My Unintentional Hiking Journey in 2024 - Bruises, Trails, and Life Lessons

So, in the last few months, life has handed me a highlight reel of my very own pure brilliance.

First, I managed to drive my car into the back of another—because apparently, braking on time is optional. Then, in a move of unparalleled grace, my phone decided to leap off a cliff. And let’s not forget the growing collection of injuries—minor, mostly, just the occasional body part politely reminding me that I’m no spring chicken. All of it unintentional, of course, because who plans this chaos?

But you know what has been intentional? Hiking. Yup, every single weekend, without fail, I channel my inner Britney, bitch and hit the trails. Is it therapy? Sure. Is it healthy? Absolutely. Do I love every moment of it? Damn straight—especially the ones where I’m hobbling along, licking my wounds like some kind of wounded animal.

And amidst all this, I’ve learned a few things:

• Age isn’t just a number; it’s a gentle nudge to be the best version of yourself for where you are in life.

• People don’t completely suck. Turns out, camaraderie is a thing, and it’s kind of beautiful.

• Nature is alive and breathing—and occasionally downright hostile, especially when the trail feels more like a personal attack.

  
  

On top of that, I’ve somehow stumbled back into my two long-forgotten passions: photography and writing. Both total amateur hour, of course. Nothing screams mid-life crisis like dusting off old hobbies and pretending you’re about to go pro. But hey, I’m trying.

My photos now serve as literal evidence of where I’ve been (usually places I’ve tripped, slipped, or gotten spectacularly lost), and my writing? Well, I’m working on making it less “brutally snarky and borderline offensive.” Baby steps.

This year, hiking became a bit of a family affair—kind of. I started with one kid, then both kids, then one again (amicable breakup—no hard feelings), then the other (who’s probably plotting his escape as we speak). Somewhere between the chaos of family dynamics and reeling in a few hiking buds, I found a community of like-minded people who get it. They understand the need to escape, to push limits, to sweat, and sometimes to suffer together. No judgment, just shared miles and the occasional gasped-out curse word.

Some people call us nutjobs. I call those people ignorant. They’ve probably never felt the twisted joy of scrambling up a rock face while muttering, “Why am I like this?” under their breath.

So, here’s a massive thank you to everyone who’s been part of my hiking journey this year—whether we’ve shared the trail, exchanged banter online, or bonded over bruised knees and tired feet.

I can’t wait to be braver, bolder, and slightly more unhinged in 2025. Here’s to unplanned detours, stepping even further out of my comfort zone, and hopefully finding the trail—eventually.

Let’s see where the journey takes us—ideally somewhere with a rock pool and minimal inclines. Cheers to more sweat, more laughs, and less face-planting. Well….. a little less.