As I sit here in my parents kitchen, surrounded by “comforts” of home, I can't quite comprehend what just happened the past two weeks. Drinking coffee out of one of my favorite handmade mugs, sitting on the artisan crafted wooden barstools at the island counter while the morning light beams through the trees and windows, trying to recall and process my recent experiences on my trip, only one feeling comes to mind. Gratefulness. What started out as a month and a half long trip to adventure through the wilderness of the West and Pacific Northwest turned into a thirteen day trip out to Crested Butte, CO for my WFR recertification and then right back here to where I started.... but an adventure nonetheless. And though I was unable to do many, or even most, of the things I was planning, I’ve learned more than I could have hoped for. With life’s lessons fresh in my mind and open wounds, so begins the healing process and the return to (shall I say it?) “normal”. I’m not so sure that I chose this path for myself as much as it chose me. As my Grandpop kept reminding me on our two day drive over 900 miles through the beautiful geography of the midwest and back east, one cannot control their destiny. (And apparently I need to register to vote too). The most important lesson I’ve learned? Be kind, genuine and loving to those around you. It has only been through the support and love of my friends, family, loved ones and acquaintances that I’m able to continue standing and continue hiking the treacherous trek on this path called Life. They’ve helped to rekindle my strength and resilience and remind me that I still have a job to do here, a purpose. You cannot let life beat you down because once it starts it doesn’t stop until you fight back. I reach out with a gracious, most humble and all encompassing “Thank you!” to all of you who have helped me during my trip, no matter how big or small the gesture, I appreciate you. And what a wild trip it has been....

-HB