I did it. Weird.

It is strange to be done with trail. My first “lifelong dream” has been completed.

I started the trek in Campo as a complete novice who was unsure how exactly to use my sawyer squeeze and transformed into an experienced thru-hiker with scratched up legs, over 2000 miles under her Hoka speedgoats, and the willpower to see the Northern Terminus.

I climbed the mountains, I filtered the water, I killed the mosquitos, I devoured the town meals, I hitchhiked, I climbed up Forester Pass in a legendary snow year, I met the most amazing souls; I fell, cried, laughed, over-thought, under-thought, sang, contemplated, and persevered.

I did what I set out to do…

…And in no way, shape, or form did it look or turn out the way I had imagined

When people ask how trail was, I usually respond with “How many days do you have to hear about it…”

There is just no way to articulate the full experience.

It is one meant to be shared, felt, and wholly experienced.

I couldn’t have done it alone.

My terminus Instagram post read…

“We did it.”

“We because this endeavor was certainly not just me. Going through these five months backpacking from Mexico to Canada as a “solo” hiker does not fully encapsulate the full picture.

“Solo” does not show the endless support and love of my family, or the spectacular souls I met who progressively became family and my everything out there.”

“Solo” does not show the goodness of strangers, trail angels, and people who gave me rides, food, and even money.

“Solo” doesn’t encompass my faith and how I put my trust in the Creator who made the valleys, mountains, wildflowers, and rocks that I tripped, trudged, trekked, and traversed upon day after day.”

“Solo” just doesn’t do it justice; it’s all about the people who banded together from near and far to support me and who made it all possible.

My last sunrise on trail through my tent door

How can I sum up the experience?

How can I explain what it feels like to be crusted with 10 days’ worth of sweat, blood, rain, and dirt?

How can I articulate how it feels to arrive in town; The overwhelming nature of resupplying, the warmth of a cup of coffee hitting your lips, or the feel of a roof over your head?

How does one explain the feeling of being on top of the world one hour and in the pit of despair the next?- how our emotions and feelings in one day can make it seem like a literal eternity.

How can I explain how the days felt endless but the months and weeks so short?

How do I tell someone of the depth in the bonds I made out there because the people I shared this experience know exactly how all of this feels.

They understand.

The world can’t fully understand- no matter how I write, speak, or explain it.

The moment when the skies finally cleared on my last day providing a beautiful view of the valley

Being back in real life is odd. Completing this dream has left a void.

I miss the simplicity.

I miss the struggle.

I miss my tramily.

I miss the trail.

And I am left to wonder…

What will be my next dream?