The day I met Pokhara Pete.

“I wish to pray for the passage of her soul as it rises to the radiant lights” – Pokhara Pete.

I had started my 18 day trek with 3 Nepali guy friends from Bhaktapur, after reaching our goal of Lake Tilicho they continued back the same route and I headed over Throng La Pass to complete the remainder of the Annapurna Circuit.  I had met Anja and Flo, two independent hikers, German and French, and we all decided to make a quick trek up and finish our journey with South Annapurna Basecamp (ABC).  On our way back down we crossed the main highway which most choose to end their trek by jumping on a crowded bus or jeep and riding back to Pokhara but not us! So we snaked our way down a less than traditional route by navigating small, un-mapped mountain trails and old washed out, overgrown roads until finally we came to rest our eyes on the little villages dotting the edges of the Seti River which feeds into Phewa Lake, the second largest lake in Nepal.

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Views of the Seti River as we came down into Pokhara Valley from the West

As long as the path stayed in the downward direction and remained heading east we trekked on hungry and ready for a lakeside community to gobble us up.  We walked through a few small villages where cars and buses could be seen and heard again.  We were surprised to find none of the places were open to serve us any food and here we had put off eating far too long and were just about on empty when we came into Pame, the village just a mile from Pokhara.  Flo was waving his arms out of the doorway of a place in complete celebration that he found us a Nepali woman who would cook us dal bhat and even tracked down some warm beers too.  We were officially done with the mountain trekking through the Annapurna Range.  After eating what I will call the worst dal bhat of the 3 months in Nepal we finished the walk to Pokhara alongside the lake.

 

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Our first views of Phewa Lake in Pokhara

Anja and I found the best little guesthouse tucked along the shore in what they refer to as ‘The Lakeside’ portion of Pokhara.  Although the city is one of the largest in the country this small quaint area along the water would never convince you of that.  The vibe is all about island time with tie-dye fabrics, hemp-made clothing and reggae music playing at the greasy little diners lined along the streets.

Our room at the guest house overlooked the lake and had been run by the same family for over 30 years for $6.00 a night. It had an attached bathroom, was safe and clean with a hot-‘ish’ shower depending on the time of day and if there was any sun since it was a direct sun-heated black tub on the roof rather than electric or gas water heater.  We said our goodbyes to Flo and exchanged information as he was rejoining his girlfriend waiting for him at a different guesthouse in Pokhara.

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Flo, Anja and I finishing up our trek together of Annapurna South Basecamp

Fresh Veggie Salad, followed by pizza and desser.....what no dal bhat!!
Fresh Veggie Salad, followed by pizza and dessert…..what no dal bhat!!

After the most refreshing fresh salad, a slice of amazing thin crust pizza and a ridiculously good brownie and ice cream dessert at ‘Godfathers Pizza’, which I highly recommend, we found ourselves walking the lakeside taking in the local sounds echoing across the lake.

We were drawn to the live music coming from a group of younger Nepali guys sitting at a really tiny tiki bar/hut with short little bamboo couches and a thatched floor overlooking the water.  They were playing all sorts of American covers and some memorable Nepali pop songs.  With no one else in sight we sat down and ordered a beer to enjoy the ambiance all to ourselves.  We met the guys and I only remember the one’s name, Bsan because I came to know him a bit better after taking a motorcycle ride later in my Pokhara stay.  That lovely ride resulted in my falling off the back of the bike on a steep, sharp corner heading down from seeing the World Peace Stuppa… another story for later.

That night the guys told us about a place to enjoy more music, beer and a game of pool called, ‘The Old Blues Bar’.  So, we conceded to following them and found ourselves playing a game of pool (on a snooker table) and having a beer.  I was sitting down at the table talking to Anja when a man who looked to be in his 60’s sat down at the bar close to our table.  He didn’t look to be all that healthy with a spindly and frail frame; he was at least 5’10”, thin and bony with a withdrawn look about him.  What made his sad appearance even more prominent was the deep set in look of confusion and pain all wrapped up into the furrowed skin between his eyes and sagging skin of his cheeks that drooped down near his jawline.  I have been told throughout my life that I am a very ’empathetic’ person,  I find myself wanting to get right down to the rawness and depth of a person rather than spend a lot of time on the surface level conversation.  This has also come to serve as a way to take the attention off of my own pain and problems and feel purposeful in letting someone vent and experience their own feelings while I tuck mine away for a bit.

 So, naturally, I felt the urge to motion the man over with a hand gesture and eye contact.  He stood up, stepped near and responded by saying, “I suppose I could join you but I’m not much for good company”. I was intrigued at that point by his simple response that begged the question of “Why?”  Anja and I introduced ourselves and he did the same telling us his name was Pete and then proceeding to say, “I just found out that my sister died”.  I think my heart actually dropped in my chest as I felt the instant depth of his sorrow no longer kept inside but a wound open and fresh on the outside.  Within hours he had heard that his closest sister, Sue, had died suddenly from a heart attack back in Australia where he was originally from.  He was distressed and in a state of numbness as he proceeded to explain she died on Friday the 13th of Nov. it had already been 5 days and due to some email issues he had only just found out via email from his family that day. The most difficult thing at the moment was that he would not be able to fly back home, to Australia, in time for her funeral. He would be leaving the following day and had his flight booked, so there he sat just feeling through one of the most painful things he would experience in life, the death of a sister, sitting at a bar with strangers.
He spent some time talking about her heart and soul and spirit, who she was and how she mattered to him. She was his oldest sister at 69 and he was 58, he had 3 other sisters and was just wanting to come up with the words to have his family say on his behalf at the funeral he wouldn’t make.  I offered to write down his words and feelings for him as he jumped from thought to thought and what he described next was a beautiful summary of what he wished, “I wish to pray for the passage of her soul as it rises to the radiant lights”.   He had said that when he closed his eyes this was what he saw and he wasn’t too sure what he believed when it came to God or other religions but he believed her spirit was truly beautiful and that he could visualize her rising up into the bright light above.  The whole night was quite touching to me as he proceeded to talk about how he also lost a best friend, Jeff, to suicide only a few years ago.  For those of you reading this who don’t know I also in the recent years lost 2 very close loved ones, my aunt Carrie to lung cancer at 54 yrs old and my brother-in-law, Jeff, at 43 yrs old to suicide.  We ended that night sitting by the lake on a piece of driftwood with a glass of wine and laughing about some truly beautiful and joyful moments and memories we carried of our loved ones.

Losing loved ones brought our hearts together on that night. The most spiritual and touching of moments are right under our noses wherever we are in life and it amazes me who and what walks in the door when I open it to those around me.  I am saying a prayer for Pokhara Pete today in hopes that he made it safely back home where he could be of comfort to his family and feel the comfort of his family that he needed. We are all in need of others during our life to listen, to express, to feel and share the joy and the sorrow of life’s amazing journey. The best advise I can give after this experience is to keep your heart open to others and their stories and moments of connection because you may not always see the opportunities to help or be a light for someone else if you are too busy looking down at your own stumbling feet.  Pete said he was grateful and felt truly blessed to have met me at that moment and been allowed to share feelings and tears when he otherwise would not have expressed himself so openly to others before. I am glad for that night and will remember it forever.

 

No Money, No Petro, No Phone – No Problem when you have Nepali family with hearts as big the mountains that surround you!


I arrived in Tatopani with my injuries from the waterfall plunge as a great reason to spend a day recovering. The 3 guys I had traveled with from Kathmandu got up and after buying me breakfast to say goodbye they headed towards Pokhara via bus.  I happily found some comfort in the room for awhile, writing, napping and thinking about my next plan before venturing out to soak in a hot springs. They were beautiful for the body, extremely hot, but the setting wasn’t nearly as scenic as a second place I came to find on my Annapurna Basecamp route in Jhinu Danda.

I was eating my dinner looking out on the road and I saw Anja hiking up, the smiling German gal I ran into briefly the day before while walking. We chatted and had a laugh about how she had watched me ‘disappear’ onto that fateful bus when I decided to jump on with my Nepali friends. Her French friend arrived behind her and they went to find some cheaper options to stay but I knew we would cross paths if I decided to head towards Annapurna Basecamp in the morning as that was her plan.

I left Tatopani the following morning feeling a bit irresponsible and anxious after having come face to face with nearly running out of money. After paying the hotel I was down to less than 800 rupees ($8) because I hadn’t planned on trekking over the pass and continuing my journey so my only real option at getting cash would be to get on a bus to Beni in the opposite direction as ABC and Ghorepani. It’s funny I left the hotel without making a decision on what I was doing and started to walk. Within a 1/2 kilometer I came to the important junction of a footbridge leading East into the valley toward Ghorepani or the road leading South to Beni. I sat down on a rock and called Shree, unsure of anyone else that could truly aide me in my financial dilemma in the middle of the Annapurna Region. He immediately answered, a good sign to start, and continued to respond to my emotional indecisiveness by saying, “keep going Ang Dolma Sherpa (my nickname from our Everest Region Trek), you’re there now and makes no sense to not see ABC”. He said you have to make it to Ghorepani that night and seek out Sunny Guesthouse, there you can speak with the woman who runs the hotel and call him and he would get the money in my hands. My problem was resolved and I instantly had the freedom once again to continue on in the direction I most wanted to go, Annapurna Basecamp.

That day was one of the most relaxing and beautiful of the trek so far. The landscape was terraced hillsides and the daily life of the Nepalese people was ever-present during harvest season. It was constant activity in all of the bustling villages far removed from from tourism in nearly every sense. The men could be seen and heard up on the terraced mountainsides, pushing, pulling, prodding, shouting, grunting and whistling at their bulls churning up the earth with their handmade plows.

Woman could be seen in nearly every home outside on the stone patios beating huge piles of grain with long sticks of bamboo all in unison. They were all talking loudly, laughing and rarely noticed a passing white face walking along and stopping to snap a picture. Some woman use these big hand woven sifting trays, standing to sift like basically tossing something in a fry pan. A more modern approach was a boy using a rudimentary foot-pedaled machine to power a belt that would rotate large beat up metal blades of a fan. His mother stood in front and tossed the grains from the woven tray while the dusty light outer shells blew off and heavier desirable grains fell to the ground in little heaps at her feet.

Little ones were getting bathed outside their with big basins of soapy water where clothes were also being laundered and laid out to dry all across the stone walls and grassy hills. The woman bath outside as well with sarongs around them pouring cold water over there upside down heads of hair and attempting to scrub up awckwardly underneath the sarong. At first it all seems like such a pain but you come to realize after days and weeks of seeing it all over and over that they aren’t looking for better, faster, easier ways to do things all the time. They have a routine in their chores and activities and the time they need to do these things remains the same. Food is on the table, rest is found at night and joy is seen in the everyday activity. There is not this pressure to do something faster or better when what you get from your current pace is all that you need. It’s definitely a healthy thing to witness coming from the culture of bigger, better, faster, more product, less time, quantity, quantity and more quantity.

A man was sitting cross- legged on the ground using an old hand-crank sewing machine, stitching up clothes in the sun while his older daughter chitter-chattered away at him.

sewing

It was really the first time I can say I didn’t see any needs or reliance on the tourism to keep the villagers busy in their daily lives. I stopped at one point to take the huge cephalopod fossil out of my pack and leave it behind on a rock wall. There was a little girl and boy on the wall standing over me saying, “sweets”, “picture”, “chocolate” and I smiled and said no sweets but I have this present for you…..and pulled the huge fossil from the bottom of my pack. I don’t think they were very enthused about my gift and it will likely stay there for years without any notice that it’s a fossil from the riverbank 50 kilometers away and hundreds of meters below us!!

Further along in my walk I stopped to have some soup for lunch and looked down to see this message on my phone that said ‘Locked SIM’. I asked a local Nepali guide at the teahouse if I could use his phone to contact Shree once again for help!  I needed to see if there was anyway he could find out my PUK number required to unlock the SIM.  All I could think was thankfully this happened after I was able to contact him about money earlier in the day or I may have been ‘bussing’ to Beni after all.  I was shit out of luck unless Shree managed to find the code or get me a new SIM card.  I had reached a point in my journey where I had no money or cell phone service. If it weren’t for my Nepali brothers back in Bhaktapur I would have had to scrap the trip much sooner. He didn’t have the PUK number I later found out and my old number was history but he said he may be able to get me a SIM card in the middle of the ABC trek when I crossed paths with one of the iTrek Nepal guides coming back with a client so we left it at that and I remained without a cell phone in hopes of wi-fi to keep in touch as needed. I’ve been off the radar for longer periods of time that’s for sure.

I continued along toward Ghorepani. I was walking along and starting to climb some more ‘lovely’ steps when a little girl and her dog came running down one of the hills next to the trail and she quietly just looked at me and began walking along beside me.  I pointed ahead and said “Ghorepani”, she said “yes” and I attempted to ask her what village she was from but regardless of how simple I tried to speak she just looked at me and nodded smiling.  Cute as a button, she carried her little purse with a long strap on her head like all the porters carry their loads and baskets around the villages.  She proceeded to run up the endless rock steps stopping and looking and waiting for me just like she was out for a walk herself and enjoyed the company.  Her dog went in front of us just a few meters at all times.  She couldn’t have been more than 5 or 6.  It’s amazing the freedom all these little ones seem to run about with, on some very steep and dangerous cliffs and ridges. It was like her home was in the middle of the wilderness where we were walking and it brings a whole new perspective to what their ‘neighborhoods’ and ‘boundaries’ are when it comes to playing in the woods and walking with strangers to and from nearby villages.  I thought I was wild and free as a child but seeing her just run up and down the mountain trails with her dog really brought a smile to my heart.  A little girl and her dog playing in the wilderness, I could relate to that from my own childhood.

 

After coming up to the next village the little girl did stop trailing along and I came upon a guest house up in the woods and saw a familiar face, it was Anja. We were only a few hours from Ghorepani and she was hiking with a different French guy, Flo, whom she also ran into earlier in her hike when he was with his girlfriend.  He was going to head up to ABC as well so that night we all ended up in Ghorepani, he happened to still get be with his guide and they were also staying at the Sunny Guesthouse which is where we all landed.  I managed to do just what Shree had instructed and the woman from the hotel got on the phone with Shree and 1/2 hour later I had money in hand and he was transferring funds to her bank account. I was a happy trekker among new friends and ready to finish my journey up to Annapurna Basecamp thanks to the beautiful people of this beautiful country.

ghorepani

 

 

Wisconsin disappeared on a bus…..15 drunk Czech’s and a Waterfall later…

 

Wisconsin disappeared on a bus

 

Bus ride to Tatopani

I met Anya for the first time while passing she and her French friend, Javier, taking a rest by a large rock enor ute to Tatopani from Jomsom.  I spoke a few words to them in passing regarding my trek and didn’t stop at that time to make much conversation.  She laughs now about the next hour or so of the walk as they were behind me in the distance watching my decision to hop on a bus.  The journal entry she showed me from that day was something like, ‘Wisconsin disappeared on the bus’.

I had lost the 3 Nepali guys earlier in the day in a little village that I think I decided to walk through rather than around so they were not with me at the time and I had waited sometime for them to walk up at one point so I didn’t know if they were in front or behind me anymore.  So I came to a large bend in the road where the riverbed seemed to widen and instead of taking the road around the entire edge of the river that we were following I opted to traverse the riverbed across and avoid some unnecessary road.  It worked as I had watched, while I stopped to squat and pee before crossing, some local farmers with their water buffalos snake their way across the rocky open span of land.  So I managed to hop, skip and jump over the water, using a little homemade log bridge at one point, and then I heard the sound of a vehicle and looked back to see a bus rounding the bend.  It was the only bus seen yet in the day coming my direction so I gauged my pace and quickened up my steps to make it to the other side of the riverbed and onto the road just in time.  I raised a trekking pole and the bus came to stop in front of me and one of the 3 Nepali guys I was walking with stuck his head out and without a word I jumped on and was whisked away.

The bus stopped for everyone to unload and have some tea, bathroom breaks and the guys got some sort of curry in a little dishes that I gladly took.  Then back on the bus I was squeezed next to a drunk man in his 30’s or 40’s maybe, he kept elbowing me, smiling big and dancing with his arms to the Nepali folk music playing loudly in the background.  One more stop for the 2 or 3 tourists including me to check in at a TIMS check point (Trekking Information Management System). Everyone has permits when trekking in various regions and these are checkpoints for you to have your permit stamped and then your next intended destination documented in a ledger in case of any emergency so that you can be back-tracked so to speak.  Last stop for that bus was short of Tatopani – due to the petro shortage the buses don’t just keep going because they literally don’t have enough fuel and we needed to hope for another bus with fuel and enough passengers to go the last stretch.  I immediately noticed a large group of foreigners seemingly having a great time standing and sitting around a table in the open dusty ground of this ‘bus stop’ where there are a few little shops that serve food and beer.  The group was 15 Czech’s and their 8 guides and porters waiting for their privately hired bus to arrive and proceeding to get drunk on Kukri rum and Tuborg beer.  I asked about their plans and they indicated they had ordered a bus and laughed about it maybe showing up…so they were just whooping it up, chasing ducks and I was happy to be welcomed immediately to the group by being offered a coke bottle with straight rum in it to have a toast.

I told my Nepali mates they needed to talk to the guide(s) because we could get on the bus with them and just needed to know how much they would want to charge us to tag along.  In the end the bus arrived and we all piled on  – packs on top and booze inside for an adventurous ride.  The bus had colorful yarn macrame hanging down all around the front of it.  I found it to be full of dust as it rained down on my head every time we swayed and bounced which is every 3 seconds!!  The singing started immediately from the Czech’s and continued endlessly back and forth in a battle between the Czech’s and then the Nepali’s each singing their own traditional songs, anthems and cheers.  I sat as the single American foreigner humming, laughing, gasping every so often at the crazy driving on the edge of the mountain and appreciating my company of a bus full of cheer the whole 4 hour ride.

We stopped to ‘pile’ out of the bus at one point and see a waterfall on the side of the road and I went out with the Nepali guys to get some pictures.  I handed my phone to Hari, one of the 3 I was traveling with, to take a picture of mhe.  I njstepped down on the rocks to get closer to the spraying water and that’s when my 1st of 9 lives in Nepal was used up.  Suddenly my foot slipped and I careened head first into a deep crevice of rocks that was being beaten by the forceful water falling from above.  I hit my head so hard, that was the first thing that smacked against the rocks, and immediately was aware of this loud and chaotic force pinning me upside down.  I just remember thinking long enough about being upside down and not having the ability to right myself and no concept of where my arms or even the rest of my body really was – I was simply conscious of my head being where it was and I think my only option was to move my head in a way that I could find air amidst the heavy weight of water in my face.

Thank God within only seconds Hari had thrown my phone and jumped down to grab me by my arm and leg and pulled me up onto the rocky ledge I started on.  I didn’t have time to even think about how I was going to get out on my own before I felt his hands dragging me out.  I immediately came to feeling like I needed to regain control of the situation and saw my purple jacket down in the rocks which I was able to stoop over and get myself, thankfully I had my go pro on my wrist (the selfie stick) because it came back up with me.  The first thing Hari said to me while looking me over head to toe and staring into my eyes was something like ‘and this is why I am never leaving your side’.  I felt protected at that moment and I understood the feeling of having someone next to you in a moment of crisis when you aren’t able to get out of something by yourself and you have no control.  I went back to the bus where the Nepali guys had all heard quickly what happened among themselves and were all worried and making sure I was ok. I felt stupid at that moment just feeling the need to stay in control and find my pack on the top of the bus, none of them were happy when I jumped on the ladder myself and climbed up before they could stop me, so that I could get my dry clothes out and change.  I walked down a little path so I could get out of sight to change and it felt like I had 10 Nepali watchdogs that wanted to stay next to me the whole time.

I was lucky I came out of it all with a big goose egg on my head and only bruised legs and arms, that night after we got into Tatopani the guys made it a point to check on me in the evening as I could have a minor concussion and didn’t want to be left alone to sleep all day the next day or anything.  They were so good about everything and Hari especially really has continued to check on me as I haven’t returned to Kathmandu yet and I owe him a nice meal at least after saving me from dying in a waterfall in the Himalayas.

Bus Ride on a Cliff side

 

Pre-waterfalling….

 

Namche to Dhole

Our weather was superb for the entire 15 day trek in the Everest Region and now that we have landed in town for a bit I can catch up on the daily trekking diary!  We left from Namche Bazaar (Rick, Grayson, Shree and myself) on October 4th continuing to see the craziest of weighted down porters who carry absolutely everything including appliances/building materials and even the kitchen sink – literally.  There are weight limits for the tourist porters and you will see even the day packs of some of these hikers outweigh my main pack.  Porters get paid apx. 80 cents to 1$ per kilo which is equivalent to 2.2lbs. The tourism porters have maximum weight of apx. 35 kilos and the local porters have no limits and seem to always have at least 70+ kilos and can be as young as 10 or 12.  Most are men and boys but you will see some woman carrying items from village to village but usually they are gathering yak dung and plants/food and they are not doing it for money only their own needs.  Leaving our lunch spot in Mongo a young girl (16 at the most) left with us carrying 80lbs of rice to stock the teahouse up in Dhole that her family also owns. She hiked just as fast as we did carrying her load from a strap on her head which is how they all carry their loads.  We had lunch in Mongo where Grayson and Rick took small naps and we are at the front of the high trekking season and the route we are taking is not a common one – many would choose this second over the EBC hike and not see this Gokyo Valley – they are missing out – even Rick who has seen much of this range is really blown away by the beauty all the way.

We hiked on to Dhole at 4200m feeling no pain or issues from the altitude. Shree is a bit slower but doing well he is most worried for himself going over the Renjo La Pass but we have no worries about his ability to do it.  It’s nice being on a trek that no one has been on so it’s all new beauty for us all. We had dinner at our teahouse after having some serious wi-fi discussion and attempts with the owner who in the end couldn’t get it to work – Grayson and I shared a room while Rick and Shree shared a room. We played some Eukre after teaching Grayson and Shree, we had bought cards in Namche. We were also promised a nice warm fire when the woman told us to stay at her teahouse and that turned into quite the pitiful fire but all of us were ready for bed at 8:30 anyway – hiker midnight comes early! It will continue to get colder in the evenings at altitude – during the day I am hiking in t-shirt still. Shree and Grayson seem a bit colder blooded used to warmer weather hats and gloves and long sleeves even to sleep. The best tea comes one after another around here (lemon/black/ginger among others) however we scored on finding hot chocolate and Oreos last night which was like nirvana in a cup!! Mmm onto the next day in the mountains!

One Adventure Leads to the Next……..onto Nepal

Gearing up for a Himalayan adventure…. On Sept. 23rd, 2015 I board a plane headed to Kathmandu, Nepal with my trusty 55L Osprey backpack filled with the few items I deem necessary for survival.  My adventure actually evolved from a 2011 thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail where I met and became friends with Rick Nooft and from there the story continues to grow and take shape.  A few of us met while hiking through the great state of Maine, summiting Mount Katahdin together and creating some forever trail friendships along the way.  In April of this year Rick was doing a trek to the basecamp of Everest when the earthquake struck and turned his trek into a very real and immediate relief effort.  I will be volunteering for his newly organized a charity called the New Hope Society USA http://www.newhopesocietyusa.com, a 501c3 here in the U.S. created to continue to support the New Hope Society founded in Nepal by Shree Prasad Koju http://thenewhopesociety.org. The combined mission is to provide support and relief to the villages devastated by the recent earthquakes and with the support and network of people in Nepal Rick has come to know I am proud to be a part of the volunteer efforts.  I have decided that the most rewarding and authentic way that I can help is by traveling to Nepal and putting my hands and heart to work on projects they have already started and continue to manage.

The Nepal earthquakes which struck in April and May of this year killed over 9,000 people and injured/displaced tens of thousands.  The opportunity and choice in going to Nepal is simply an example of how one decision in life involving travel and adventure can certainly lead into another which will bring an even greater sense of accomplishment through giving back.  So many fellow friends and family members aren’t able to go out and experience such a meaningful rewarding trip to the other side of the world and it is my intention to share the joy, pain, truth and honesty about my own experience while taking such a life-changing direction.  I resigned from from a comfortable salary and benefits working in the financial industry just a few short weeks ago, have packed all of my material possessions into a storage unit and purchased a 1-way ticket to Kathmandu, Nepal with the intention of giving because I feel capable and willing.  This choice is not for everyone and I am thankful for that because somewhere in all of us is a want to live life a little different from the rest and to describe our own version of a ‘successful’ life.

I will be posting as much as possible amidst my 90+/- days of trekking and the plan is quite open to change and evolve based on the people and places I encounter.  My posts are going to be at the discretion of my heart and relative to the thoughts and emotions that travel is evoking in my own life.  I am not sure what tomorrow will bring but I know I want to remain authentic and directed more by my experiences and not by what people want to see or hear.  Death and divorce in particular have brought me to this present place in life where I haven’t been able to shake the bigger questions about who I am and what I am living for.  Fear of rejection, not being liked and having to defend one’s choices can keep you from fulfilling some of the most rewarding and positive dreams.  The first thing I had to come to terms with before writing my first post on my very own travel blog was that another’s acceptance (or lack of) is unnecessary to continue forward on my journey and I can share from a place of enjoyment and empathy for others.  My way is no better, no easier, no more difficult than that of any other and it takes all kinds to keep this world moving forward.

I am ‘making’ this time for myself and I do not believe you have to be rich or lucky to do what I am doing.  You have to be willing to fail miserably and do your best to use both the blessings and hardships to shape and nurture the inevitable growth we have in our human experience.  I want to embrace each day as it comes, the beauty of the outdoors and the beautiful people around every new corner.  I hope to encourage others to travel, to search, to dig deeper into the meaning behind what drives you, what makes you want to wake up and be YOU.  Happiness isn’t one size fits all – it’s an individual experience that we each get to call our own.  I hope you find something of value in following along as I continue to share my adventures with you. Take what you’de like and leave the rest for another!

Happy Hiking – Lady M