Notes from the Trail

A reflection for the season | The Rev. Brian Nystrom

Sometimes I go into the wilderness alone, sometimes with others, sometimes for an hour, or a day, or for several days. Each excursion is a gift that I give to myself, a gift of time and movement, a gift that I never regret and gratefully receive. Sometimes I set out with a destination in mind, sometimes I simply saunter to see where the trail will take me and what it will show me. Sometimes I go where there are no trails.

I was fortunate to spend a few days solo in the Winds a couple weeks ago and I followed that trip with a couple days with beloved staff members hiking Crystal Creek in the Gros Ventre. Then we parted ways and I walked out alone. Well, not alone. A yellow lab followed and sometimes led me to the Granite Creek trailhead.

Here’s what I learned in the course of two weeks:

Pack light and take only what you need. Anything that’s not essential will only weigh you down. But, and this is the hardest part, know what you need. You will learn this through trial and error.

Walk lightly, stop often. If you only look at the trail beneath your feet you will miss the grandeur that lies ten feet off trail, or thousands of feet above your head. Pay attention. Don’t trip.

When you travel alone you are never alone. When you travel with others make sure you are with people you love, or at least could love, given the chance. That means anybody.

Conserve your energy but don’t hoard it, you can go farther than you think. It’s a renewable resource, if you have just enough food, plenty of water, and warm, dry place to sleep.

Maps are helpful and can be deceptive. The map is not the terrain, so learn to trust your instincts and be ready to be surprised, often pleasantly, occasionally not so much.

Always yield the trail to the uphill hiker. It’s the same trail but they have the harder path.

Clean up after yourself. You are a visitor here.

When in bear country, walk with a measure of confidence. Ask permission out loud, saying, “Hey Mother Bear, this is your turf. I mean you no harm and I’m grateful you are sharing it with me. Grant me safe passage.” Say it loud, say it often, and carry bear spray in case she doesn’t hear you.

Take care of your feet. Appy Moleskin. They are your friends, treat them nicely.

If you have the opportunity, take a dog.

Peace,

Brian