Tag Archives: Hiking for emotional well-being

What is Real?

April 21, 2018 Cherry Leave a comment

She lounged on one queen-size bed in the rustic motel room and stared at the ceiling. “Tomorrow we go back to the real world,” she sighed.

“What is real?” I said, echoing the plaintive question of the velveteen rabbit. For 48 hours we had hiked in nature. Ten miles on Saturday. Ten miles again on Sunday. Not bad for two women over 60. Was that not real? Was it not intensely real that first day when I summited the canyon toward the ruin, feeling famished and hungry and ready to break into my lunch in the shadow of ancient dwellings, only to turn and see that she had fallen 50 yards behind; short of breath, cold and clammy and at the same time hot and sweaty. She sat to rest and I had nothing to offer her but water – which she also carried. We soaked a bandana and mopped her face. That was real. So real that we altered our plans for the next day to take a less strenuous – but equally long-trail.

Was it not real thrashing through the undergrowth, hair and glasses and arms snagged in unwelcoming branches, just to find a secluded place to relieve myself? Earthy smells. Musty leaves, damp creek beds, cottonwoods, pinyon pines and junipers. These are not real? Blue skies and biting winds and being thankful for a hiking partner because there are places in Bullet Canyon you simply cannot boost yourself when you are 5’3” or even 5’7.”

“Is this the real world, or is it fantasy?” For two days we saw no one but the occasional avid hiker. For each other we acted as human hand rails, pushed, pulled and otherwise offered a hand; shuttled back packs, assisted in withdrawing snacks from top zippered compartments and intentionally went looking for solitude and beauty.

BEAR'S EARS - THE EARS THEMSELVES. March, 2017 — BEAR’S EARS – THE EARS THEMSELVES. March, 2017

Cedar Mesa, The Bears Ears; this was the real world for the ancient ones. The place they raised their children, ground their food, set a look-out, struggled each day to provide and survive. And the struggle was real. Yet, for us, it is a place of restoration – her favorite place to get away on vacation.

Tomorrow we go back to the real world. Out of necessity we spend our days at the office. In the city. In a place where we struggle each day to provide and survive. We set a lookout for intruders and competitors. We perceive our real world as the world of a more advanced civilization, yet when we get away we escape to a more primitive world.

Two real worlds with the challenge of survival and provision and protection in common, is there not more to ponder? Is it a real world without Nature? Without Art? Without Music? Without relationships? We go beyond mere survival.

We build. We communicate. We make art. A very real world, indeed!

Health and Long Life

Two headlamps is always a good idea

February 11, 2018 Cherry Leave a comment

4:48 pm

Without slacking my pace I turned and headed back up the wash the way I had come. I was at least an hour out from the car and the sun would set before six. Twenty-five minutes later I arrived at the spot where I first said, “Just one more bend, I’ll just go around one more bend and see what’s up ahead. We wouldn’t want to turn back now, Self, when there might be a lake inlet just around the bend.”

It was Super Hike Sunday and I started my hike late, very late, after lunching with friends. Once I circumvented the white pothole pour-off via the mini-talus slopes, I set off at a good clip down the level wash that is Wire Grass Trail. I wanted to hike until I saw something beautiful, until I felt good, until I was winded, until I no longer felt fat from lunch and the many desserts I have comforted myself with this week.

I did see something beautiful. An arch. I interrupted my momentum only long enough to take a picture. More beauty. I wanted more. I began to feel good again. I never did get winded so I kept on, chasing the sunlight and then chasing the shadow, always, always aware of where the sun was on the horizon.

At 5:58 pm on my return trip I reached the slope where I first clocked the sun at 3:45 pm to gauge if I really had time to do the hike. That was the moment I realized I needed two headlamps. I know, I know, one should be enough, but I have been using my headlamp for early morning walks and I left it setting on the table when I shouldered my daypack; that daypack where the headlamp should -and usually does-reside. Knowing that it is still too early in the year to get much daylight after 4:00 pm, I thought to turn back near the beginning of the trailhead when I first realized my headlamp was home in the kitchen. But I also knew I carried a small flashlight tucked into the first aid kit.

6:03 pm said my cell phone when I arrived at the car. The sun was down, yet still remained the daylight. Whew! It’s not that I am afraid of the dark, I’m just afraid of feeling helpless, afraid of causing someone the bother of coming to find me. I am feeling fine. My toes are sore. My biceps ache from swinging my hiking poles, but I am not winded. It’s going to be a great spring for hiking! For putting one foot in front of the other; for not slackening my pace. How about you?

Emotional Health, Health and Long Life

I have some explaining to do…

February 4, 2018 Cherry Leave a comment

I walked over to the liquor store today to post some letters and when I came out the door and headed toward home, the lake water was so blue it called to me. So I took a big sip from my bottle, and seeing there were no cows on the other side today; crawled through the fence onto National Park System property. Actually, I am not quite sure if I was hiking on NPS managed land or ranchland as I made my way toward the lake, but I have a park pass so I figure I am legal. I am only about a mile from Lake Powell as the crow flies. As often happens in Page, the lines are a little blurred.

Only one paragraph in and if you know me at all, I bet I have some explaining to do.

Page Arizona has no residential door-to-door mail delivery, nor rural routes. Everyone has a PO box. I live in an upscale community about 9 miles north of Page. The two communities share the same zip code. We are each assigned a post office box. The Greenehaven boxes are housed in the last convenience store before the highway enters Utah. And it so happens; being this convenience store is in close proximity to Lake Powell and Lone Rock, and Lone Rock is a location famous for spring breaks and arrests; the most convenient item the store-turned-post office panders is liquor.

I had planned to return straight home and write but the weather was delightful. A light spring breeze was blowing. Birds were chirping. I was prepared with my water bottle and cell-phone because I had walked to the mart. The lake was beckoning me. The water was blue, Air Force blue. And so I crawled through the fence.

Crawled through the fence? Yes. Without ripping my shirt or my pants on the barbed wire. When I first got to Page I was afraid to do this so I spent my time hiking on roads; paved, gravel, dirt; seeing nothing but dust and hearing nothing but off-road vehicles. Over the months I found that National Recreation Areas are managed differently than National Parks. Cattle still graze here. I have met the grazing ranger for the Park Service. Plus, BLM rangers basically say, “This land is your land. Go make your own trail. Be sure and take a map.”

Today, I hiked about a mile cross-desert toward the lake. I meandered along the rim of an arroyo turned slot canyon. I saw no cattle, but bovine hoof-prints were fresh – as were coyote, rabbit, and assorted rodent prints. I saw two tiny lizards scurrying to re-provision on the opportune sunny day.

On the way back, it was warm and I rolled up my pant legs, wishing I had worn zip-offs and sandals rather than skinny leg levis and smart wool socks. Then it was hot and I removed my shirt, tied it around my waist and hiked on in my short-sleeve T-shirt. Imagine that, so warm on February 3 that I am sweaty and will need another shower when I get home.

Arriving at the fence once again, I turned around and looked at the lake. The water now appeared shimmering pearl gray. You can almost tell what time of day it is – or what season – by the shade of blue reflected in the water.

It took less than two hours, and I have benefitted greatly by crawling through a fence and putting one foot in front of the other. Did you remember to get outside today?

The Lone Rock / Wahweep area of Lake Powell looking up lake and toward Navajo Mountain in the distance — The Lone Rock / Wahweap area of Lake Powell looking uplake and toward Navajo Mountain in the distance

Emotional Health, Goals and Dreams, Health and Long Life, Uncategorized

Thanksgiving Eve

November 23, 2017 Cherry Leave a comment

It was just another work related reconnaissance field trip. Three administrative staff in a well-equipped Jeep picked up a designated Park photographer and headed off into the dust. After a circuitous and scenic route past Wiregrass Canyon and Warm Creek Bay and a bumpy crawl over some slick rock we arrived at our destination: Alstrom Point. From the point we could look toward Gunsight Butte, Tower Butte, Castle Rock, or overlook the Crossing of the Fathers.

Silently we fanned out in all directions, each seeking our own favorite perspective and meditative silence.

30 minutes later I made a panoramic scan of the edges of the perimeter of the peninsula. There we sat in the vastness and lengthening shadows, four Parcheesi players, little round knobs for heads, Hersey kiss-shaped bodies perched on ledges 200 yards away, spread out across the landscape of Alstrom Point, waiting for sunset photos and the magic light.

Twilight advanced bringing us all closer to the common shelter of the Jeep. We talked some, traded tidbits of information, listened to the click of a dark sky camera, toured the night-sky via a phone ap, enjoyed each and every constellation, satellite and planet we could identify. Down layers kept us comfortably warm until time to efficiently fold and stow all the gear.

There are places of great beauty in this world. Sometimes it is too hot, or too cold, or too difficult to get there. Other times, serendipity smiles on you and a magic carpet rings your doorbell.

This year I am not at Needles Canyonlands near Creeksgiving. I am not near Colorado National Monument with many options for a morning hike. I am not near a beach in the Northwest for a misty morning walk. In fact, I am not near anything or anyone with whom I usually spend this fourth Thursday in November. No one is coming to visit me. Yet, I had an incredible Thanksgiving Eve.

Wishing you the blessing of beauty for all your holidays!

Emotional Health, Health and Long Life, Uncategorized

Crying in the forest

October 8, 2017 Cherry Leave a comment

It has been awhile. Too long actually. And with the passage of time comes inevitably the melancholy when the memory is revisited. It is has been too long since she hiked in a pine forest, Ponderosa Pine to be specific. Each step forward, each thought, each memory is enough to make her cry. The Sunshine filtering through the needle laden branches, the soughing and lowing-strong but not howling-is urgent in the wind and she cries for what was, feels a touch of anguish for what could have been and was not. Every sensation she feels calls her to weep. The present beauty is devastating. It evokes memories of what has passed. She realizes, even as she puts one foot in front of the other, she is still clinging to the past, still trying to figure out how to fix what went wrong, how to make things right. Perhaps it is time to let go of the past and move into the future-her very own future. The fresh air and evergreen trees seem to nudge her forward. But the thought of what the future can be is painfully dazzling. Can she really leave the past behind? Is it right to let go and move forward?

Twenty steps forward the beauty subtly changes. Without warning she steps into a part of the woods that has been ravaged by fire. Scorched from the ground up to about 20 feet high on the bark of the pines. Burned pieces of log litter the ground like the remains of a giant’s campfire. It is not clear who or what started the fire. It happened. Yet, there is still beauty here. She notices that the trees grew, continued to move forward. Forgetting what was behind – unashamed of their blackened scorched trunks –the trees were green at the top, reaching toward the sky without slackening their pace. Brilliant fall-colored foliage peaked out here and there along the ground. She stops in her tracks to contemplate. If the forest can survive a fire and move on, so can I. So can you.

Emotional Health, Health and Long Life, Uncategorized

The best season ever

September 22, 2017 Cherry Leave a comment

It is fall and I am nearly giddy. Something broke in me yesterday. Some chain or bondage or oppression – I think it was the heat. Today I took my morning walk and rejoiced at being alive, stopped and talked with my neighbors, started to think I will survive this leg of my life’s journey. Over these past 10 years of being alone and single, I have often pointed out that Nature loves you back. I go for a walk; I am refreshed. I take a long hike; I am restored. Yes. Nature loves me, feeds me and cares for me. But Nature does not coddle. Nature can be brutal. This year I have been in the desert. This year I felt Nature abused me with the heat – and then turned around and comforted me with a lake. But that is behind me now. The weather has turned. It is nearly time for sweaters and hoodies. Definitely time to plan those long weekend hikes to all the beautiful places.

Emotional Health, Uncategorized

Crème Brûlée and the Great Outdoors

July 2, 2017 Cherry Leave a comment

It was a familiar, though unwelcome, feeling. There were things she couldn’t fix. Too many things. Challenges without recourse. Problems without solutions. Insidiously, the depression crept in. Numbing of emotion. Flat-lining of feeling. No dreams, no desire for anything.

Instinctively she retreated to the beauty of nature – a long hike in the wilderness. The remedy learned with the wisdom of years.

It was wiltingly hot when she locked the car and started out, but she was headed for a shady glen. A sandy trail led into a canyon, crisscrossed a gurgling stream. Moss-covered rocks lay calm and green in the water. Up ahead sandstone mountains sported a variety of coniferous vegetation and a burst of blue sky.

Each step was refreshment. Return of vigor of thought. Hope for the future.

Typically she could judge distance by the state of her emotions. It usually took about a mile for the tension to begin to loosen- sometimes two.

About a mile and a half out she turned. The afternoon was waning. Finding the end of the canyon would have to wait for another time. Then, just like clockwork, her appetite returned. Appetite – the signal of lifting depression. This time she craved crème brûlée or custard or flan. She hungered. But not for egg rolls – her usual fantasy food.

“How odd,” she thought, “right out here in the wild and I can almost smell dessert cooking, wafting warm and sweet from the kitchen.”

It was then she realized she was striding through a stand of ponderosa pine, inhaling great gulps of air two feet away from thick sun-warmed trunks. And ponderosa are known by their faint vanilla scent.

Dream on, Happy Wanderer. And may all your desires and appetites be healthful.

Uncategorized

I smiled yesterday

June 19, 2017 Cherry Leave a comment

I smiled yesterday. Smiled despite the excessive heat and the gritty dust and sand and the annoying no see ums. I smiled and it felt a little strange, a little different than the furrowed brow and stressed frown that has become part of my office attire. I smiled involuntarily because I went out to meet Nature and I found her. I found the road less traveled. And yet that road-cautioned as unimproved – was actually a well- graded dirt road that led to somewhere; somewhere famous and beautiful. Grosvenor Arch is about 20 miles from Cannonville, Utah in Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument. It is featured on a sticker that I buy and sell hundreds of regularly – one of those stickers for National Parks Passport Books. It is beautiful. Grosvenor Arch is named after Gilbert Hovey Grosvenor – known as the father of photojournalism – the president of National Geographic Society – and a friend of National Parks. Grosvenor Arch is situated fittingly as a neighbor to Kodachrome Basin State Park.

And here’s the thing; Grovesnor Arch is way out there on the dirt road, yet there is a sign. More noticeably, there is a concrete path that leads from the parking area up towards the arch. This path has resting benches along the way. The path is intentionally constructed and maintained to lead visitors to the best possible view of the arch – the photographer’s perspective. The path ends in a pedestrian cul-de-sac that clearly indicates “stand here.” “Take a photo here.” And still Nature beckons me deeper into the juniper forest, the cool cleft of the rock. Beauty restores. Nature refreshes. And Nature makes me smile.

Emotional Health

Getting Back Your Best Game

May 27, 2017 Cherry Leave a comment

She was new to this place and it had been a grueling two months. The face in the mirror looked her age – no longer youthful and refreshed. She had slipped into working every day of her life (again) in a mad bid to catch up, to get settled, to get a grip. BTDT in her twenties. Sometimes you have to pull out all the stops for a season – but she knew it was now time to get her game back.

She insisted on a half day off. It was only herself she argued with. She made herself take it. Half day out of seven, but it was a start in the right direction. She took a long hike. She sloshed her feet through the sand and water at the edge of the river and let the rushing water chill the raging worry and the work addiction within her. She sat on a rock in perfect spring sunshine. It turned out to be a comfortable rock – so comfortable she leaned back and closed her eyes and hazarded letting her mind drift like the gently gurgling riffle.

How long had it been since she said that phrase, “These are the best years of my life?” She used to mean it. Now life felt suspiciously like some of the earlier years; grasping, gasping for survival.

She longed to laugh at a well-turned phrase, to feel the wind of adventure in her face, to see and hear new beauty.

“Take a look back,” she said to herself, “What were you doing? When was the last time you felt, really felt you were at the top of your game? The last time you said with sincerity, ‘These are the best years’?”

She remembered those deeply spiritually reviving days of living on the edge of beautiful places, of hiking before the heat of the day, of watching a sunrise, of strolling a beach at sunset. Times of letting nature nourish and nurture.

Those were the times she was dating herself; taking herself to an event or a concert-traveling – finding how to love herself so she might in turn love her neighbor as herself.

Those were the times she was eating with thought and care and great appetite for the healthful.

Those were the times she tucked into bed at a comfortable hour and woke naturally without necessity of an alarm or agenda.

So now, lounging on the rock like a lizard, she pondered, “How did I get to that soul- healthy position in the first place?” Part of it was a product of a resolution to live the next 365 days as though they were all she had. Part of it was allowing herself to be steeped in music and art.

She had a well-balanced brain and at one time had made the decision to live more fully in her right brain – her creative brain – with her organized left brain always guiding her. Now she wondered if it was possible to live in her left brain – forge ahead in organizational success –while letting her right brain guide her. It was a grand experiment.

She didn’t want to give up the corporate part of life – the paycheck. Some of the best times of life to be had are times when you share with others. Her one big reason for having a job, for making money, was to have something to share.

But now she knew it was time to nourish and nurture that spiritual side again. Not all day. Not in lieu of the practical, but every single day in tandem with the practical.

More nature

More exercise out of doors

More music

More love

Less addiction to work stress and more commitment to working smart

Managing smarter

Embracing the beauty in work

Mini vacations

Why do you work? What do you love? What nurtures and nourishes your soul?

Character, Emotional Health, Hiking and Outdoor Beauty

A hiking mentor

October 23, 2016 Cherry Leave a comment

I live here, but I am new.

She is my guest, but she has been here many times before.

I am getting acquainted with all the trails and only take the long ones on weekends – days off from work.

She knows this place like the back of her hand.

I live in housing with four walls and have not yet camped seven miles out under the stars.

She has spent many October birthday weeks 4 X 4 camping at the end of Salt Creek and taking daily forays further into the wilderness.

Salt Creek is closed to wheeled vehicles now, open only to those visitors on foot. But she remembers exploring after hearty dinners around the campfire.

She is older than I – not much-but her memory is sharp. Her memories are good. Very good. This is her favorite place.

Now she is showing me around, introducing me to my own neighborhood. “Right over this hill,” she says, “right around this rock, I found a couple granaries and pictographs I don’t think the rangers know about. Over there, you can see a panel if you have binoculars. The ranger pointed that out, but I have never seen it.”

There are other things she teaches me too, like how to eat well while hiking or camping. What to prepare. Which items to bring. What footwear to choose.

Hiking alone is always inspiring. Wandering is fine. But sooner or later you need a hiking mentor to show you the good stuff.

I doubt I will ever attain her status – the ability to cook chicken cacciatore for eight and then pack it to the hut on Nordic skis.

But I do aspire to her confidence and belief in the abilities of others. Also, her calm patience when backtracking for a lost camera. The camera that carelessly slipped from my pocket and to the ground right after I took the eagle picture. The backtrack that added an extra mile to the ten for which I had steeled myself. The backtrack that we felt acutely in the heat of the day on the last two miles that terminated our trek and restored us to hot running water.

Never-the-less, we venture on another trail today, unflagging. Well-guided. Mentored. Ever learning.

Cherry Odelberg