thoughts while trailblazing


The trails that my brother and I once blazed on horseback have become overgrown in the six years since we last rode them together. Now covered in wild grass and young chapparal, I can only barely make out the path that was once so plain. 

Never one to let a difficult route stop me, I set out--with my baby wrapped to my chest and my dogs crisscrossing in front of and behind me. By mixing bits of the old horse trails with rabbit trails and fresh, uncrossed ways, we lay out a new, albeit haphazardous, pathway.

It seems fitting that I should do this with my son. It feels romantic, in a way, to show him these pieces of my childhood. He is my legacy and the start of a new generation of children who will explore these mountains. It is one of my greatest wishes for him to cherish the world we inhabit and come to know the wilderness that surrounds us.

The sound of mud squishing beneath my boots and the nearby panting of my dog is so familiar. It invigorates in me a sense of wonder and, even though I've traveled through these fields and ravines hundreds of times, I feel like an explorer discovering new lands. 

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