My biggest adventure yet, a solo (well almost solo) hiking and camping trip in the Adirondacks! Tanner, my dog, accompanied me on this trip so I’m not so sure if it counts as being completely alone but still it’s close enough. When I told people that I was going on a camping trip alone in the woods I was met with mixed responses. Many people just asked me why I would want to do that, some cheered me on, others asked me if it was safe, and a select few told me straight up that I shouldn't go. This was one of the first times in my life where I was really unbothered by what people’s opinions on this matter were. For some reason, I welcomed the judgement and saw it as more the reason to go. Of course, I did have some reservations going in. When I booked the campsite, the thought of me being alone in the woods with the chance of getting killed by a serial killer did arise, but for the most part, I like to say that I believe in the overarching goodness of humanity. That fact aside, I did buy a pocket knife and got carded in doing so (not that I ever think I’d be able to use it if the situation did arise). This adventure was very spontaneous. I booked it only two weeks before hand and did minimal planning. This year, I decided to take off from running competitively for my school. Running had gotten to a point that the anxiety it caused was becoming too overbearing and outweighing the benefits. I wanted to take time off for myself and spend my free time doing things that brought me happiness. One of those things was going on this trip! I realized that there was a very brief window to see all the colors of fall so I knew that if i was going to do this, I needed to do it now. So, in my new found freedom I planned a 3 day hiking and camping trip starting with a short hike in the catskills and then making my way up to Lake Placid in the Adirondacks. My first hike was Overlook Mountain in the Woodstock, New York. It was a 4.6 mile gravel trail with a steep incline. I was very confused when finding the trailhead to this mountain because the beginning was right next to a Buddhist Monastery. It was decorated with rainbow color flags that on this especially windy day were blowing around vigorously and filling the sky with color. The trail was fairly easy, it was only a gravel dirt road so the terrain wasn’t difficult at all, but it was steep. We were immediately swallowed by colors of orange and yellow which decorated the trees. It was exactly what I had came for. Since it was quite early in the morning I had most of the trail going up to myself, which was very peaceful and allowed me to test Tanner’s ability off leash without any distractions (he has a tendency to run away). The overlook at the top was so much better than I was expecting. The forest opened up into a rock cliff that overlooked the plains of Woodstock below us. There was a mixture of green and a few trees beginning to change. Overlook Mountain also had a fire tower. I climbed the 6 story tower and was greeted with a brutally cold wind, which I was very pitifully unprepared for in just shorts and a long sleeve. Tanner and I walked/jogged back down the mountain to attempt to make up some ground for the rest of the drive ahead of us. The campsite I stayed at was in Wilmington NY called the North Pole and was decorated in all things Christmas. I booked a site right on the Ausable River. My goal was to get there at a reasonable hour in the afternoon so I wouldn’t end up setting the tent up in the dark. This is the part of the trip that I was most nervous about. Not that I didn’t think I could set up a tent on my own, I just anticipated a big struggle and for something to inevitably go wrong, knowing my luck. However, I’m proud to say that I set up my tent annnnd built a fire all by myself #independent. However, my biggest struggle of the trip was that my phone refused to hold a charge due to the freezing temperatures #firstworldproblems. Adding to the fact that I didn’t have access to an outlet, my phone held a consistent charge of 7% the entire trip. So that was fun. I ended up sleeping with it off and stuffing it inside my shirt at night to conserve the minimal battery life I had, in order to not be totally stranded on the mountain the next day without any communication to the outside world. Another fun thing that happened that night was as I was cleaning up and getting ready to head in for the night, I put Tanner in the tent to attempt to keep him warm because for some reason he was afraid of the fire. Instead of sitting next to me and warming up, he chose to sit far away in the dark, shivering, and glaring at me. I had turned the lantern on in the tent, so I got a nice visual of tanner’s silhouette tromping around inside. As I was walking over to join him, I got a first hand view of his silhouette lifting up his leg and PEEING ON MY SLEEPING BAG!!! I screamed and ran inside and find out that my worst nightmare was sorrowfully true and he did indeed peed not only my sleeping bag but my pillow as well. Keep in mind, this was the first night. That night temperatures were supposed to drop below freezing so honestly what choice did I have? I threw a blanket over my pillow, flipped my sleeping bag over to the other side, and shrugged it off. I’d take a little dog pee over hypothermia any day. Day two, I hiked Whiteface Mountain, which is actually a mountain that I have skied before. It was a rated as a 10+ mile difficult hike. I started around 9:30 AM and finished around 4:30 PM. I broke this hike into four parts for you. The first chapter was Fall. I walked into a trail exploding of every shade of yellow, orange and red that you could possibly imagine. It was overwhelmingly beautiful but desolately alone. I walked the first few miles without seeing a trace of another human being, which was a little unnerving but not unexpected. Tanner got his fair share of smelling and peeing on every tree and I got a little time to self reflect in peace. The next chapter was Winter. I’m not joking when I say the mountain changed seasons as I climbed higher. It was fairly gradual but very noticeable. In some of the pictures that I took you can see where the shift began to change. Before this I had never witnessed snow on orange leaves before. Beginning with just a slight dusting on all the leaves, the snow was enchanting, however, when my thoughts quickly transitioned from, “aww that’s pretty” to “oh damn this is winter” when we walked into a full on snow storm. Although, temperatures did drop, it was still beautiful. Thankfully, I had packed Tanner a nice winter coat to keep him warm because I was anticipating some snow but definitely not to this extent. Chapter 3: Mud….. Mud everywhere. Freezing cold mud. Quicksand mud. Frozen mud. SO. MUCH. MUD! Since it was so early in the season, the ground wasn’t cold enough for the snow to stick, so it would melt and turn the trail into a straight up mud fest. The trails were very narrow and lined with tall pine trees on both sides, making it difficult to just walk around the puddles. Keep in mind, that these puddles were made of snow so they were extremely cold, especially for tanner’s exposed paws. This was the part of the trip that I felt most unprepared for. Tanner did not enjoy this part either. I think I can easily say he hated it. As the mud started to get deeper, and harder to avoid, Tanner began to get more frustrated. It finally got to a point where he just sat down, stared at me, and refused to continue. However, in doing so he blocked a line of people waiting to continue behind him. I had already crossed this patch so all I could do was stand on the other side and try to coax him along. He wouldn’t budge. The people behind us were laughing and started to join in. Soon everyone started chanting his name and encouraging him along the trail. I was mortified. Eventually he succumbed to the peer pressure and bregudgedly made his way through it. I made sure to give him extra treats after that trauma. Chapter 4: Wind. This is chapter was when Tanner was done with my shit. We had almost reached the summit, in fact I could see it, and we were slowly but surely approaching the top of the treeline. This part was especially rocky and by rocky I don’t mean little gravel rocks, I mean huge boulders, some so big that I had to lift tanner over my head (which neither of us were a fan of). As we approached the top of the treeline, we were suddenly hit with numbing wind that the trees had so generously sheltered us from. Tanner did not enjoy this. To get to the peak, we had to walk along a road for a little bit before beginning the final climb. The wind here was relentless. It was already cold to begin with, but this wind was so incredibly strong it made it hard to stand up straight. All of a sudden, Tanner ran off to the side of the road, back down into the trees, and started digging. I thought to myself, “For real? You’re really going to do this now? What could you possibly smell?”. Then to my surprise in the hole that he dug for himself, he laid down and tried to bury himself with dirt. That’s when it hit me that he had enough. We were so close that I could see where the final climb was. A sign next to me read that we were at 4,999 ft and I knew the mountain was only slightly over 5,000. I looked around and the snow was heavily coming down around us. I couldn’t see farther than 50ft ahead of me so I knew that when I actually got to the top, there wouldn’t be much of a view anyway. I took another look at Tanner, who was ready to bury himself on that mountain and decided that yep, this was probably as far as we were going to go. I went over to him and cuddled him for a few minutes trying to warm him back up and then started the decent back down. The hardest part of this hike for me wasn’t any of the elements but the mental fortitude it took to keep climbing. On my way up, every time I would think that I was almost there, another hour would go by. This processed happened four times (just do the math on that). At one point I broke down and asked someone if we were close to the top and he gave me this horrifyingly pitiful look and told me I still had a few more miles to go. That hurt. But once I FINALLY made it back to the parking lot it was all worth it. I blasted the heat for Tanner and spent the rest of the day chilling by the fire. I used the app “All Trails” to pick out all the hikes I was going on. It showed me how many miles each one was, their level of difficulty, and even provided pictures from the summits. So naturally, I gravitated toward the most scenic ones. For my last and final day I chose a much shorter hike for a number of reasons. A.) I had to drive 6+ hours home that day and B.) my legs still ached so much from the day before I barely was able sleep that night. The winner was Hurricane Mountain. I woke up before dawn and packed up my tent in the dark because I knew I wasn’t going to be back for check out time. I arrived at the trailhead at 7 AM. This was a much easier trail than the day before. It started out very flat and it was a lot warmer to start out. Like all the others, the trees were exploding with colors. I really tried to take it all in knowing I’d have to go back to a much less vibrant state. There was some mud but definitely not as bad as the day before as well. This trail followed a creek which inevitably meant that we had to cross it a some point. Tanner was not a fan. I guess he was traumatized from the mud the day before and refused to get his paws wet. Except this time, the rocks were big enough for him to walk across, so clearly he was just choosing to be dramatic. The coaxing tactic proved unsuccessful because I didn’t have the cheer team of yesterday; so he just sat down across the creek and stared at me, his favorite move. However, today I came armed with a new ploy of my own. This time I was equipped with a pack of beef jerky, which would shortly become his new found love. To get him to cross, I placed a piece of beef jerky on each individual rock that he needed to step on to cross. It worked. I continued this tactic multiple times up the mountain. The summit of the mountain was exposed rock which made the wind all the more merciless. I again had to encourage Tanner along by dropping pieces of beef jerky behind me to ensure that he’d follow me and not tuck tail down back down the mountain. I climbed two flights up the fire tower and turned right back around because I was afraid of being blown right off the mountain. I later learned that it was called ‘Hurricane Mountain’ because of the extreme hurricane like winds at the summit. Despite the crazy and slightly unbearable windchill, there was a 360 view at the top which made all the windburn worth it. We were blessed with a clear blue sky day which offered spectacular views of all the surrounding mountains. Maybe it’s just me but when I look at a horizon of mountains it always reminds me of a blanket stretching across earth. Each mountain resembled a ripple in the cloth as it touched the ground. I wish I could have stayed up there longer and really gotten to take it all in, but Tanner became so fed up with the wind that he started to climb back down without me! I spent the rest of that morning as a tourist around Lake Placid, walking passed the Olympic Training center which is in the heart of the down town, buying way too many overpriced stickers, jams, and miscellaneous and unneeded souvenirs. It’s such a cute and quaint little town and was very popular this time of year. I definitely could see myself coming back next year to attempt Marcy, the highest peak of the Adirondacks. As I had mentioned multiple times already the fall colors were so vibrant my heart was overwhelmed. To get back and forth from Lake Placid and many of the hiking trails, I had to drive down the Scenic Byway, which is the prettiest road I have ever been on. It cut straight through the mountains and offered scenic views of lakes and rocky cliffs. I had to stop my car every 5 seconds to take pictures of the landscape, but of course they never did it justice. I ended my trip with a stop at my Grandma’s house which is just outside of Albany in a town called Mechanicville, NY, got my fill of homemade mac n cheese and headed back to NJ. I learned a lot about myself on this trip. For instance, not to underestimate my abilities. I am in fact quite capable and shouldn’t doubt what I can accomplish on my own. I learned that you should never underestimate the power of beef jerky, the cold, or my mental fortitude. I left this trip feeling so much pride in myself and honestly what is a better feeling than that? I already started planning my next adventure. You can catch Tanner and I hiking Cascade Mountain in Acadia National Park on New Year’s Day to be the first people (and dog) to see the sunrise in the US this 2019. We’ll be throwing in a few hikes in New Hampshire and Maine along the way. Overall, I’d definitely recommend going on a solo adventure, whatever that adventure would entail. It doesn’t have to be a hiking or camping trip, just doing something completely alone. Putting your independence and capabilities to the test was extremely rewarding for me and I left with more confidence in who I am and with more love for myself. So I can definitely say, the windburn, mud, and pee in my sleeping bag was 1000% worth it.
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The Instagram Reality
It’s no surprise that we live in the age of social media. It’s everywhere. Forget dunkin, America runs off instagram, snapchat, twitter, you name it. We’ve traded in our morning newspapers for cat videos, walmart yodelers, and Trump memes. Take a walk through a college campus and you run the risk of being trampled by hoards of obvious students with their eyes in their phone. There’s no small talk in waiting rooms, no chats on the bus, just heads lost in mobile devices. Now what is all this buzz about? What is so intoxicating about these social media apps? I’m no scientist, I’m just a regular college student, who really shouldn’t be making all these presumptuous accusations because I’ll probably be the one running into you in the hallway, watching what exactly? I really couldn't tell you, probably laughing at a video of a dog. The reality of it is though, I waste hours doing this, hours that could be spent socializing, actually doing my schoolwork, reading, doing self care (what’s that??), who knows, I could maybe actually finish reading Gone with the Wind (which I have been on page 547 for two months). The point is I am wasting so much valuable time pointlessly over exercising my thumb muscles. But that’s not even the worst part. There are many pros and cons of social media. Blah blah blah, I’m sure you’ve heard this speal before. Yes it connects to loved ones and others who are far away. It allows a community like Strong Runner Chicks to exist (a very high pro) but at the same time it opens up a whole new dimension for us to criticize ourselves. Even before social media existed, we didn’t exactly walk out the door and tell our neighbors that we were seeking therapy because we are depressed. For the most part, we just don’t talk about things like that. We are the “fake till ya make it” species. Forever glueing masks of perfect white teeth, spotless complexions, and store bought happiness, we hide behind makeup and island vacation pictures. Trying to convince both the world and ourselves that we’re happier than you. Then there’s this new trend of making not just one picture trendy and hip, but contorting our entire profile to be as “aesthetically pleasing” as possible. Becoming even more picky with pictures we choose to post because now they have to fit the “aesthetic” of our entire page. We are forever trying to create this perception of ourselves in the eyes of others. Posting, doing, and saying things in a way of exactly how we want others to view us. I was taken aback the other day, when I was talking to a boy that I thought was cute (lol). I wanted him to see me as this fun and happy go lucky girl. I quickly began to notice my mannerisms start to change. Just in this one conversation I was acting completely different from my normal self. I was transforming myself into the impression of the girl I thought he wanted. Thinking, “If I can just come across as this type of girl, he’s going to like me”. I left the conversation, frustrated. I didn’t do anything embarrassing or ridiculous, it was just that I thought that who I was already wasn’t good enough for him and somehow if I acted like someone else, he would like me. When I was thinking about this more, I really started to question how often I did or said certain things to come across as a particular way. How often I post specific pictures to seem like “the beach girl” or the “nature girl”. There have been some occasions where I book a trip, with the thought in mind of “how good this picture is going to look on instagram”. How sick is that? I get lost in how I want others to see me and literally change who I am to fit the mold of how I want to portray myself. When in reality that wasn't me at all. That boy would have eventually figured out that the girl I was acting like wasn't the girl actually in front of him. But why is it so important to make our lives “aesthetically pleasing”? Why can’t we unapologetically be ourselves? The reality is, no one is asking you to be a certain way, except yourself. If you spend hours upon hours scrolling through the lives of these so called “perfect people” you can’t help but notice the difference between your profile and theirs, but have you thought about how they've contorted their own profile to fit the image of how they want you to see them? It’s all this endless cycle. The only way to get out is to log off. Actually take a trip without the intention of posting about it later. Talk to a guy without trying to be someone else. Do things for yourself and not for anyone else. It’s not rocket science, but when this is something that we’ve practiced since puberty, it’s something very unnatural. However, just with anything in life, practice makes perfect (or not actually perfect because we don’t believe in that word- but you get what I’m saying). Just be yourself girl. The only thing perfect in this world is the perfection in the uniqueness in which you were created. Own who you are and don’t hide it. Break the aesthetic, shake things up, be different, be you. When we feel too much……….
What are emotions exactly? Does everyone experience them in the same way? Why do some people cry and others just “shake it off”? Does that mean we both aren’t in pain? Is there a spectrum to how we endure our suffering? Is each person’s anguish created equal? Is it possible to ‘feel too much’? I don’t know about you but I’ve always known I was an over-emotional girl (or at least that’s what others told me, so naturally I believed it). I knew that I felt things at more significant level than any of my friends. SPOILER ALERT- I mean I cried for a week straight when I read that Dumbledore died. I knew this wasn’t necessarily ‘normal’, yet back then I also really didn't care. However, as I started to get older and the world began to offer me more bruises and scars than just a death of a character in my favorite book, I began to become aware of how strongly things affected me. “Sensitive” is what people call it. Sensitive and weak is what I called myself. I wasn’t the kind of person to cry in public, that was exhibiting too much weakness for me. Instead, I mastered the art of internalizing my pain. For instance, internalizing it in my eating disorder. I quickly learned to internalize everything. Now, I didn’t have a life that out of the ordinary. I haven’t suffered a crazy trauma. I haven’t endured any traumatic physical injuries. Just the basic ‘growing pains’, I guess you could call it. I was a typical teenager, who suffered from heartbreak, the end of friendships, a parent’s divorce, struggling grades, you get the picture. Yet why did each impact hit me like a tractor trailer going 70 miles an hour? Why did each event blow me so far off course that I would be left recovering years later? What happens when you feel too much? I’m writing this not really sure of the answer. Why do I feel things on such a stronger level than others? When the normal recovery time is a month, why does it take me a year? Why do I allow myself to suffer that long? I really don’t know. I see people who are so resilient. They get right back on the horse after a traumatic event, while I am left struggling in the mud months later. Yes, I always end up getting up and riding again, it just takes me a lot longer than others. The pain overstays its welcome, but I am the one who opens the door. I constantly find myself reopening scars, for what? I’m like a child picking at an old scab, unable to let go of the past. How does the past have so much power over me? I think part of it stems from my inability to let things go. I forgive, but I struggle with the forgetting part. My past takes a toll on me. I don’t believe that our suffering is created equal but I also don’t believe that it’s a weakness. My emotional rollercoaster moves a lot slower than yours but that doesn't make it any less of a thrilling ride. I am really present for every up and every down and because of this, don’t allow life to slip through my fingers. I appreciate the long trudges through the mud because they allow me to recognize how extraordinary the ride was before and how it will be just the same after. There’s a danger in forgetting. It creates the potential for you to make the same mistakes over again. It’s important to remember your pain and not forget your past or where you’ve come from. Learning from your mistakes is what is going to build your fortitude and in the end it’s going to be the thing to protect your heart. I don’t see my pain as a weakness. Because I feel so much pain, I am also able to feel so much love. My heart has extra room for love to fill in. So no, I don’t see it as a weakness at all, I see it as my strength. |
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