September has crept in, and school has commenced. I hate to be nostalgic but I am always nostalgic, so here I go, clinging onto one of many adventures of this past summer. Terry-Dayne and I are explorers. And after doing our first exploration of 8 European countries this past summer, we decided to uncover the beauties of our own back gardens. The Howe Sound Crest Trail had been on our check list for a while, and a bad habit of ours has been to fantasize  the infamous day when we are going to do epic things. So, we pulled ourselves together and snagged a few days off work to explore the trip from Cypress to Porteau Cove, which taught me a lot more than I had anticipated.

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All I could see were roots. And dirt. Roots and dirt had been my closest companions for the last hour. It was a tight trail that seemed practically parallel to myself, and yesterday’s raindrops that were perched on the leaves of the blueberry bushes were decorating the better part of me. We had been hiking for around 8 hours, and it still felt as though we were no closer to where we needed to go. I looked up. Roots and dirt. Each step I was growing slightly heavier, and hoisting myself up the steep climb was becoming more difficult. My mouth was bone dry and I knew we wouldn’t have anymore water for at least another hour. “Ella, your body can’t take this. You are not strong,” my mind would remind me with the utmost pleasure. “You should just stop here, you can do the rest tomorrow”. It was a constant battle of whether or not to stop and breathe, with the possible chance that resuming the climb would be just a little bit harder. I felt like crying. I felt helpless to the climb, to the mountain and to the wilderness. I felt the jaws of the peak, chewing me up, preparing to spit me out and send me flying back down to the bottom. I felt my happiness, and my motivation deflate and degrade, and inevitably disappear.

You forget how hard the journey is going to be. We all talk about climbing mountains and doing epic shit. It sounds so great when we talk about, about the magical feeling of being in nature and one with the evergreens. Eating fresh blueberries and cooling down in a glacial lake. The magnificent views and the cozy tents with a cup of tea in our new compact hammock is what we salivate over and brag to our friends about. But when you put on that big backpack that holds your life for the next couple days, and look up that hill, you probably won’t be seeing no hammocks or freshly brewed tea. Maybe try endless root ladders and burning quads.

The minute you step into the trees, there is no hiding. No hiding from the elements and no hiding from yourself. You are exhausted and tired, you hurt and you sting, and then you come face to face with someone familiar; someone who is most likely standing in your path. You have a good long chat, maybe get a little frustrated, but then you realize that that person is amazing. They set out on this journey, this epic exploration when they could be perched on the couch eating popcorn. This person is strong, and despite what anyone thinks, they made it this far and they can make it to end. That person is you.

I grab the next rung of the never ending root ladder. Despite my discomfort, I had to keep going. Because that what we do. We keep going. I looked up no longer to dirt and roots, but to blue sky. We had conquered the peak, and I could feel the fresh breeze on my nose. The most magnificent scene panned out before us; I could barely speak at the sight of it. Terry-Dayne gave me a kiss, and congratulated me on the climb. The moment was saturated with hard work and a more than satisfying view. We looked forward to see two more peaks in our path, looking rather similar to one we had just practically given our souls to. Take a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other. “One down, three to go”.

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“ I love adventure. Not to “challenge myself” as others like to say, but to reveal myself to myself. There’s a clarity that comes after 10 hours of straight physical exertion that is better than any drug (at least any I did when I was hiding behind the bleachers in high school) and cheaper than any therapy. It’s an unfiltered view inside of oneself.” Matt Ruscigno

(P.S. ^This is adventure hiker man Terry-Dayne)