Tag: Hiking

• Ozette Triangle Loop

  Posted at 5:00 AM by Brittany, on May 10, 2021

  When I was 25 I got lost while hiking. Like…legitimately lost. I will never forget this hike, as it was the catalyst to being more prepared when I venture into the woods. When I was 29 I got lost again. I embarked on a 20 mile hike from the east to the west of Yellowstone National Park. This time it was slightly less intense, but equally frightening. It was inevitable for this Yellowstone hike, the trail was not well trafficked (very few tourists show up to YNP wanting to hike 20 miles into the backcountry), and there were endless bison paths deviating from the actual trail.

  It was a real mind game completing Mary Mountain.

  The point of these two stories is that I don’t like getting lost. I don’t reckon anyone really enjoys getting lost, but I really, truly, hate it. I panic quickly and my mind goes to the worst possible scenarios. I recently went for a hike on the coast that I anticipated would be as chill as an ice cream fresh from the ice cream man. The trail was easy – 9 miles all together on flat terrain forming a triangle with 3 miles in the forest, 3 miles on the beach, and 3 miles back in the forest.

  What could possibly go wrong?

  

  My first mistake of the day was buying a coffee from Starbucks without the ability to control how strong it was. I have perfected the science of a proper coffee to water ratio in order to ensure my blood sugar and my anxiety are both kept under control. I thought asking the barista to cut the coffee with half water would be enough, but let me tell you…it was not.

  4 miles into the hike my blood sugar plummeted so far down I’m convinced Hades felt it all the way in the underworld.

  My second mistake was overdoing my physical activity the days prior to this hike. I was cocky and anticipated it would be incredibly easy, but my goodness, walking 3 miles on loose sand is unbelievably annoying. If it weren’t for my exceptional hiking partner I would have lost my marbles. Low blood sugar, fatigue from too much prior activity, and unstable terrain set the foundation for an inexorable panic when we missed the last corner connecting the triangle from the beach back into the forest towards the parking lot.

  

  But wait, there’s more…

  Mistake number three was not downloading a map ahead of time, and neither of us had cell reception. The 3 miles of beach were hard to quantify because our pace was so slow from the sand. There was no clear indication of where to enter back into the forest, so we continued on the beach despite the fact it felt like we were literally walking for hours. (Spoiler: we WERE walking for hours.)

  By this time trepidation set in. My excess caffeine consumption had induced full blown anxiety that I tried to hide with my deafening silence.

  Logically my brain knew my life was not in danger (which I cannot say the same for on the aforementioned hikes I was lost on.) The problem with getting “lost” on this hike was the idea of having to walk the entirety of the beach all over again, back to where we started. This thought literally made me want to cease to exist. #dramatic.

  

  The tide was slowly starting to come back in, so naturally my mind envisioned being swept out to sea while on this endeavor to find the trail. We eventually took a moment to pause, eat something, and reevaluate where we might be. I had a divine intervention moment and decided to check my map app because I remembered that it still showed the blue dot location even without service. To my surprise I was also able to see the outline of the triangle and suddenly the heavens opened up.

  My cortisol levels were still on high alert, until by the grace of God we found the trail. What was meant to be 9 miles, turned into 14.5, and what was meant to be a triangle turned into…a kite.

  

  We had walked an extra 2.5 or so miles off track, away from the trail.

  Once we found the trail it was smooth sailing. I had a pep in my step again, and the second half of the woods were just as beautiful as the first. I don’t know what it is about loosing the trail, but it instills a sense of control loss for me, and I am a control f r e a k. At the end of the day the hike was mostly enjoyable, the weather was perfect, and I developed an unexpected bond with my hiking partner.

  Nothing brings two people together like fear. #dramaticagain

  

  

  I probably won’t be doing this hike again…ever, but now that I am safe in the confines of my home I can say I had a good time. I cannot deny my crippling overthinking at times, but I will say my trust has gotten better as I have gotten older. In these moments of fear I pray like I’ve never prayed before, and somehow that helps.

  Getting lost is sometimes inescapable. Whether it be on a hike, while driving around a new city, or while navigating life.

  

  Morals of the story: always have a map for trails that are not well marked, trust your gut when you think you’ve walked too far, don’t aggravate your anxiety with stimulants, don’t hike with people whose name start with the letter D (all three of these hikes I got lost on I was with one other person whose name started with a D.)

  Q: What’s your wildest “oh sh!t, I’m lost” story?? I can only hope I never have any crazier than this. I’ve been lost in other countries before, but somehow I don’t panic nearly as much as I do when I am lost in the woods.

  

  | 37 Comments Tagged Hiking, PNW, Washington

• Seasons

  Posted at 5:00 AM by Brittany, on March 24, 2021

  Have you ever noticed how beautiful the world becomes when a new season begins? It’s as if somehow the earth knew us humans were beginning to get complacent, or unmotivated by a certain time of the year. With the flip of a switch a new scent in the air, or the rise and fall in temperatures brings forth a new perspective.

  I’ve spent all of my years living in places with four seasons, and I cannot imagine living somewhere without them.

  My favorite season is fall, I love everything about a crisp October morning with frost on the grass and sun in the sky. A cool spring breeze follows close second, and summer makes me want to fall in love. Winter on the other hand is the season I find most difficult. Winter is cold, dark, gloomy, and often brings in waves of the SAD’s.

  This winter however, I found myself in surprisingly high spirits. 

  

  Winter hikes.

  Perhaps it was due to the fact I spent more time outdoors than I typically do in the winter months, perhaps it was because I spent more time with other humans, or perhaps it was because just as the seasons of weather change, so too do the seasons of life. I am at the tail end of one season, paving my way into a new one, and this season of life feels slightly more optimistic than the last.

  I became quite good at isolating myself over the last handful of years, a natural response to emotional upheavals. It took me years to notice my behavior, and while I still find great value in spending time alone, I began to feel the pull towards human connections earlier last year. My goal upon returning to America was to put this pull into play by pushing myself to be more social.

  

  Trail rides with fellow bike enthusiasts.

  As an introvert spending time alone is essential, especially with a job like mine where I am constantly engaging (superficially) with others. In contrast, as a human it is also essential to spend time with others – time of connection through shared interests, deep conversations, belly laughter, and daydreams. I’m not good at expressing my “need” for other people, but as I get older I get better at expressing these needs.

  Without the season of winter (or whatever season you enjoy the least), it would be hard to fully value the seasons I love so dearly. Change brings forth growth – growth of life on earth, and growth of life within ourselves. Walking through the more uncomfortable seasons allows for a deeper appreciation of the more uplifting ones. Literally and figuratively.

  The painfully cold hikes covered in snow, albeit beautiful, help me cherish the warmth of spring hiking.

  

  

  As I move into a new earthly season as well as a new life season I have one quote hanging around the forefront of my brain helping me to progress forward: “one day at a time.” It can be so easy for me to fall into the comparison trap of where I “should be” in my life, but really there is no right or wrong place to be. Each job, each relationship, and each experience helps mold us for the next season of life.

  In order to take full advantage of these lessons we must embrace each season we are in. 

  I have high hopes for the spring and summer months to come. I see grand adventures, deeper friendships, newfound knowledge, and further personal edification. I hope to be a source of encouragement for those who are stuck in a stormy season of life. There will always be an end to the storm, as long as we continue walking through it.

  

  Q: What’s your favorite season? 

  

  | 25 Comments Tagged Hiking, Life, Spring

• Things I’m Loving Lately

  Posted at 5:00 AM by Brittany, on March 8, 2021

  Despite the fact I do not follow a Catholic faith, I decided to partake in Lent this year. I was raised Catholic, but I have moved towards more of a relaxed Christian faith that I am happy with. Still, I have participated in Lenten fasts in the past, but this year was different. This year I genuinely wanted to give up something to challenge myself on more of a mental and spiritual level, rather than a physical one.

  This year, I have given up social media.

  My blog has never been a space where I can escape from reality, so my presence here is “allowed” and encouraged. Instead I have given up Instagram and Facebook, one of which I can easily get lost on for hours looking at photos from strangers I will never meet. Initially I thought this would be difficult. I thought my addiction to the mindless escape of scrolling on Instagram would be a painful missing piece of my mental distraction repitour, but what I have found has been the complete opposite.

  Rather than curling up in a corner scratching at my face for the next fix, I am more present on here. I am more present with myself, I am writing more, and I feel calmer. My eating habits have been more balanced, my mood has been stable, and my sleep has been better. I’ve spent more time reflecting on deep thoughts as well as superficial “fun” thoughts.

  Thoughts that have inspired this post. Thoughts of random things I am enjoying lately. Let’s dive in, shall we?

  

  • I am enjoying wearing a Garmin watch without the obsession.

  I will forever have a soul tie to my OG Garmin Forerunner 110, but he is no longer with us. I bought that watch in 2011, and we made it through many, many runs together. What I loved most about the 110 was the fact that it didn’t have any bells and whistles. No calorie counts, no step counts, no heart rate counts, it was just a watch that turned into a GPS when you asked it to.

  I have avoided a new Garmin because of the bells and whistles. As someone who struggled with an exercise addiction and disordered eating it can be hard to separate from that extra data. If the day of movement wasn’t perfect it was bad news. So I stopped wearing anything, I stopped tracking movement, and I did the unthinkable – I intentionally gained weight and spent many days inactive. I truly believe this temporary hiatus helped me to have a more balanced approach to exercise.

  I now use a Forerunner 45, one of the more basic watches with just the right amount of bells and whistles. RIP to Gary my Forerunner 110 shown below.

  

  • I am enjoying new work skillz.

  I finally know how to change my own bike tire/tube. I’ll never forget the time I got a flat tire years ago. It was my rear tire aka the “entering Mordor tire” with regard to taking it on and off. I was successful in getting the tire off, took it into REI to fix, and everything was going great. Until I couldn’t get the tire back on.

  I accepted my failures and asked one of my neighbors for his help, a neighbor I had never spoken to in my life. I knew he rode bikes so I figured it was worth it to ask. He was most helpful, and as a thank you I baked him (and his family) cookies and gave them a pound of coffee (back when free coffee was up to my neck.) I left it on their porch and never heard anything.

  I hope his wife didn’t think I was hitting on him. Awkward.

  

  • I am enjoying spending money.

  Hear me out on this one…I am one of the most frugal people you will ever virtually meet. I hoard my money like I am preparing for some kind of apocalypse, and it’s honestly a bit ridiculous at times. I rarely if ever buy myself something, and it takes me a long time to justify a purchase unless I “need” it. Although “need” is such a relative term.

  I refuse to fall prey to consumerism, but I have been spending more money on myself lately. Buying nicer hiking gear, buying an extra pair of shoes, the aforementioned Garmin, etc.

  I will never forget something a small southern man I used to work with in Germany told me. We were talking about my frugality one day, and I was telling him about all the ways I tried to cut costs while traveling (like using a hostel pillowcase for a towel, perks of short hair), and he looked at me and said: “you cannot take your money to the grave.”

  Ever since then I’ve been more mindful about letting myself live a little. I can’t take it to the grave.

  

  • I am enjoying my obsession with “Happy Healthy Hippie – Go With The Flow Hormone Balance.“

  If you have been around these parts for a while, you will know I have a bit of a “crunchy granola” approach to most things in my life. I avoid pharmaceuticals, I rarely wash my hair, I spent an entire summer without wearing deodorant, I try to eat mostly whole foods, and shaving my legs is an afterthought to…everything.

  When my menstrual cycle returned after being gone for five years, I knew something was still off. My hormones were ALL OVER the place. Being the professional obsessor that I am, I spent far too much time on the Google trying to find out what was going on, until one day I decided I had to do something because my PMS symptoms were taking over my life. I know that sounds dramatic, but I am completely serious.

  No this post is not sponsored, however it SHOULD be. This blend is literally just a mix of herbs so I knew I had nothing to loose. And let me tell you…I have lost nothing and GAINED some of my sanity back.

  

  • I am enjoying winter hiking.

  I never imagined I would be someone who enjoyed hiking in the winter months. As someone who struggles with Raynaud’s I tend to avoid being outside in cold temps for long periods of time. Not only have I enjoyed winter hiking, my extremities have not fallen off like I anticipated they would.

  

  

  My hiking pals and I took a trip to the Hoh Rainforest last week, a place I hadn’t visited since I was 17. The last time I took a trip to the Hoh was for a team building weekend with my dad and a group of others who were all planning a trip to Mexico for a mission trip. All I remember from 17 year old Brittany’s experience was hating the five mile hike to our camp site, hundreds of thousands of black slugs, and being stuck with people I didn’t mesh with.

  Ultimately the mission trip was amazing, and it was all worth while.

  

  Now that I am an adult, and I enjoy hiking, five miles in (and five miles out) is no big thing. We hiked (or rather walked, this area is very flat) to “Five Mile Island” where we enjoyed some snacks and views before heading back. Lush green trees, mossy rocks, waterfalls, ferns large enough to engulf an elk, and rivers rushing loud enough to lull any white noise lover to sleep.

  Worth the three hour drive, five hour walk, and three hour drive back.

  

  Life without social media feels good. I am reading more, I am listening to amazing music, I am daydreaming about people and places and adventures to come. When Lent comes to an end I plan to be more intentional with my time spent online. Life feels good right now, and I am enjoying this whole “one day at a time thing.”

  After all, today is all we have.

  Q: Have you ever taken a significant break from social media?

  

  | 43 Comments Tagged Biking, Garmin, Hiking, Hormones, Lent, Life, PNW

• Duckabush River Trail

  Posted at 5:00 AM by Brittany, on March 1, 2021

  When I first started hiking more consistently in 2014, I spent most of my time exploring the Cascades of Washington State. I dabbled a bit in the Olympics, but not nearly as much as the Cascades. My first consistent hiking partner lived in Seattle, an area much closer to the Cascades, so I would meet him in the city and we would go from there.

  Occasionally he would come to my side of the water where the Olympics are, but we both felt more of a draw towards the Cascades.

  Then my hiking partner moved, I couldn’t find any other willing participants, and I began hiking alone. My mountain range of choice was still the Cascades, because somehow I felt more comfortable hiking there alone. In the beginning of my solo hiking endeavors I spent a lot of time on trails I was already familiar with, but eventually explored some new to me trails as well.

  Fast forward many years, and I have spent more time in the Olympics this past month than I did in all of 2014.

  

  I have managed to weasel my way into a somewhat consistent group of hiking pals, and these adventures have quickly become a highlight of my week. I have recently seen three new areas of the Olympics, places I would never go if I were alone. There is something deep, and vast about the Olympics.

  This isn’t a bad thing, but there is an eerie energy about these mossy trees and muddy trails that give the feeling of complete isolation.

  

  In a group setting the strong sound of a raging river, or the absolute silence of wide open woods is welcomed. Alone, these auditory stimulations are a quick reminder of just how small we are in these endless mountains of trees and terrain. I have shared a few photos from my hikes the last month in previous posts, but today I share a proper trail report.

  The latest mountain adventure took my pals and I to the Duckabush River Trail, a 10.5 mile moderately rated hike deep in the heart of the Olympics. The early bird not only catches the worm, but also catches a good parking spot. Although hiking in the winter months on less populated trails will also help with that. All of the hikes I’ve done the last month have had little to no other humans around for miles.

  I’m stoked to have friends who also believe in the power of an early start, it can be like pulling an abscessed tooth with some people convincing them to get a head start.

  

  

  This trail starts out mostly flat with a bit of a down hill grade, weaving in and out of large lichen covered trees and a few small stream crossings. Despite the fact we were hiking in February, the trail conditions were excellent. Nothing a good pair of waterproof shoes cannot combat. It’s somewhat comical to think I have been hiking for as long as I have, and only recently purchased a pair of waterproof shoes.

  I still wear trail runners though, because I am adamantine with footwear and cannot commit to the extreme discomfort of a hiking boot.

  The weather was moody and wet for the first half of our hike, and despite the trail name there was only a small section that hugged parallel with the river. The terrain was ever-changing and the cooler temps were a welcomed reprieve when we reached some quick, but steep switchbacks bringing us to an expansive view of the valley below.

  I’m much quicker when the external temperature is cold, I give off heat like a personal portable furnace.

  

  

  Our first vantage point was a large rock fit for baby Simba, and we stopped to appreciate the view. After the switchbacks to this rock the trail is moderate again, moving onto the backside of the mountain we had just climbed. Endless rows of burned trees guided us down towards our destination next to the river. We encountered a small amount of snow on the backside of the hike, but nothing my Salomon trail runners couldn’t handle.

  Upon arrival at the river we sat and savored a snack before making the trek back to the car.

  The sit at the river brought my core temperature lower than comfortable, and I was quite chilly as we ate our snacks. As if by the Grace of God when we started our walk back the clouds dispersed and the sun came out to play. We were much quicker on the way back, per usual, and managed to finish the hike in a little over six hours. I appreciate the desire to stop and savor the views along the way, as well as the focus to get back to the car after we’ve seen all there is to see.

  

  

  This group of pals reminds me of the three solid guy friends I hiked with regularly while I was living in Yellowstone, one of which was my absolute savior during those intense but amazing months in the wilderness.

  When the spring and summer months arrive, I plan to spend more time in the Cascades. The sweeping peaks of those mountains are a welcomed challenge, one that will remind me of how fortunate I am to have found a balance in living life with an autoimmune disease. Each day brings forth new challenges, but I have dialed down what I need in order to keep up with these three hooligans, or any others I embark into the mountains with.

  Until then, I will relish in these lowland hikes through the woods of the Olympics. A forest unlike any other I have seen.

  

  Q: Are you a fan of winter hiking?

  

  | 27 Comments Tagged Hiking, Olympic Mountains, PNW, Washington

• Filtering Fear

  Posted at 5:00 AM by Brittany, on February 22, 2021

  I am an anxious person. This is not news, but as I continue to navigate my way through life I continue trying to find the “why” behind my feelings/emotions/behaviors. Fear and anxiety are hardwired into our psychology for good reason – these intuitive emotions help to protect us from dangerous situations. Fear can act as a motivator to prepare us for the unexpected, but fear can also act as a paralytic.

  My fear has somehow evolved over time from a healthy and mindful reminder of my boundaries, to an unkempt field of weeds.

  The thing about me is that while I acknowledge that I am anxious and overly fearful at times, I am also actively working against myself to determine what is real, and what is not. I am quite literally filtering through my fears. What is causing me to feel anxious most of the time is a false reality somehow skewed by my experiences over time. When we try to repress these thoughts or feelings we continue to stay stuck in an unhealthy cycle, making poor choices along the way. When we acknowledge these thoughts or feelings we grow.

  I choose to swim through these thoughts rather than allow them to drown me.

  

  Life experiences play a large role in our mental health, but I truly believe that a significant amount of our dysphoria is reflective of our physical bodies as well. Hormonal imbalances, and digestive distresses are key factors in our mental health. The gut is referred to as our second brain for a reason, the close knit inner workings of our true brain and our guts are very real. What we think we feel, and what we feel we think.

  The reason we feel like we need to rush to the bathroom when we are nervous, or when we feel a pain in our stomach when we are afraid, is all relative to these homeostatic relationships within our bodies.

  I have a borderline obsession with researching the topic of physical and mental health correlations, and the knowledge I have gained has me often wanting to scream the benefits of proper nutrition and lifestyle from the tallest mountain. Sometimes though, these basic humanistic necessities aren’t enough to balance our inner beings, and we need a little help from external sources. My hormones have been out of whack for an unreasonable amount of time, and I recently decided to experiment with a herbal hormone balancing blend.

  I am blown away by the results.

  

  For the first time in what feels like lightyears I feel balanced. I feel stable. I feel less anxious and less “down.” I’m not saying this is a magic bullet, but I do believe in the power of nature helping to bring us back to our factory setting. My mood the last month has been lighter, I have been more sociable, I have been more empathetic, more compassionate. I have been more…whole.

  My fear is still hanging around, but most of the scenarios in which I feel fearful are realistic.

  Examples of appropriate fear I have recently felt are: not wanting to drive in the snow, and challenging the idea of a hike in the snow. Snow and I are not good pals. I once got lost for hours on a hike because of snow, and I have slid too many times on the roads because of snow. Examples of inappropriate fear I have recently felt are: fear of rejection, and wanting to cancel on friends because I fear being a burden. Spoiler alert – a worthy friend will never make you feel like a burden.

  

  With downs come ups, and it feels good to be on the other end of this yo-yo. I know the downs are inevitable, but I’ll take the ups for as long as I can. With the shift in my mood I have had more of a desire to be social, to get out of my comfort bubble of isolation and spend more time with others. I am thankful to have met new pals who enjoy hiking as much as I do, and each “yes” I say when I am invited on a hike helps propel me further forward.

  I turned 32 last week, and while I had big plans of spending every year of my 30’s in Europe, Covid had other plans. Instead I went for a hike with three new pals. A snowy, wet, adventurous, new to me hike. I swear I just turned 30, yet here we are already at 32. The older I get the more I reflect on my life in my 20’s. Somedays I feel I have made zero progress in my life, but each year I make moves in the right direction. I no longer feel the need to “fix” my problems. I am content in diving deep to the roots of what I am feeling.

  The beauty of change.

  

  It’s ok to feel fear. It’s ok to feel anxious. What’s not ok is letting these feelings control you. The beneficial fear is directly related to physical safety, while the rest of it is a result of over thinking, societal conditions, and unresolved trauma from earlier in life. I am finding joy in this process of working through the weeds I have grown in my mind. For so long I have avoided my own mental garden, but how freeing it feels to be so in tune with myself.

  What would happen if we looked at the bigger picture of our lives? If we are feeling more anxious, more fearful, or more down than normal. Are we taking care of our physical body? Have we allowed ourselves to work through any weeds in our minds? Are we spending time with others, in whatever manner works for us with the current state of the world? This is a classic case of what came first, the mental or physical ailments? Small changes in the things we can control have the power to make large changes in the things we cannot.

  I am one year older, but I feel multiple years wiser. I can only imagine this continues to get better as I continue to age.

  

  To anyone out there who feels paralyzed by fear, you are not alone. I challenge you to question the root cause of these feelings, and to filter out what is true and what is conditioned over years of imbalances. Say yes to something that scares you, tell someone how you feel about them, value your worth because you only get one shot at this thing called life.

  We can choose to stay stuck in the shadows, or we can learn to dance in the sun.

  Q: How do you deal with fear?

  

  | 32 Comments Tagged Anxiety, Fear, Hiking, Life, Mental Health

• Pushing Through

  Posted at 5:00 AM by Brittany, on February 2, 2021

  I recently posted a photo on Instagram with a “deep” and somewhat recurring theme for me, something I alluded to in my previous post. The words are ones I have been mulling on for years, but just when I start to lean into these words I get up and run. Typically around the three month mark of being in my hometown, my restless soul is rearing up for another adventure, another escape, another opportunity to outrun my emotions.

  But this time I am still – immobile in the grand scheme of things.

  I realize the reason this theme is so constant for me is because it’s taken me nearly a decade to work through a myriad of life events. I start to dive deep, write a blog post about my feelings, and then I flee before the real work is done. If you’ve been around this space of the internet for a while, you’ll know I’ve shared similar struggles for what feels like lightyears, and I often feel like I am prattling with these posts, but what I wrote on Instagram encompasses what I’ve needed to do for quite some time…

  “Coming back to my hometown is always hard for me. There are emotions and experiences stuck in time here, and when I move away a small part of me is trying to escape them.

  I came back this time because I knew I needed to sit with these feelings, to grieve lost friendships and relationships, to allow myself to fall on my face without the nagging judgmental voice of my ego, and to figure out what I need in order to heal and move forward.

  All of these things are possible anywhere in the world, but I find when I’m off on adventures my focus is elsewhere. So here, in this town I can’t help but feel stagnant and stuck in, I find myself face to face with the same emotions I’m always trying to outrun.

  Call it growth, call it adulting, or simply call it burn out…but I’ve been allowing myself to feel so many things since moving back. It’s not easy, it’s certainly not fun, and there are plenty of times I want to jump in my car and drive far away, but I stay. I stay in these feelings because deep in my heart I know the only way out is through.”

  

  Despite my broken record like posts the last few years, something is different this time. This time I am not running away. I am doing “the work” no matter how uncomfortable it might be. I’ve officially reached the point of no return, and I cannot take this cycle anymore. It’s time to move forward. So I have been spending time with myself in isolation, while also challenging myself to be more social. I struggle with meeting new people, but I know these struggles stem from deep rooted fears most of us experience from childhood.

  I am not great at small talk, the superficial conversations make me uncomfortable and anxious.

  However, I know without these awkward initial engagements with other humans it’s nearly impossible to make friends. So often I dismiss a relationship before it even begins because I hold out for those rare people I click with immediately. I crave long, deep, vulnerable conversations with people who listen and who share parts of their brokenness few others have seen. I’ve only had a few of those people cross my path within the last decade, and as much as I wish all friendships could start this way I do believe some friendships flourish after time.

  Unless you’re an animal. I will forever be the introvert in the corner with the animals. 

  

  Side note: I bought my cat a handmade wool cat cave…and I feel great joy every time he goes inside.

  One of the reasons I chose my current job was because I knew it would be a place of comity, filled with people who like to hike, explore, bike, and whatever else we can get into outside. Despite the common interests in activities like hiking, I still feel anxious when committing to spending time with my coworkers outside of work. Typically when I decide to push myself out of my comfort zone I move across the country…or the world…but right now I am pushing myself to be more social close to home.

  Meeting new people is a crucial part of my healing journey, and it will be impossible for me to rewrite the narratives I have about myself without putting myself out there. 

  I recently went on two hikes with two separate groups of people from work, and both excursions were good not only for my mind and my body, but also for my soul. The first hike I embarked on was one I have done many times before. In fact this used to be one of my favorite solo hikes, making it somewhat ironic I decided to hike this with three other people. While I am not usually a fan of larger groups, having more than one “new” person makes it a bit less overwhelming for me.

  

  I am very picky with my friends, but once I feel comfortable with someone I am an open book. Truthfully I can be an open book right off the bat, if only someone shows a genuine interest. For so much of my life I have been around people who don’t show interest in what I have to say, or they listen just to reply. This has conditioned me to keep to myself, but it has also allowed me to appreciate those special souls I meet who want to hear what I have to say.

  This aversion to other humans is something I have struggled with since the endless gaslighting of a previous relationship, causing me to question everything about myself. 

  This old hike with new friends was a nice push for me to get outside and start breaking open my shell of introversion. The only way to become more comfortable with discomfort is to continue pushing through. Four days later, I agreed to another hike with three guys I work with. This adventure ended up being a full day – 12 miles through mud, snow, flooded trail sections, many downed trees, and it was a blast.

  

  I tend to get along with people of all ages, but I don’t have many friends my own age. I attribute this to the fact I continue to flounder in life while most people my age have “careers.” What I love about my job is the employees range from 18 all the way to late 60’s/70’s. The first group I hiked with I was the youngest, the second I was the oldest, and yet both times were enjoyable for different reasons.

  My soul tends to connect with fellow old souls, and I have discovered physical age has nothing to do with the age of our souls.

  

  As I continue to grow and push myself towards personal melioration I find comfort in the discomfort. Each time my throat tightens up before a night filled with tears, when my chest aches at the thought of a lost love, or when I let go of the obsessive control over my body and what I eat, I feel oddly comforted. I know in these times of pain there is a future of flourishing.

  How joyful we could be as humans if we only took the time to work through our brokenness.

  I’m writing this post to say I am in a place of comfortable discomfort. I don’t know if that makes sense, but despite the underlying anxiety I feel most days, I know I am where I’m meant to be at this moment in time. I am enjoying meeting new people, destroying the false narratives in my mind, and finally allowing moments of the past and present to work their way through my mind. It’s amazing what we can discover if we only take a moment to put away the distractions of life and press the pause button.

  

  So here’s to pushing through. Through the discomfort, through the sadness, through the joy, through the laughter, and through the pain. Being human is one wild ride, but what a blessing it is to have the freedom to explore who we are, and what we need. One step, one day, one minute at a time.

  Q: How are you taking time for yourself lately?

  

  | 23 Comments Tagged Hiking, Life, Reflection

• Tre Cime di Lavaredo

  Posted at 5:00 AM by Brittany, on September 30, 2020

  Three years ago I wrote a post about the time I visited the Cliffs of Moher, a place I had once seen in a photograph and immediately became enamored by. Today I am going to share another location I finally had the chance to see in real time after seeing a photograph many years prior. I don’t remember the first photo I saw of the Italian Dolomites, but I remember seeing the jagged rocks and lush green valleys knowing I had to visit.

  I’m sad to say I lived in southern Germany (THREE hours away from the Dolomites) for nearly two years, and it wasn’t until the very end of my time that I made the Dolomites a priority. I moved back to Washington two Fridays ago (a sudden decision to leave a week earlier than planned), but not before squeezing in a long awaited (and definitely not the last) trip to the Dolomites.

  

  

  My last day of work was 09 Sept, and my favorite travel pal MaryBeth and I rented a car on 11 Sept and set off for a weekend away in Italy. The Dolomites are huge, and I had no idea where to begin, so I chose one of the most popular trails for an introduction to the Dolomites. The Tre Cime di Lavaredo loop is walked by many, but for good reason.

  The ever-changing landscape truly showcases a little bit of everything. I am amazed by the beauty of these Italian Alps.

  MaryBeth and I chose a quaint hotel to stay at within a 30 minute drive to our hike of choice. We chose this hotel because of the free breakfast, which did not disappoint. Due to our friend Covid, breakfast wasn’t buffet style like the photos implied, but this was probably for the best. Too many chocolate croissants and I’d have to be rolled up the mountain, but boy is there something magical about Italian espresso and a chocolate croissant. We arrived on Friday early enough to settle in, and to prepare for our full day of exploring.

  

  

  After our breakfast on Saturday we made our way to the trail head. The drive was about 30 minutes, and thanks to my prior research I was prepared for the 30 euro toll fee in order to drive the road to the trail. I assume this has to do with the popularity of the trail, but if you really don’t want to pay the fee you can park and walk (or take a bus.) I typically entertain the idea of walking, but I’m thankful we didn’t.

  This would have been a rough end to our hike.

  We began our trek around 0945, after a handful of minutes searching for the clockwise entrance to the trail head. I had read to follow the trail in the opposite direction than most because the views are better. I couldn’t find the trail, so we decided to walk the traditional route. After completing the loop I can agree the views would have been better going the opposite way, but at the end of the day the views are amazing regardless. I realized after we finished the hike that we had parked right next to the opposite end of the trail where I would have wanted to start. So close.

  

  

  The beginning of this trail starts flat, a casual walk along the base of the above pictured peaks. If you look closely you can see humans scattered along the trail, something we had to maneuver around the entirety of the hike. Usually when I hike on a trail that is covered with people I get irritated, but this trail is too beautiful to care. It’s unavoidable. After a short while we arrived at our first of many forks in the road, and our first of many mountain huts along the way. From here we continued on the trail, taking the quick, but steep route to our first vantage point.

  

  

  After our first wee climb, we stopped at the top of the hill to savor the views below. From here we could see our next destination, a hut off in the distance with a taste of home name. The Dolomites are so close to Germany, that everything in the area is in both Italian and German. Tre Cime is also known as Drei Zinnen, which both translate to three peaks. Our next destination on the loop was to the Drei Zinnen Hütte.

  

  As we began approaching the hut, we heard a man speaking over a loud speaker. MaryBeth heard the man say something about a man from France, and first place, from which we deduced there was a mountain race going on! I absolutely love watching people run, and the predominant demographic of these mountain runners were over the age of 50, and a lot of them were women. To say I was inspired is an understatement.

  We sat to watch the runners, and soaked up the infectious energy near the hut for a bit, all the while we savored the stunning view of the surrounding alpine lakes. 

  

  

  Upon arrival at the Drei Zinnen Hütte coming from a counterclockwise loop (the popular route) is where we found the first real expansive view of the three peaks in all their glory. I am not a climber, and I don’t think I ever will be (my few experiences on very thin and sketchy trails have proven this to me), but I can only imagine what the views are like from the tops of those peaks. The weather was perfect this day, a mix of sun and slight overcast.

  

  

  

  After admiring the superhumans running up this mountain, we began our descent down into the valley to bring our loop towards a circle. We took our time the entirety of this hike to ensure we soaked up as much of the view as possible. The route isn’t overly difficult to follow, but I was glad to have read a few blogs in order to know which route to follow. The trails branch off in multiple directions, but I knew as long as the three peaks were close on our left we were on the right path.

  

  

  

  The elevation changes on this trail aren’t anything to write home about, but the final stretch did have a decent dip down followed by an equally decent incline. MaryBeth was wearing shoes that were hurting her feet, and I was wearing Teva sandals. My choice of footwear was mostly due to the fact I didn’t want to buy new shoes right before I was leaving, and slightly due to the fact I like to test my boundaries when it comes to exploring in those sandals.

  There were a few moments I clung to the inner edge of the trail just to avoid slipping, but overall the trail was moderate. I do not regret my choice of footwear, and if I had to do it again I would. 

  

  

  

  From here the trail was chill the remainder of the way. Overall the entirety of the loop is just over 6 miles, but with all of our stops and savors we didn’t get back to our car until 15:30, around six hours later. I could not have asked for a better introduction to the Dolomites, this day was absolutely perfect. The end of our hike showcased why walking the trail clockwise would have been a more expansive view.

  

  

  

  

  

  

  We arrived back at our hotel to shower and rest before heading out for a meal of gnocchi and pizza (and wine for MB!) Can you really go to Italy without having any or all of those? I think not. I will daydream of this final European adventure (for now) for months to come. My decision to move back to America was not an easy one, but for the time being was the right one.

  I don’t know what’s next for me, but I do know I’ll be back to the Dolomites as soon as I can. 

  

  Q: What’s one place you are dying to visit after seeing a photograph of the location? 

  

  | 20 Comments Tagged Brittanys Life Abroad, Dolomites, Hiking, Italy

• Austrian Alpine Lakes

  Posted at 2:00 PM by Brittany, on July 29, 2020

  Back in 2015 when I started hiking regularly, I fell in love with alpine lake hikes (this one is my all time favorite.) In order for a lake to be considered “alpine” it must be above a certain elevation (somewhere around 5000 feet, or 1524 meters), and is often fed by mountain runoff. In Washington where I am from, these alpine lake hikes start close to sea level, which means it’s quite a climb to see them.

  Anyone can visit a regular lake, but you have to work to see an alpine lake. 

  Here in the Alps there are cable cars to help cut off some of the climbing, but the assistance in reaching an alpine lake doesn’t make the journey any less spectacular. Last summer I was introduced to two lakes in northern Austria very close to where I live, and I had been daydreaming about seeing them ever since. I finally made plans to spend a day in the mountains, and it was a day I won’t soon forget.

  

  These two lakes are within the same hiking region on the Meininger Mountain range in Ehrwald Austria. I have ridden my bike to Ehrwald a couple times, and I originally thought about biking to Ehrwald, hiking to the lakes, and biking back. This brief psychotic episode was short lived thankfully, because that would have been rough.

  Instead I took a train (with my bike) to Ehrwald (saving an hour and a half of uphill biking), biked to the cable car where my pal Galiya and I took the cable car up the mountain (saving two hours of hiking) and began our journey to lake number one around 10:30.

  First stop: Seebensee.

  

  

  The views on our way to the lake reminded me of the Swiss Alps, and were far more expansive than any of the hikes I have done in Bavaria just next-door. I couldn’t believe I waited so long to experience Austria in this way. The mountains kept going, and around each corner was a new view unlike anything we’d passed earlier in the day.

  It took us about 1.25 hours to make our way to Seebensee, and the terrain was doable for any hiker. I was out of breath a few times, only because Galiya and I were speed walking. After necking it back to enjoy the journey we fell into a comfortable pace. Once we arrived at Seebensee we found ourselves surrounded by other humans, and rightfully so – the lake is gorgeous.

  We also found ourselves surrounded by lots of alpine cows. My favorite!

  

  

  The weather was starting to get quite warm, and I was relating on a personal level to that cookies and creme cow in the above photo. Galiya and I brought our bathing suits so we could dip our overheated bodies into the lake, but we decided to save our plunge for lake number two.

  Second stop: Drachensee.

  The climb to Drachensee was more intense than the walk to Seebensee. This required over 300M of climbing in a short span of earth. We started the climb around noon (aka the peak heat of the day), and my body was definitely feeling the burn (inside and out.) I took my time, and stopped to savor the view of Seebensee a handful of times while I let my heart rate calm down.

  

  What I love most about hiking in Europe, aside from the jaw dropping views, is the diversity among hikers. People of all ages and shapes come out to hike, and everyone goes at their own pace. I saw more people over the age of 50 hiking to Drachensee than I saw people my age or younger. It’s not only motivational, but inspirational! I strive to live a life that will allow me to continue hiking well into my 60’s and even my 70’s!

  We took about 30 minutes to climb the switchbacked hill up to Drachensee, and at the top of this hill lives the Coburger Hütte – a mountain hut where most people stop to savor a bit or a brew. Galiya and I skipped the crowded hut and continued the final few minutes down to Drachensee.

  

  We had every intention of swimming in this lake, until we arrived. Drachensee is a beauty of a lake, but her inner core disappears into a thick darkness hiding whatever lives under the surface (Drachensee = dragon lake.) I don’t like swimming in water where I cannot see what is underneath me, and I have self diagnosed myself with Thalassophobia.

  Side note: this Buzzfeed article made me want to vomit and I could not finish looking at the photos! 

  The deal breaker for me was seeing a large pipe leading into the lake from the shore, and almost immediately disappearing into the darkness. Nope, nope, nope. Instead we sat around the shore of the lake where little to no other humans were, ate a snack, and savored the view while our core temperatures cooled off naturally from lack of movement.

  

  The trails surrounding Drachensee are seemingly endless, for more intense hikers and even climbers there are routes that continue onto the peaks above the lake. There is a Klettersteig route as well, but I like living so I opted for the lake as my “summit.” We planned to go for a swim in Seebensee after avoiding being sucked into the dragons lair of Drachensee, and began our descent back down to our first stop.

  Initially I couldn’t figure out why no one was swimming in either of these lakes. When the sun is strong and people are out hiking, it’s hard to find a spot to set up and swim because everyone is out swimming. I was worried all these German speakers knew something we didn’t, but we decided to go for it anyway.

  I quickly discovered why no one was swimming. 

  

  This icy blue water was just that – icy! The moment I stepped my toes into the water I was met with an overwhelming surge of cold. I slowly continued to wade deeper into the water, hooting and hollering the entire way. Had it not been for my feet slipping on the algae covered rocks I likely would have taken much longer to submerge my body.

  I then went in and out of the lake three times. I guess I was a sucker for the pain. Overall it was my feet and hands that suffered the most. I could have kept my core in that water for much longer. After cooling off our internal heaters we sat on the grass next to the lake watching small human specks walk across the mountain peaks surrounding us.

  We were in the middle of a cow party, and had a handful of cows come to see what we were up to. 

  

  As we dried off and reclothed, we made our way back towards the cable car to start our journey back home. Not before stopping at the Seebenalm for a bite to eat and a chat with a tiny human. A small boy came and sat with us as we ate our food and I proceeded to make him count in German for us (he spoke to us non stop in German, but I only understood 1/10 of what he was saying.)

  He was such a sweet and pure soul. 

  

  

  Our original plan was to bike back home (it’s mostly downhill), but after a full day of hiking (we managed ten miles) we decided to train back home. We made it back down off the mountain at 1700 – 6.5 hours later! It’s days like this that make it really, really hard to leave Europe.

  

  Q: Does swimming in bodies of water without a clear view of what’s below you scare you too?

  

  | 29 Comments Tagged Alpine Lake, Austria, Brittanys Life Abroad, Hiking

• Wandering and Pondering

  Posted at 2:00 PM by Brittany, on July 13, 2020

  Since returning to work full time on 15 June, I haven’t done many outdoor activities. My first few weeks back to working full time were rough. It’s amazing how quickly your body adjusts to not being on your feet all day, and at the end of my work days I was useless. My days off were spent resting, or doing something low key.

  My body has since readjusted to working full time, but I still opt for chill after work adventures – if any at all.

  I haven’t hiked much since I finally summited the Kramer at the end of May. The bigger hikes take more planning, and my body has to be in a specific condition for me to succeed, but one mountain I can always count on even when I feel less than 100% is the Eckbauer. Although I never feel 100%, but you get the idea. 

  

  The Eckbauer is the perfect balance of “I need to move because I feel like a slob,” and “but I don’t want to do anything crazy.” The elevation of this summit is a mere 1237m (4058ft) with a gain of 529m (1736ft). Just enough of a sweat – an hour of a climb, without feeling destroyed at the end. At the top of the Eckbauer there is a Hütte if you fancy a bite or a beer.

  This hike is arguably one of my favorite views for minimal work. 

  

  

  The Eckbauer is right next to the Olympic Ski Stadium, where the 1936 Winter Olympics were held. Before the Olympics, the town of Garmisch (where I live) and the next door town of Partenkirchen were separate entities. They did not associate as a unit. That was until Hitler decided he wanted to have the Olympics in little ol’ Garmisch.

  Garmisch alone was too small for something as monumental as the Olympics, and Hitler decided to combine the two towns into one. While each town is still individually referred to by their original names, the technical name for the entire area is Garmisch-Partenkirchen. But don’t ever go into Partenkirchen and call it Garmisch, the older locals still value their separation.

  

  I love history.

  Another small hike (more of a mountain walk) I did last month was on the Kramerplateauweg, which I have walked on manyyyyy times. I normally wouldn’t blog about this because I have done it so many times, however this time was different.

  

  Spring and summer time means animal time on the mountains surrounding Garmisch. What this means is the cows, goats, and sheep come out to play. The farmers in the area have spots of land on some of these mountains for their livestock to roam, and for weeks I saw a small patch of white specks on the Kramer from my room.

  These specks made loud bell clangs that carried throughout the valley, and I knew they must be sheep. While I was on my walk this day, I found my way into the open field of sheep and it was like walking into Narnia. I didn’t seek the sheep, but suddenly there they were, and suddenly my life had a kind of meaning I didn’t know it was missing.

  

  I admit there were a few times the sheep came walking towards me briskly, and it scared me. They were just curious and wanting to say hello, but anytime an animal with teeth approaches me, aggressive or not, I get a bit freaked. They just wanted to know if I came baring gifts in the form of food, but I sadly disappointed them.

  I sat with these sheep listening to the comforting clangs of their bells for about ten minutes before heading back down to my bike. This was an unexpected, but wonderful surprise. I find such joy in the sounds and smells of farmland. I know that sounds bizarre, but it reminds me of the simpler times of open rolling hills in Ireland.

  

  One more notable post work adventure I embarked on last month was to Badersee – a very small lake in Grainau. Grainau is the next town over from Garmisch (opposite of Partenkirchen), and I ride my bike here often when I want to shake out my legs. These backyard quickies are such great options for movement after work, or just on days I don’t feel like committing to a long bike ride.

  A quick 15 minute ride, an even quicker 10 minute walk through the woods, and Badersee provides a breathtaking view. 

  

  

  I live in an amazingly beautiful place of the world, and the thought of leaving brings a physical ache to my heart. I feel the heavy throbs of sadness every time I think about it, and unfortunately I have been thinking about it a lot lately. My time here is coming to an end, but if I had come here with a significant other I could probably stay forever.

  Alas, I have struggled with my job for a while now, and I have already stayed longer than I planned simply because I am head over heels in love with Bavaria.

  My plan is to leave at the end of September, but I know this will be like pulling a rotten tooth without anesthesia – painful, but necessary. I would love to stay in Germany, and there are other options for jobs, but there is a small piece of my heart that tells me this is not the time. I am trying to balance my heart and my mind, and I am trying to trust that God has a plan for me I do not yet see.

  I knew when I came to Germany my time here would be ephemeral in the grand scheme of life. 

  

  

  Sometimes I daydream about truly diving into the German culture, learning more German (Mein Deutsch ist nicht gut), making friends with the locals, and completely overhauling my life. Then I think about my cat, and my family and something stops me every time. Change is something I have always struggled with, which is ironic for someone who has enjoyed working seasonal jobs the last three years.

  This job has been different, I will have been here just under two years, which is a significant chunk of time. The longer the time, the harder the change. Life here is nothing like it was when I first arrived though, and I sense the need to move on. As much as it physically pains me to say. I have become increasingly more lonely the last few months, as my core group of friends has left.

  This might seem contradicting as I have posted about fun friend adventures, but those are brief weekends among months of loneliness. 

  

  I have only just begun to open the can of worms that is self healing from past trauma, and this adventure has been amazing, but it’s time to put more focus and energy into healing my spirit, mind, and body. I have also noticed with the return of my period, my emotions are out of control for one to two weeks of the month.

  I’m talking really dark headspace.

  Once the PMS weeks are over, my loneliness calms down, my body feels better, and I feel more intrigued by pursuing life in Europe with a different job. Is this the change I need? It’s hard to say, I don’t know which way is up and which way is down right now. Part of me does not want to come back to America, but I also feel very out of balance right now.

  

  One thing is for certain – I cannot keep working, and living where I am. It is not healthy for me in any way, shape, or form. I must prioritize quality friendships ASAP. I will leave it at this for now as I reminisce on my June jaunts, and as I daydream about all the adventures I hope to embark on before I leave beautiful Bavaria.

  Q: Have you recently made a difficult change that you knew was necessary?

  

  | 13 Comments Tagged Brittanys Life Abroad, Garmisch, Germany, Hiking

• Kamikaze Kramer

  Posted at 2:00 PM by Brittany, on June 18, 2020

  Kamikaze – “having or showing reckless disregard for safety or personal welfare.”

  Yea, that sounds about right. Where do I even being…

  Last September, my friend (and former roommate) MaryBeth and I decided to hike one of the mountains behind where we live. As I mentioned in this post, I had been eyeing this mountain since the day I arrived so we decided it was finally time. If you read the post I linked, you will know our attempt was unsuccessful, so we decided to try summiting the mountain from the other side – hoping it would be less scary.

  Spoiler: It was not.

  

  Cross marks the summit.

  I’ll start from the beginning. The day we gave the Kramer a second chance was beautiful. The sun was shining, the temperatures were warm, and it was a complete 180 in weather from our first attempt. I was feeling good, my body was ready, and I was excited to see a new to me route (the Kramer literally has never ending trails.)

  The route we chose this time was a bit longer in distance, but was supposed to be less sketchy once closer to the top. This route also has a well known Hütte called Stepbergalm a little over halfway up, and we had both been wanting to see it/grab a bite or a drink. The day we hiked was the day the Hütte reopened after temporary closure due to the Coronavirus.

  Everything was lining up – it was going to be a great day…

  

  Stepbergalm – 1592 m

  

  The hike to the Stepbergalm took us about 2 hours and 20 minutes. The trail up was beautiful and moderately inclined. I never felt unsafe, and my anxiety was low. I was smiling, and singing, and relishing in the beauty of the mountains surrounding me.

  

  I was also savoring this time with MaryBeth. I knew she would be moving out soon, and this was likely our last hike together in Garmisch. She moved to Ulm a couple weeks after this hike, which is just a short two hour-ish train ride from Garmisch. I plan to visit her before I move back to the states, and hope for one more weekend getaway together.

  

  

  MaryBeth was nothing short of a blessing to me while living in Germany. She was not only my roommate, but my best friend. She got me through difficult times at work, difficult times at “home,” and was an all around amazing adventure partner. We managed to travel to six countries together, and I know we will be travel buddies for life.

  Divagations aside, back to the story.

  Upon arrival at the Stepbergalm, we sat and savored a snack before completing the final push towards the cross at the summit. The estimated time to the summit was an hour and 45 minutes from the Stepbergalm. I was still feeling great, and was confident we would summit with ease.

  And thennnn the rocks got larger and looser and I suddenly regretted denying the use of hiking poles. 

  

  This guy died on my birthday in 1930 – is this some kind of bad omen?

  Going up with loose rock isn’t usually an issue, it’s coming back down that makes me nervous. Naturally when going up, all I can think about is how stressful it will be to come back down. We reached a section of the trail that was surrounded by trees without any sudden drop offs, so imminent death was not a concern, but I was still getting anxious.

  We passed the section of large loose rocks and falsely believed we were in the clear. The path flattened out for a bit, and although the trail was thin, it was stable. We began laughing again, we settled into a comfortable pace, we savored the views we were starting to see, but then as quickly as it returned my ataraxia was swept back under the rug.

  

  

  

  We saw the cross off in the distance, but something in my gut told me this was not going to be a cake walk to the summit. The slim path was now becoming a roller coaster like track of ups and downs and the loose gravel was back. I suddenly became very aware of how high I was, and how unsafe I was starting to feel. Kamikaze Kramer.

  We quickly learned it didn’t matter which route we took to the top, they were all equipped with a frightening trail towards the final push. Our pace slowed to a crawl, and at one point I was literally immobile, clinging to a large rock. I began laughing, similar to the beginning stages of hysteria, and told MaryBeth I wasn’t sure I could keep moving.

  

  

  I managed to push past my rock of safety, but my body was shaking as if I had spent all night out in the cold. I don’t often feel this amount of fear when I am hiking, but all I could think about was how one wrong step would send me slipping, and the exiguous trail left me envisioning the worst.

  And then, just when we thought it couldn’t get any worse we saw her. The sheer rock wall to the summit. Fully equipped with loose gravel. The summit was surrounded by people, and I wondered if any of them had to revert back to infancy like MaryBeth and I while crawling up the side of a mountain.

  I could feel the eyes of those at the summit watching me move at the pace of a sloth, and I wondered if they could sense my fear. If we had been a different species of animal they would have been able to smell my freight from miles away.

  

  We decided to skip the sheer rock wall, and promptly sat at the base of the final stretch. I once again had no desire to “touch the cross” indicating I reached the summit. We had reached the elevation of the summit, and as far as I am concerned we summited. We sat at the base of the cross for a good ten minutes anticipating the descent.

  We sat at the base of the cross because we were both too fearful to move back down what we had just gone up. 

  I prayed for us (yeah, we were that scared) and off we went. I scooted on my butt for the portion of the trail that has a sharp drop with loose rocks, and when I found my way back to my rock of safety I felt relief. I struggled more going up, and MaryBeth struggled more going down. She became immobile at one point, but eventually mustered the courage to continue.

  

  We finally made it back to the first sketchy path just past the Stepbergalm and after seeing the summit I no longer thought this area was sketchy. My perspective was immediately altered. We made it to the Stepbergalm just as they were closing, and our hopes of having a post hike drink blew away with the wind between the trees.

  We sat on the hill by the Stepbergalm to eat some food, and to mentally prepare for the two and a half hours of hiking we had left. 

  

  At this point I managed to switch my laughter from hysterical to “what the hell did we just do.” I couldn’t help but wonder why no one else I’ve spoken to has been phased by the sketchiness of the summit. Were we the only two people to find this hike terrifying at the top? I never realized how afraid of heights I was until this hike.

  Needless to say, I will never hike this mountain again, and I no longer have a desire to hike the Zugspitze (Germanys tallest mountain, which is also in my backyard.) I have realized my preferred hiking is the kind where I don’t feel my life is in danger. I don’t enjoy kamikaze hiking!

  Most people wouldn’t be as dramatic as I have been in this post, but these were my feelings throughout this hike. 

  

  The views from the “safe” part near the summit were mind-blowing, and the valley where the Stepbergalm lives is like something out of the Sound of Music. I would happily hike to the Stepbergalm again, just to sit and savor the valley, but 10/10 would not do the summit ever again.

  As I get older I have become more in tune with my intuition and my “gut voice” when I feel unsafe. This hike had my gut doing backflips like a gold medal gymnast, and I was happy to skip the last 5 minutes of this hike. I regret nothing, and this is now a comical memory I become overly dramatic about when discussing with my peers.

  I’ll never forget the Kamikaze Kramer.

  Q: Would you need to go right next to the cross to consider this a summit, or would you still feel you completed the hike without the final few steps?

  

  | 29 Comments Tagged Bavaria, Brittanys Life Abroad, Hiking, Kramer

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