The Humbling Nature Experience. Or, How John Muir Taught Me How Awful Nature Can Be.

View of Penacook Lake on the Marjory Swope Trail

I've been having these Epic John Muir-esque Fantasies. Dreams where I should be backpacking in Acadia National Park, The Long Trail, and The Presidential Mountain Range. In these fantasies, I am dislodged from my dull routine life and finding my bliss among the mountains and forests of New England, living among the elements for a few weeks and becoming connected with the oneness of our amazing planet. Enlighten myself to nature and have the wild, rooted parts of my soul engaged with the beauty of near solitude.

So - on my day off - I decided to go take a hike. Disconnect from the computer, my books, my material possessions and take a walk in the woods alone. Maybe it would lift my spirits a bit and get me out of the house on a beautiful summer day.

My first mistake was waking up to the downpour.
Oh I thought. Well, maybe it will just be a sprinkle. It should clear up by the time I start my short hike. I laced up my swanky, expensive, waterproof hiking boots, grabbed an umbrella, and headed off to the trailhead in my car. The rain didn't let up. That's okay! I won't melt, I have an umbrella! I started my way up the incredibly short, beautiful jaunt around the Marjory Swope Trail.

The second, bigger mistake was being unprepared.

Even though I have lived in New Hampshire most of my life, even though I knew how to read a map, even though I read books and heard plenty of news stories about how terribly awful the weather can get if you are unprepared for ANY trail. I still pushed all warnings to the back of my skull. I may be a novice hiker, but I still know how to hike, or so I thought.

I have an anxiety disorder, it makes me overthink a lot of scenarios and then those almost always snowball into irrational thoughts. An example would be: BRING PLENTY OF WATER IN CASE YOU GET LOST. OH, AND BRING A WHISTLE TOO IN CASE YOU FIND YOURSELF ATTACKED BY VAGABONDS. Kinda like that. It got so bad today that I chickened out 5 times before leaving my house this morning, purely because I was scared to go hiking alone. Anxiety Kelso said: MAYBE YOU SHOULDN'T DO THIS TRAIL BY YOURSELF, THERE COULD BE ROVES OF MURDERERS CAMPING OUT THERE READY TO RAPE YOU. AND BESIDES, YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW THE TRAIL VERY WELL. But I decided to ignore my brain and just go for it. I would be in town, the trail looked more like a nature walk than an actual hike, and it was short enough that I would be back to my car in less than an hour. I didn't feel it was necessary to weigh myself down with a backpack full of things you would typically bring on a hike, medicine, bug spray, snacks, and - oh yeah - water. The only things I carried were my keys, my umbrella, and my cell phone.   You will be fine. I told Anxiety Kelso before heading out onto the trail. Quit being a baby. 

However, there is a fine line between irrational, anxiety thoughts and being safely cautious. Most of the time I am packing at least a water bottle and my epipen, even if I'm taking a short walk down to the store. But on this particular day, I wanted to be blissfully ignorant, I needed my John Muir Fantasy so badly that I was pushing back all thoughts, rational and irrational. I'm getting on that trail and I'm going to find some goddamn happiness. And I did, and I'm happy I went. I had fun going off by myself and letting go of all my everything. When I reached the vista with the breathtaking views of Peanacook Lake, I felt happy to be alive. I sat down in the dirt and meditated with my eyes closed (I had to force them shut since I still felt like someone was going to sneak up on me and stab me in the back) for a few minutes. Nothing but the rain, the view, and the ground. I felt wild, free, recharged, and wonderful.