The beginning of this adventure to the Sawtooth Mountains started the Saturday before my trip.  I received a call from one of my co-workers informing me that one of the twins I was one of the primary nurses for had passed away at 5pm that evening. Still in shock Monday morning, I woke up early and got on the road by 4am to drive to the trailhead. The nine-ish hour drive seemed to go by in a flash.

I left the parking lot in a foggy daze. Not only did I feel distracted from the lack of processing this lil’ one’s death, but my arms felt really weak. A few days prior to the trip, my younger brother, my dad, and I had been laying sod which had apparently caused my muscles to feel like noodles. And then, just like that, my overthinking brain took over: “Should I just turn around, or cut my trip short?” “Will I be able to make it this year?” Am I really that out of shape to feel this weak?” These questions didn’t stop me, instead they motivated me to move step by step to Alice and Twin lakes. I couldn’t wait to take the heavy pack off my back. Alice Lake, the icon of this trail, was a sight for my sore eyes and body. Once taking a breather at the lake, I gathered up all the strength I could muster to continue hiking one more mile uphill to Twin Lakes. I was beyond excited to jump into my sleeping bag that night and fell right to sleep. The wind awoke me a couple times throughout the night, but I was able to drift back to sleep.

The next morning, I slipped right into my backpacking routine: wake-up, pack-up sleeping bag/tent, go pee, retrieve my bear canister, eat breakfast, pack the rest of my gear, and hit the trail. Surprisingly, I didn’t feel as weak as I had the previous day, which gave me motivation during the summit to the mountain peak. That was motivation as well as the fun snacks I packed for the summits. At the top, my eyes were finally satisfied after longing to see these mountains for months. The gorgeous views calmed my soul and made me feel as if I was home.

The next four miles were filled with meeting other backpackers, crossing streams/waterfalls, and then eating lunch. Hiking up to the summit pass was a bit sketchy with loud booms of thunder and dark clouds closing in. My thoughts kept drifting back to the lil’ babe and how strong he was for living to be two months old. I figured that if he was able to survive and fight that long then I could continue hiking and finish this backpacking trip. My motivation to get to the top of Sands Mountain Pass in good time was elevated by thunder and quick moving clouds. I was hoping to make it to the lake before a downpour. While moving up to the pass, each sound of thunder peaked my anxiety, then relaxed after seeing no lightning. I made it to the lake safely, set up my tent just moments before it started to rain. The rain didn’t last more than an hour. After the brief summer storm, I was able to try out my mini fishing pole I had brought along. No, I didn’t catch any fish. Sadly, my lures got caught on a log and a rock and I ended up having to cut my line. After my unsuccessful fishing experience, I fixed dinner and had a relaxing evening journaling.

The next morning, I hiked back up the pass where I met a group of six older adults from the East Coast. We chatted for a little while before I continued to the summit and down the other side of the mountain. The second summit of the day was on the way to Imogene Lake which took lots of concentration and focus. The steep switchbacks made it a little tricky while feeling fatigued. I reminded myself to take breaks and focus on one switch back at a time. Finally, down at the lake, I met a group of five men in their 30’s and they asked permission to camp close by my camp site. My gut instinct told me they were safe and harmless, so I agreed to let them stay. After they settled in, I joined them and watched as they caught and released brown trout. After chatting for a while I went back to my campsite, took a swim, napped, and journaled.

At first, I thought the trail would be a good place to process the death of the lil’ babe I took care of in the NICU, but to my surprise I felt like I needed to focus more on the trails to avoid tripping.  I thought about how many coworkers truly came to adore this lil’ guy. Taking care of him was downright terrifying at times and kept me on alert throughout my entire shift. But caring for him was something I would not have changed for anything. He has inspired me in more ways than he will ever know.

The next day, I woke up before the crack of dawn and packed up all my gear in the dark. I started up the trail before 0500 with nothing but my headlight lighting up the trail ahead of me. I made to the top of the summit, before 0600 to see the beginning of the sunrise peak just over the mountains. The wind at the top was icy cold in the early morning light. The next nine miles that morning went by surprisingly very fast. My goal was to make it to the main river crossing by 0800 and surprisingly, I made it there by 0810. I quickly exchanged my hiking boots with my Chaco sandals and waded into the river. The current was faster than anticipated and my trekking poles almost broke, but thankfully they held up. The last mile was uphill and always the worst. At this point, I was thoroughly exhausted and just ready to be finished. I was beyond excited to see the sight of my car back at the parking lot. Finally, another successful year of solo-backpacking under my belt.

To me, this trip held lots of time to reflect and time to just be. I hope all those reading this will find inspiration and motivation for your next adventure.