I walked into the forest with the same feeling of uncertainty that had led me to nearly cancel this solo backpacking trip. I had waffled all week even as I prepped stuff to get ready to go. My foot and knee had inflamed tendons for which I was reentering physical therapy the following Monday and yet here it was, Friday morning, and I’d strapped all twenty-eight pounds of my pack to my back, and was striding away from the trailhead.
I had been saying all week that maybe I shouldn’t go because of my knee and foot, but the day before I was supposed to leave I realized that if I was planning to meet someone, I wouldn’t have canceled. My inflammation wasn’t that bad, and I wouldn’t have scuttled two people’s plans. So I decided I was going to go out that weekend after all and meet myself.
I found my stride, a bit slower than usual, but there was no need to rush. I got a half mile or so down the trail and a feeling of elation came over me. I was exactly where I was supposed to be. I passed a…
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