The less I needed, the better I felt – Charles Bukowski
Whitefish, MT. A great place to be stuck in. I arrived here after I hitched a few rides, meeting some generous people and seeing a doctor in West Glacier. With busted knees, you got that right.
Waking up at Reynolds Creek at 5 am, one of the designated sites in Glacier National Park. It had rained throughout most of the night but I was warm, dry and safe in my little Big Agnes shelter. The rain had finally stopped. The forest was still damp and the birds started singing their songs. The rustle of Reynolds Creek audible in the distance. I was alone. Did my morning chores: broke down the tent, brushed my teeth, peed, pulled down the food bag, which was hanging on a rail between two trees, to keep the odorous items in it away from the grizzlies at night. At 5.30, I was back on the trail, ready to make my way to Atlantic Creek, a 25 mile hike over Triple Divide Pass. But after taking a couple of steps over the cruiser trail, I knew that was not going to happen.
I felt a sharp pain in both of my knees. I grabbed some Vitamin I (Ibuprofen) and told myself to keep on hiking for at least another hour blasting tunes on my phone in the meantime to keep me going. Descending down a gentle slope brought me already over the edge, in tears. I have a quite high pain tolerance, and I’m used to pushing my way through no problem. But this time that was just not an option. Deliberating what to do I then decided to hike back. Something I never did before. Hiking back, giving up, who does that?! Luckily, I was quite near the Going To The Sun Road, which crosses Glacier National Park. Back at the road a lovely couple with three dogs generously offered me a ride to a clinic in West Glacier, which I gladly accepted.
Yes, my journey gets more interesting by the minute. Busting both of my knees after hiking 3 days through stunning Glacier National Park. The trail was cruiser, I didn’t push myself, did low mileage days, never had any problems with my knees before… so what was going on? I feel that I was stopped by something and the only thing left to do was surrender and rest, exactly the thing I don’t want to do.
My younger sister messaged me today: Your strategy (going into the wilderness on my own) doesn’t work anymore. Then she wrote: Now it’s time to go on an inner journey. You’re allowed to be good to yourself; I know you’re not used to this because you were always so hard and demanding on yourself.
Right on. So here I am, in the public library of this cute mountain town called Whitefish, writing this post. I cannot walk, man you should see me limping my way around town! But the weirdest thing is: I’m totally cool with that.
I feel so good, happy, strong and confident.
I’m back to square one where I told myself to not have a plan in the first place, to take it all step by step, day by day and see what might come up, what would feel right. It’s scary to be out here by myself, to not have a plan or goal. But it’s what feels right and true for me.
I’m learning to love myself. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but the biggest gift I can give to myself.
On my headphones now: