I admit it: I grew up a horse girl. My cousin’s family owned a nearby equestrian farm and most of my childhood memories involve running in tall grass, riding horses on trails, and caring for animals. I always felt more connected to myself when I was outside.
Plant the seeds of the PCT
I entered university wanting to be an environmental lawyer, but after a law course, I decided that was not for me. Since I didn’t have a clear path, I took a semester off to reflect and enrolled in a semester at the National Outdoor Leadership School (NOLS) in the southwest. This involved backpacking in the Gila Wilderness, canoeing the Rio Grande, and caving and climbing in Arizona.
The Gila River. Photo courtesy of Flickr.
The course was transformative in ways I didn’t expect. Since then I have thought of my life as before and after NOLS. Many of my peers worked in the outdoor industry and I was interested in moving forward as well. But after returning to university, I became convinced that the sensible decision was to channel my passion for sustainability into corporate social responsibility efforts.
Make the “responsible” decision
I took a class on leveraging organizations for social change, which encouraged us to consider our future careers. The course professor worked in his backyard and one day I sat with him in the sun as we discussed my plans for the summer. I had recently accepted an internship at a bank to work on a newly created responsible sourcing program. I had never planned to work in finance, but I thought it could be an impactful job, although I felt embarrassed explaining it.
He was insightful and sat for a moment before asking me why I didn’t want to go into conservation or outdoor work, which seemed to be what I was passionate about. I didn’t have a good answer.
In my first month working at the bank after graduating, I told an executive that I would need to take a gap year in the next few years to advance on the PCT. However, I worked in corporate social responsibility for various financial organizations for seven years and lived in Brooklyn for five. Although some of my work and life seemed meaningful, I still didn’t have the confidence to act on what I really wanted.
Brooklyn Bridge Park
A decisive moment
One day, while walking to a climbing gym, I was listening to an interview with a woman who had previously belonged to a cult. She said that on her first day there she was told she would feel uncomfortable and want to leave. But, they said, that was a sign that he should stay, because growth is uncomfortable. I realized that I had been using that tactic to convince myself to stay in places and situations that hadn’t felt right for me for years.
It felt like every free moment since NOLS I had been reading and listening to interviews with people who had had incredible adventures. Why couldn’t it be me? I was doing the best I could with a corporate job in New York City to put together sections and day hikes on the weekends, but I knew I wanted more.
From a hiking section of the Long Trail last summer.
The road ahead
So, over the past few months, I’ve quit my job, finished my lease in Brooklyn, moved my belongings into storage, received a long-distance permit for my PCT hike, and prepared for the trail.
I expected that after so many changes in such a short time I would feel emotionally overwhelmed, but I have felt better than I have in years. Growth is sometimes comfortable; I enjoy it while it lasts.
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