My birthday outing at the end of August did not go as planned, but that’s what life consists of — plans B, C, or Z. As I hiked, I thought, “And THEN…” thinking up possible themes for another blog about change. I could write about “life is what happens when plans fall apart.” But that had such a negative slant to it. Instead, I embrace the idea that nature guides personal growth.
The Threat of Illness
Ever since my daughter saw pictures from Blanca Lake several years ago, we’ve wanted to hike it together. We intended to go for my birthday hike two days before our trip to Iceland, but I came down with a bad cold on Monday, the day before our target hike. I did everything I could think of to get better: hydrating, soaking in the hot tub, grounding, taking extra vitamins including C and Zinc, sucking on honey-infused cough drops, and going to bed early. My daughter agreed to the suggestion that I’d wake her if I felt like I could hike. Otherwise, she would sleep in.
On Tuesday, I had zero congestion. Excited about our hike, I checked on my daughter. She’d stayed up until 1:30, and when she learned it was raining, she curled up under her blankets. Partnerless, I considered my options. My first thought was exploring the east side of Squak. But I wanted to do something more memorable for my birthday. I left a note saying I would be at Exit 47 hiking to Pratt Lake.
As I headed out the front door alone, Ajax tried to join me. I’ve decided to cap him at under 8 miles and less than 2000′ gain to protect his ailing left hind leg. When I scolded him and lured him back inside, he looked at me like I was ripping his nails off his claws. I couldn’t risk him reinjuring his leg two days before our Iceland vacation. That would not help HIS personal growth.
A Change in Destination
A big fender bender in downtown Seattle added more than 30 minutes to my travel time. Having left the house later than usual (I’d waited until the last possible second to wake my daughter), I got off at Exit 34 intending to try Teneriffe (13 miles/3,800′ gain, a desired mileage challenge on my physical journey to personal growth). But that hike is accessible from Exit 32 (oops), and I didn’t feel like backtracking. Faced with a choice between Granite Lake (which I’d already done twice this summer) or Mailbox, I chose the latter.
I pulled into the Mailbox trailhead parking lot around 8 a.m. Four cars sat in the upper lot and four more in the lower lots. In the fog and mist, I started up the new trail around 8:15. Now I just had to hit 9.4 miles and 4000′ elevation gain. By myself. Fortunately, the second time hiking solo felt better than the first on Tiger. With no bears.
All Kinds of Weather
The first part of the new trail on Mailbox is lovely, covered in Doug firs, cedars, and pines, so even in the wind, rain, and sleet I didn’t get too wet or cold. I kept my raincoat on for the first and last 1000′ of gain, stripping to a long-sleeved shirt for the 2000′ gain in the middle of the hike. A woman who left the parking lot just after I did caught up at the base of the boulder field. She turned back just as the wind and sleet increased.
I got lucky. The precipitation stopped when I was 300′ below the summit, gracing me with a beautiful rainbow. At the summit, I gratefully pulled out my down coat and enjoyed parting, swirling clouds and a pair of juncos foraging near me as I doctored a small blister and then ate some trail mix. The sleet had chased the last pair of hikers from the summit a few minutes before I arrived so I had the whole summit to myself.
Smoother Sailing
The 5-mile return trip to the car reminded me of other recent hikes — the blue stains on rocks had me looking for blueberries and huckleberries, but I didn’t find any large clumps worth picking. I kept my eyes open for fall colors and saw brilliant red berries. It was still on the early side for the beautiful autumn display I know will come soon. I thought about my dog’s health, my daughter’s return to campus, my family’s upcoming vacation in Iceland, my journey with personal growth, and the exam results I might receive on my return.
As I often do, I chanted aloud, “I’m grateful for x.” It felt funny talking without Ajax there to hear me. Instead, I tried a new silent alphabet game that challenged me to come up with four things for each letter, such as “Annabelle is an Accountant from Anacortes who takes Acrobatic lessons.” Some of my creations made me laugh. It helped the solitary miles pass more quickly.
Return to the States
Following two glorious weeks in Iceland, my return to the Pacific Northwest mountains left me with mixed feelings. On the one hand, I was delighted to have Ajax rejoin me on a shorter hike. I took him to Whittaker Wilderness, Shy Bear Pass, and Doughty Falls, a hike I’ve written about several times. (See Skills and Habits, April 2024; Take Action, August 2023; Expect the Unexpected, July 2023). He has been an enormous contributor to my personal growth over the past decade.
On the other, I faced post-vacation blues, worries about my new coaching venture, and concerns for both my dog’s health and my interrupted sleep (Iceland is seven time zones ahead of Seattle).
Take-Aways
Perhaps I had faulty expectations that I’d feel recharged, invigorated, and ready to conquer the world after two weeks of vacation and passing my exam. Instead, I felt fatigue and fear. What now? Mistakes and failures are inevitable as I venture into uncharted territory on my journey to personal growth. But I don’t want to focus on those. Instead, I want to think about all the good that might be just around the corner. That makes me excited.
We make our reality. If we constantly focus on fear and worry, all we see will be things that make us fear and worry. If we focus on gratitude, we’ll find plenty of things to be grateful for. I want to focus on connections. On possibilities. On learning, and opportunities.
By writing my most recent post about quieting the negative critic and listening to my inner guidance, I shifted that tired, scared self into one who has quiet expectations for the future. Anything is possible. And the pages are waiting for me to fill them. I choose to look for love, not fear.
What’s more, now I get to share all of my wonderful Iceland memories. So let the storytelling begin – both about the trip and the next chapters of my life. As I always sign off with clients, Onward, upward, forward! If you have stories to tell about your personal growth, please include them in the clients. I love hearing from readers.