve been deliberately walking to places more often, and during the summer it’s typical for us to have our kids biking and walking to places. But still, this was harder than anticipated.
We walked, and biked A LOT. My FitBit reports I walked 175,000 steps (about 70 miles!) in 7 days. That does include a training hike and a family hike, but still, that’s a lot of steps, and the stat is reflective of our family walking so many places. BTW, I gained some useful information: I now know that it’s 3,000 steps, roundtrip, to our local grocery market. It’s 2,000 steps roundtrip to my parents’ house. It’s 5,000 roundtrip steps to the Oxbow, where Rotary meets on Wednesdays. It’s 2,000 pedal revolutions (if you ride a coaster bike and take the out-of-the way, scenic route, to the print shop to ship my package via UPS. It’s 3,000 roundtrip steps to the elementary school playground. And so on.)
Fin and I. Notice I have a backpack on for groceries we were about to fetch, and a package we would deliver to UPS.
A particularly special positive: our boys rode their bikes to my parents’ (their mommom and poppop’s) house more frequently. We spend a lot of time with my parents, but our boys spending more time over there on their own was neat, and it was a highlight for them.
Did I mention I love Lander, Wyoming? Ours is an awesome community that is a small town where one can walk or bike everywhere.
Jerry and Wolf returning from the grocery store.
As far as I know, there isn’t a study that reports that sitting is inspiring or that sitting makes us more creative or healthy. There are, however, countless studies that indicate walking is inspiring and makes us more creative and energized. As Americans, we sit an average of 9.3 hours a day. And when we sit this much, we’re more likely to get particular diseases and cancers, and it’s no wonder we’re not feeling more inspired. (BTW, gym rats are not off the hook. You can be fit but not healthy. I think not too long ago I was a case in point. Even though I hike 1,000 miles a year, and train hard 3-4 times a week, I was quite sedentary each day. I bought a FitBit 18 months ago. Now I average 10,000-20,000 steps a day. This increased mobility throughout my day is just about 100% due to my FitBit and the fact it makes me more conscious about my level of activity each day.)
“Walking, ideally, is a state in which the mind, the body, and the world are aligned, as though they were three characters finally in conversation together, three notes suddenly making a chord. Walking allows us to be in our bodies and in the world without being made busy by them.” – Rebecca Solnit, Wanderlust: A History of Walking.
What was hard about it: Sometimes we were just tired of moving.. (On one day of our challenge, we walked three times to the market, in addition to going on a family hike in the mountains)
One day – the same day I had gone on a hard training hike – I walked to the grocery store, to the hardware store, and then remembered I had a package to ship. Normally it would take about 8 minutes, total, to drive the package to UPS and return. It took me almost 30 minutes on my bike to run the same errand. I was tired that day from my time on my feet and it was hard to muster the motivation to bike that package up and not wait for Thursday to come when I could drive it!
One night we had dinner on the table and realized we were missing a key condiment. Was it worth walking or biking to the market? We voted No. But if we could have driven there, we would have definitely opted to go and get it.
On Night 7, Wolf had to get to a haircut, and walked in pouring rain and thunder with an umbrella and rain jacket on to and from. Normally we’d give him a ride.
Takeaways:
–Here’s our biggest takeaway for this category: When we don’t use cars, we sleep better at night. By the end of each day, we were tired! We were already an active family. But take away the cars completely, and we reached a new level of active. (My FitBit also tracks my sleep, and except for one night when someone, who I will not name, did some unusually raucous snoring, my FitBit indicates my sleeping was improved for the week.)
Before you start yawning… Sleeping better is kind of a big deal. Hopefully you’ve been reading the latest news about sleep science. Some of the smartest, healthiest people I know are now calling sleep the #1 health habit. Poor sleep and sleep deprivation wreak havoc on our health. Poor sleep can lead to depression, anxiety, obesity and diabetes, just to provide a small sampling of what poor sleep can lead to. I’m pretty sure it was our increased activity levels that caused us all to sleep better, but I also have a feeling that the lack of screens in the evening also helped. (One of the best ways to improve sleep is to remove use of all screens, including TV, computer, iPad and cell phones at least 2 hours before closing in.)
–Another positive is that Jerry and I were no longer chauffeurs! Yeehaw to that, right?!
–Add to that, the boys had much more freedom. As long as they were willing to bike or walk, and we they weren’t at the mercy of our schedules and availability for driving them or picking them up, they could do almost anything.
–And finally, errands became experiences rather than errands. When walking to the grocery store for 10 items takes 45 minutes total, you’re walking more than you’re grocery shopping. These trips became as much about our walking or biking as they were about fetching something we needed. This opportunity for meaningful conversation isn’t as likely to happen while in the car for 1-5 minutes when running an errand.
NO PROCESSED FOODS:
We agreed to not eat any packaged or processed foods except for the occasional gluten-free energy bar. We would shop only the perimeter of the grocery store and eat real food. Now, as I mentioned in the pre-challenge video and blog post, we have done lots of work on our eating already. For example, there are no processed foods consumed in our home from Monday through Thursday. However, the boys are allowed to have cereal on Friday mornings, frozen pizzas on Friday evening, donuts occasionally on Saturday mornings, and soda pop with their popcorn on Saturday nights. Still, this would be hard because our 7 days included a weekend, and also, it’s summer and there are more sugary sweet treats available (ice cream, slushees, s’mores, etc.)
The boys, making healthy choices at the local grocery store.
Here’s what happened: Not much “happened,” other than feeling a little deprived on the weekend. The boys definitely missed having their weekly soda pop with our traditional Saturday night popcorn. And Wolf, who is famous for his carefully placed “donut request” poems and notes on a paper plate, missed getting donuts for he and his brothers on Saturday morning. And, there were no “Mommy’s famous epic pancakes” on Sunday.
On Night 7, during dinner, we all agreed that giving up processed foods was hard, but was the least difficult of the three categories.
Takeaways:
–“Treats” taste even better when you’ve gone without them for a while. Well-practiced at giving up things for long periods of time, I can say that it’s worth giving things up just for the benefit of how awesome they taste when you do surrender.
–Watermelons are heavy when you have to carry them a mile.
–We were forced to get more creative with our food and vegetables, and the boys’ lunches. (Hayden was working as a junior counselor for a camp for young kids, and Wolf was enrolled in Driver’s Ed and started his first job.) And I’m here to report the obvious: Food can be tasty even if it’s not processed. (Sorry to be a buzzkill here, but did you know that Americans consume 22 teaspoons of refined sugar a day, and 100-150 pounds of refined sugar a year? Sugar is 8x more addictive than cocaine. And before you think you’re off the hook because you don’t eat donuts and you only eat cake on birthdays, consider that 80% of the refined sugars we eat are in packaged and processed foods that most people generally don’t think are unhealthy.Examples include many yogurts, breakfast cereals that claim to be healthy, tomato sauce, ketchup, lunch meat, etc.)
Conclusion:
In summary, we embarked on this challenge to see if we could accomplish something hard, and also to get healthier in the process. We accomplished both of those goals.
While hopefully the above provides insights to benefits that each of us enjoyed, I want to share my biggest personal realization: I am better when distractions are removed. I was more present in my life and my family’s life. I’m pretty certain I was a better wife, a better mother – a better everything. Time passed slower and I felt more alive.
I am so inspired by the results that I’m feeling compelled to do this on a semi-regular basis. I’m also interested in working to inspire other individuals and families to consider embarking on similar challenges. For example, I think it would be pretty darned awesome if any of you would agree to give up cars for a week. Or if families would consider giving up cell phones and technology for a week, or a weekend. Or if people would consider going 7 days – or 30 days – without eating processed foods.
As far as I can tell, any of these is a small price to pay in exchange for longer-lasting and more meaningful days.
And, last, but not least… here is a video with comments from each member of my family. (Note: We recorded this yesterday – the final day of our challenge)
I just returned from giving a keynote presentation at a Wellness conference, so wellness is on my mind more than usual. In addition to being a life, leadership, health and wellness coach, I’m a health enthusiast. Some would even call me a health nut. I track food intake, steps, sleep, and heart rate variability, among other things.
I am excited to report that my family is on board with me for embarking on a 7-day challenge that starts tomorrow (June 4) and will last for a week. We’re giving up a lot in the interest of deepening our connections, being more active and mobile, being less distracted and more in tune with each other and our surroundings, and in reaping the benefits of feeding our bodies healthy foods.
We are giving up all television, movies, video games, social networking. We’re giving up cars and transportation, with 3 very limited exceptions (see below image of our family’s signed “contract” for details), and we’re giving up processed foods. We’ll shop only the perimeter of the grocery market to ensure we’re buying and consuming healthy, real foods. We’ll walk and bike everywhere. We’ll spend our free time together biking, hiking, fishing, walking, playing board games and visiting our community’s playgrounds.
Disclaimer: As a matter of fact, we are already an extremely active family, and we’re quite health-conscious. We hike and play outside a lot, and from Monday through Thursday there are no processed foods consumed at our house, and we watch no television or video games from Monday through Thursday. We made all of these changes about 12 months ago. But there is more we can do. We often drive places that are only blocks away. The wheels come off to an unhealthy extent when it comes to “treats” and foods the kids eat on weekends, and we’re all a little too distracted by our screens. So there is much room for improvement, and this challenge will not be easy.
Here is a video that includes bits from me, my husband, and each of our three sons, as we get ready to embark on this 7-day Epic Health Challenge:
Our family’s signed “contract:”
In addition to being a health enthusiast, I’m a voracious reader. Many of the books and articles I read are related to health and wellness. I am very much inspired by Dan Buettner’s Blue Zones work and research. In fact, I highly recommend his latest book, The Blue Zones Solution, Eating and Living Like the World’s Healthiest People. The Blue Zones are the five places in the world where people live the longest, with the least disease and the most vitality. In researching these areas, and in interviewing centenarians, Buettner and his team of experts came up with 9 common denominators – otherwise known as “The Power 9” – that are common in areas where people live the longest, healthiest lives.
The Power 9 are: Move naturally (live in or set up an environment that nudges you to move naturally throughout the day) Purpose (people in the Blue Zones have something to live for beyond their work), Downshift (do things to remove/release stress), 80 percent rule (eat ’til you’re 80% full), Plant Slant (eat mostly plant foods), Wine @ 5 (people in the Blue Zones often drink wine in late afternoon), Right Tribe (the world’s longest-lived people choose social circles with healthy behaviors), Community (research shows that faith-based services are a common facet in Blue Zones communities), and Loved Ones First (successful centenarians put their families first.)
This 7-day Epic Health Challenge we’re embarking upon aims to bring some of the Blue Zones ways to the Johnson household. I will be blogging here about the experiment once it ends, and also for a blog at Barlean’s. I hope you’ll check back to see what we learned from the experiment!
As usual, thank you for your time, and for reading this. I really appreciate it.
I just returned from giving a keynote presentation at the Wyoming Worksite Wellness Conference.
The content for my presentation comes from what I have learned in my mere 46.916 years of various experiences, and in my work, which includes coaching about 100 women and men in some capacity during the last 4-5 years. I have some 30 “life lessons,” but, due to time and our limited attention spans, I usually only feature the top 8-10 in a presentation. One that never makes the final cut is Pack The Right Stuff. And yet I think it’s one of the most important.
When I lead or participate in a wilderness expedition, I always struggle with keeping my load light. I’m an over-packer and this is too bad, since I’m sold on the benefits of packing light, and because I’m always challenging my clients to lighten their loads.
As we organize our loads for an expedition, we go through this exercise where we consider each item and ask, “Will this unnecessarily weigh me down, or will it add to my experience?” This is an effort to inspire people to dare to “strip down” and get to the bare minimum of what they’ll need. Doing so significantly affects the amount of effort it will take to hike uphill and off-trail, at altitude, on rugged trails, with a load on your back.
But the exercise is also worthwhile because it causes us to be intentional about what we decide to carry. And, anything that causes us to be more intentional is a good thing.
My big backpack, with me and a mountain in the background. 🙂
For example, I’ll carry an extra five pounds in chocolate and coffee, but will lose an extra pair of socks or shorts or pants. That’s a reasonable exchange as far as I’m concerned. One of clients may opt to have more fresh clothes and fewer luxurious food items. Recently one of my Epic Women asked about packing a solar shower. 🙂 My husband, bless his heart, will often pack not one knife, but 3. Three knives, you ask?! I guess one to defend against a wild animal, one to clean a trout with and one to slice the cheese?
But this blog is not about removing a knife, or an extra pair of shorts from your load, but rather to consider what you carry every day in your life, and how intentional you are about what you’re carrying. Consider for a moment, what might you shed that is unnecessarily weighing you down or holding you back? What might you add that could enrich your experience?
For example, one item I’m working to shed from my everyday life is self criticism. In its place, I’m adding self compassion. Two months ago, I removed judgment, and added in its place The Beginner’s Mind. And so on… Because changes are hard, and adjusting our load requires attention and consideration, I recommend evaluating one item at a time, and giving each one some time to fit into your load. Maybe consider “sizing up” and adjusting your load on a monthly basis. Think depth not breadth. (BTW, check out this bit on “making smaller circles” by chess prodigy Josh Waitzkin, at his The Art of Learning Project. It is fascinating!)
This work of consciously choosing what we’ll carry and what we’ll leave behind is not easy, and yet it’s vital if we are to live our best, most epic life.
Thanks for reading, and I’d love it if you’d share your thoughts on what you’d like to shed from your life, and what you’d like to add.
I am very active. I’m pretty fit. I hike a ton, and I lift heavy things every once in a while.
What I am not, is flexible. So as a new year’s resolution, one of my goals is to be able to touch my nose to my knee (in a hurdlers stretch). Every weekday for 5-10 minutes, I stretch and work at it. I’m not there yet. I’m closer, but not very much closer.
This is a great metaphor for living our best (epic) life. To live an extraordinary life takes stretching and practice. Despite my practice, some days it seems I’ve gone backwards. Like yesterday. My nose was about a foot away, and I couldn’t get it any closer. A week before, I got to within 3 inches. This morning (as proven in this photo), I was within 12 inches, but far from where I was a week ago. Tomorrow could be my best stretch yet. Or not.
Doing my stretching before I go on my morning hike. As you can see, I'm not very flexible.
Even if progress is slow and not linear, it’s happening. But it’s only happening as a result of practice and commitment and a little bit of discomfort. (However, in looking at the photo from today and considering I’ve been trying to reach my nose to my knees for 4 months now and still haven’t done it, I’m realizing I need to practice more than I am!)
Of course I’m stretching in my life in more significant ways. Many more significant ways. (Including but not limited to being a better wife, a better mother, a better daughter, a better sister, a better friend, a better coach, developing another side business, improving my juggling, getting more speaking gigs, creating an online course, submitting stories to get published, trying to be still more, and the list goes on)
But this particular stretch — stretching to become more physically flexible – is one of my most important if for no other reason than it is a daily reminder of what I need to do in order to become more capable and to live my epic life.
If you are looking to change your life, then I’m looking for you.
But first, a quick backstory: I’m 47 years old, and over the years, at various times, I have needed to change my life. Working with a life coach on several occasions has helped me to transform my life.
What is a life coach? That is a great question, and one that I get asked often.
Hi there.
My 7-year-old son, Finis (“Fin”), once explained, “my mom takes people up tall mountains, and also talks to people on the phone at night and makes money while doing it.” Both are true. I guide people up tall mountains when clients sign up for a guided Epic Adventure with me, and, I often have coaching calls with clients in the evening to accommodate their busy schedules, for which I am paid.
Most of all, I do help people climb tall mountains – but they are their mountains, not mine. In the last 5 years, I’ve worked with, and coached, more than 100 individuals in some capacity. I’ve worked with women, men, and leadership teams. I’ve learned a lot from the work, and the people I champion.
Epic Life Offerings...
I describe what I do this way: Someone who wants to, or has to, climb a tall mountain – i.e. make, or endure, a big change in their life – will often enlist me as a coach to help them make the climb. People hire me when they’re thinking about (metaphorically) climbing the mountain, or when they are at the base of said mountain. Often I get “called in” when they’re already en route up the mountain but they hit a particularly difficult patch and they feel they can’t go it alone. They want to stay the course, but could use some help. Rather than bailing and giving up on the climb, they hire me as their coach.
In other words, I’m not a helicopter that gets called in. I’m not in the rescue business. Rather, people hire me to help them lean in and stay and persevere through the hard part(s) of their life. I’m in the championing and “guiding” business.
I’d love to work with you, or your organization. Please check out this brochure or email me to schedule a call.
You have an Epic Life. The question is, are you living it?
We have a golden retriever named Buddy. He is such an awesome dog. He is our constant companion and a vital member of our family.
My Buddy – lying around and waiting...
Do you have a dog? If so, what is he/she doing right now? I know – what an odd question for a blog on this site. But stay with me, I’m getting to the point, and it’s a good one…
I live in Wyoming, in a small mountain town, and we get out a lot. (Our family’s rule is “if our fingernails aren’t dirty, we aren’t having fun.”) This is all to say that Buddy gets out. A. Lot.
But lately I’ve been so busy at my computer and on the phone developing my business and trying to book more clients and work, that days have gone by where Buddy doesn’t get out. When this happens, Buddy’s life is pretty mediocre. Sure, I keep him company. We’re home all day together as I work. I have great intentions… But mostly – and I’m very sad to admit this – Buddy is not paid enough attention when I’m consumed by my work.
So, Buddy moves around from couch to recliner to the floor, just laying there, waiting, and hoping that his master will get her hiking shoes on and motion for him to leave the house to go out and… live.
Seeing Buddy lay there, waiting to be tended to and played with, reminds me of my Epic Life – the times when it’s with me, but I’m not living it. I hope you’re doing better than I am this week! I resolve to do better by Buddy (and my epic life) next week…
Thank you for listening. I would love to hear your thoughts and get some comments and conversation going about this. 🙂
P.S. If you’re interested in life and leadership coaching, a keynote presenter to light a fire for your team or organization, leadership development facilitation, or a guided Epic adventure that’s bundled with life coaching and a training program that will get you in the best shape of your life, please check out this brochure or email me to schedule a call.
