​The important things stopped being beautiful, or perhaps I stopped noticing. Everything started to frustrate me. My irritation level grew paramount and I could hardly stand the lines, the meaningless dribble, the typical small talk and the fake well wishes. I found myself circling the proverbial drain, losing myself down the rabbit hole of negativity. I began waking up beneath a dark cloud each morning, thinking to myself, ‘Is this it? Again?” Every day trivialities shook me, becoming a burden I carried which changed who I was and how I interacted with everyone.

​Crisp pine and woodland aromas lingered on the cool winter air. Vivid but pale and glowing was the landscape all around me as the wind swept snow against the rocks, creating mounds around each tree trunk. It was deeper than I had anticipated, but I was managing…

Like a worn donkey with a carrot dangling overhead, I slogged on through the bitter cold, mustering enough in me to force another step forward. And another, and another. The weight of my pack, tent and gear pulled me down with each step. The wind whipped icy whip cracks against my face, cracking my lips and searing my eyes shut. I cracked them open, peering out through bleary slits, as I continued through the winter wilderness. Frost had frozen to what remained of the grass beneath the carpet of snow, and it crackled beneath the tread of my Keen Targhee boots. I went on like this, slow but steady, for what seemed like days. The only thing keeping me up were them boots.