The Intentional Announcement of Intent

There is a specific moment in late summer.  A moment every evening when daytime distinctly turns to dusk.  It lasts less than a minute, but I can feel the temperature change.   I can smell it in the air.  It’s subtle, yet palpable as it slides between my finger tips and fills my lungs.  It’s the best one minute of the day.  The best minute to ride a bike, the best minute to walk, the best minute to be outside and connect with the Earth.  The best minute to be alive.  That one minute so full of hope and possibility, healing and quiet.

I try to stand outside every summer evening just to catch it.  To breathe it in.  Watch the sky bleed purple.  Nostalgia wraps me up into a little ball of wonder.

When summer drew to a close last year, my heart shattered.  I’d allowed another summer to pass me by without possessing a grand adventure.  Owning one.  Adding it to my shelf of memories.

Adventurous and Freedom-Filled.  Care-Free and Bold.  Since I was a teeny-tiny kid, this is how I deliberately planned to define my life.  I refuse to look back over my life when I’m 104 and have only those few summers to think about while I’m sitting in my assisted living facility.  Those few summers of feeling so alive that every cell in my being buzzed with light.

I’ve been told that experiences and expectations morph as we age, and I should search for that feeling in other ways.  Smaller ways.  And I should be thankful.  Like a weekend at the beach, or a three day backpacking trip, or a BBQ.  And that should be good enough.  As though somehow wanting more is a flaw.  As though I should be ashamed of reaching for big dreams… at my age.

But I just can’t quit reaching, and I am unapologetic for living my life as I feel I must.  The weekend jaunts may be enough for the masses, but anything less than hiking the entire 2,663 miles all-at-once just won’t do.   The goal has to be enormous, or I should just sit at home and cry in my soup every Fall…forever.

I’ve wanted to hike the PCT since I first heard about it in 1996.  This year marks 20 years that I’ve wanted this.  It also is the year I turn 40.  Waiting for half my life is long enough.

I can’t let another summer pass without hiking this dream.

I can’t wrap my mind around it, it’s so huge.

So I know it’s the right thing to do.

I’m ready.  I’m in.

Pacific Crest Trail Class of 2016.