often when hiking, there’s a moment of self-doubt, when the voice in your head becomes deafening, and you have to summon every ounce of will just to keep going. by the time i made it to sedona last month, i had been hiking in the southwest nearly every day for three weeks. so in a flash of hubris, i looked up “hardest hike in sedona”, had a breakfast burrito, and set off to summit bear mountain at 6,463 feet, with an elevation gain of nearly 2,000 feet over 2.5 miles. it was the hardest thing i had done in almost a year and the first half hour was brutal. after a short walk through the forest, the trail quickly devolved into full on red rocks scrambling, with each step requiring a foot high leap, using your arms to pull yourself up. i was gasping for breath and checked my altimeter to find i had only climbed 300 feet. meanwhile, everyone descending seemed to be not only infinitely fitter than i was, but they were straight up chilling. the voice in my head taunted me, “you’re clearly out of your league, you should stick to easier hikes.” but i kept going, and before i knew it, a descending hiker was telling me i had already completed the hardest part! and indeed, shortly thereafter, the red rocks disappeared and i found myself in a magical forest that literally felt like being in a botanical garden. often times, when things are hard, we think they’ll be like that forever, but what if ease lies just around the bend? after the garden, it became harder again, but i was ready for it now. i asked some more kids what the rest of the trail was like. “there are a few gnarly portions but you’ll be fine.” i reached the top, helpfully marked by an “End of Trail” sign, and fell to the ground, in gratitude, laughing. sometimes we think the level we are playing is too advanced for us when it’s just the right one after all. ❤️
