Olivia Fortner
Stories (1/0)
First Sunset
” How glorious a greeting the sun gives the mountains” - John Muir I took this photo on my first night hiking the John Muir Trail solo from Bishop Pass in California. It was a long day of hiking with a 40-pound pack on my back, with everything I would need for the next 9~ days. I was overwhelmed, wondering if I could do this. My mind was racing, and I could not focus on the backcountry meal I was attempting to make. I was snapped out of my haze by a fawn running through my campsite. At that point I was on high alert. I was in bear country, specifically black bear country, and everyone knows that when you see a fawn running a black bear must be close behind. Baby deer are the only animal a black bear will hunt for sport. Luckily, the bear never got close enough for me to see it, since they tend to be a bit spooked by humans, but I’m sure he wanted to keep chasing that fawn. After the scare of potentially meeting a bear on my first night in the backcountry, my mind continued down the rabbit hole. I was alone in the wilderness; no friends and no parents. Just me and my mind. Growing up I struggled with anxiety and depression, with separation anxiety being the most prominent. The next subject of examination in my solitude was my recent breakup. About 3 months before my hike, the love of my life broke my heart. I spent 6 months naively hoping and wishing he would fall in love with me. We both knew from the start that he was not intending to fall in love with me. Yet, we did everything together. He was the one who got me into rock climbing. He gave me the confidence I needed to feel capable of backpacking long distances alone. He inspired me and pushed me to grow as a human, but I was just a body to him. It slowly started dawning on me over the months that it was coming to an end, but I clenched my fists trying to hold on to the man slipping through my fingers. And then, it was over. He said, “I don’t want to date you anymore.” I was calm and expressed everything I was feeling, but once he got up to hug me goodbye, I lost it; I was shaking and sobbing into his cold shoulder. I let him go and it was over. The following months consisted of swells of loneliness, fear, and anger between the calming self-realization and development of my Zen Buddhist practice. Before I completely lost my grounding, I reminded myself that I had dinner to eat, preventing me from falling all the way down the rabbit hole. My meal was cold by the time I got around to eating it once my paranoia and overthinking subsided, but that was okay. I just needed some food in my belly. Once I set up camp and began to settle down at my temporary home, I was filled with motivation and energy. I looked around slowly, admiring the beauty Mother Earth has created for me and letting myself feel the peace of the surrounding nature. The beauty that I was experiencing alone. “Of course, I can do this” I thought. I knew I had all the supplies and mental strength necessary to succeed. The sunset that night was particularly special on the still waters of the neighboring lake as I felt truly ready to take on whatever challenges the trail would throw at me. . The next 9~ days I had countless doubts, anxieties, scares, and stressors. I had the aching pain in my heart while also a worsening case of tendonitis in my Achilles heel. My pack was heavy, the hiking was hard, and I wasn’t sleeping well. Still, it was the most alive I’ve felt in years. I felt the suffering and I embraced the adversity. I was as ready as I could have ever been. I felt the most like me as I ever have. I felt beautiful. Before I was even finished, I knew I needed to go back as soon as life would allow. I am currently planning my next trip to the John Muir Trail, but this time, I’m going to walk the whole 220 miles. Just me, the trail, my whole life on my back, moving forward.
By Olivia Fortner4 years ago in Wander