How Traveling Leads to Creativity

With a company that has a name like Sojourn Design, there’s got to be something behind it, right? First, let’s talk about what “sojourn” means.

so·journ - /ˈsōjərn/ - noun : a temporary stay

I named this company based on travel, as travel is innately part of my being, and I believe it’s helped fuel my creativity and unique perspectives offered to my clients.

If you don’t speak the language, all you have left is visual communication.

I have a deep love for culture, and can’t deny the thrilling experience of being thrown into a foreign country alone, where I don’t speak the language and have to navigate a societal system based on visual communication alone. Have you ever noticed the way arrows are placed in environmental design and how they serve or confuse you in a train station? How about color coded signage in an airport? Or perhaps script styling verses block lettering? What do you infer without knowing what the word says? It’s a challenge I enjoy and perpetually learn from.

Diverse Experience Feeds the Subconscious.

Why are creative people so creative? If you were to ask one of us, we would say it just comes naturally. Well, what does that really mean? For me, it means I have fed my subconscious mind for so long with creative fuel that when push comes to shove it comes rather naturally for me to be able to create. By traveling and seeing diverse colors, patterns, textures, and details in nature, I feed my subconscious and my soul.

One of my favorite placed I’ve ever been is Chefchaouen, Morocco (aka the blue city). It’s known for striking blue washed buildings in an old village nestled among waterfalls in the Rif mountains. Even if I’m not consciously aware of it, all of the tiles, metal plates, bright colors, and textures I enjoyed there are now tools in my subconscious creativity box.

Traveling Fosters Problem Solving Skills

Last but not least, if it’s a real adventure, then nothing goes as planned. When nothing goes as planned, we are forced to think on our feet and learn how to have a solution oriented mind rather than panic and give up. It also helps us think ahead to avoid similar problems in the future. This skill directly translates into our work, as sometimes things don’t go as planned, and we are fully prepared to excel regardless.

I hope you feel inspired to do some more traveling and consider it as an opportunity to grow creatively.

XO Miranda

The Difference Between Passion and Obsession

I had the distinct honor of sharing one of my passions with a friend this weekend. He’s been trying to learn how to rock climb and had been learning indoors. I took him outside for his first time on actual rock. I got a ton of joy out of sharing this passion of mine with someone new. It prompted me to ask: What are you passionate about? 

He hesitated, and said he wasn’t sure he was passionate about anything. His reasoning being that he tries not to get obsessive over anything. I scratched my head, as this prompted a bigger question: What is the difference between passion and obsession?

We discussed it for a while with him advocating at first that they were the same. I advocated that there was a fine line between them, but that passion and obsession are very different. 

First, let’s define the two on a basic dictionary level.

Passion: “a strong and barely controllable emotion.”

Obsession: “an idea or thought that continually preoccupies or intrudes on a persons mind.” 

Immediately, we see the difference being control. Passion is barely controllable, and obsession is uncontrollable. It is a fine line indeed, but there’s more to it on a psychological level. Social psychologist Robert Vallerand defined two different kinds of passion, one of which is the basis for obsession. Harmonious passion is the good kind and obsessive passion is the bad. 

Harmonious passion means that you partake in activities that you enjoy, that you find important, and that you spend considerable amounts of time on. The most important aspect of this kind of passion is that you are doing it out of your free will. You can start and stop whenever you want, or whenever it makes sense, and it does not look like an addiction. 

For example, a passion for rock climbing may entail spending a few nights a week at the climbing gym, desiring to climb outside on the weekends, spending considerable amounts of money on gear, and looking forward to doing it. Sometimes you won’t go climbing because it’s raining, or you’re too tired, or need to spend extra time with family. This makes sense. Your decision making is in your control and does not take an impact on your positivity or well-being. One of the biggest differences between harmonious and obsessive passion is that the healthy passion means to enjoy an activity for itself. Not for secondary gains. Personally I find this to be true in my own climbing experience. Once I left a long-term relationship I was elated to discover I loved to rock climb for myself, not anyone else. 

Obsessive passion would look more like getting upset that you had to break your climbing routine, that it rained out your plans. You’d look for someone to cover a shift at work so you could make up your climbing day, you’d miss your sisters wedding dress fitting because you hadn’t climbed that week, you’d be in a bad mood because you couldn’t climb, you'd hurt yourself to an unnecessary extent…and so on. When your passion is obsessive, you no longer have control over it. You can’t start and stop as you wish. You become addicted to the excitement you get from it. You start prioritizing your passion over other commitments. You can’t stop thinking about it, and it takes a negative toll on you. Obsessive passion creates a hard to resist urge. The urge won’t stop until you give in. 

This psychological research made me reflect on my own passions and I must admit… I have let climbing become an obsession at times. I would get frustrated to break my gym routine during the period I had to move out of two different houses in the span of two months. It took a toll on my climbing performance and instead of getting frustrated, I could have approached it from a healthier standpoint had I not been obsessed, but harmoniously passionate about climbing. 

What it all boils down to is control. When you cross the line from passion into obsession, you loose control and the lack of the subject robs you of joy. While having passions can be very fulfilling, give meaning to your life, and be a source of joy, it’s good to be mindful of not letting them turn into an obsession.

What Do We Leave Behind?

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what we leave behind. 

Thankfully as of this point in my life, I’ve been lucky enough not to have to deal with death very often. Only in the past year have I begun to process the feelings that come with knowing people of impact have passed away.

A few weeks ago, someone my age named Savannah Buik died in a rock climbing accident. I only knew her briefly, but we had climbed together at ICF and she made an impact on me. I remember her contagious laugh and big smile, yet nonchalant attitude about accomplishing what I would consider a badass lead climb with ease. I was inspired by her. 

I'm sad to hear of Savannah’s passing. She had taken a fall while trad climbing and her last two pieces of protective gear went flying with her.

Something they say in the climbing community is "if you're not flying you're not trying." One thing I know for sure, is that she was so strong. You have to be strong to mentally accept the risks that could lead to a potential fall. She accepted that risk, because she knew how good it felt to overcome a personal challenge, and she was strong enough to do it again. 

Photo of badass women climbers at International Climbers Festival 2017 by Alex Aresti

The sad but true reality is that climbing accidents happen all the time. I remember when I first started climbing and went on a road trip to visit Zion National Park. As we hiked up Angles landing looking over the vast landscape, my friend told me about an accquaintence who was an accomplished rock climber that died in Zion after rappelling off the end of his rope. 

Its scary, but comforting to know you have the most control over your experience. You choose to double check tying that knot, or to get complacent. You choose partners you trust. Most importantly, you choose the risks you accept.

Through rock climbing, I’ve grown so much in all aspects of my life. I’ve become addicted to the sport largely due to the mental aspect of how elated I feel after accepting a risk and succeeding on something I once deemed impossible for myself. When accidents like this happen, it’s a cold wake up call to remember how fragile we are when we feel on top of the world.

I’ve been thinking about what we leave behind because I’ve just been wanting to grasp onto something of Savannah to remember her. I looked at her Instagram and watched a video of her singing. It made me happy and sad all at the same time. It made me want to be more intentional about what I am leaving behind. From social media, to the things I own, and the way I might impact people… 

It's still so hard to believe this person my age, doing something I love, is no longer with us... but it's humbling and a wake up call never to forget how serious this fun sport is. Be thankful for the opportunity to live life to the fullest, and do it without forgetting how fragile we are.

You can read Savannah's blog here, or the write up about her and opportunity to donate to the AAC in her honor by Chelsea Rude here. 

Chalk : A Love/Loathe Letter from a Designer/Climber

Chalk.

I used to loathe you. The way you would dry out my hands. I would dread touching you to color the sidewalks. I had to touch you. It was my job to implement community art projects. I had to use you on the sidewalk. I had to use you on the pavement. I had to use you on an abandoned house. You were everywhere. And... because of your chalk-like nature, you could disappear as though you were nowhere, too. Unless of course you spill in powder form, then you're there forever and a #$%# to clean up. 

Chalk. 

I learned to love you, but it was a slow process. I saw your benefits. I knew the dry hands were temporary. I liked the way you would blend. I softened up to you, chalk. You helped me on my college graduation project. I spent a month building and framing an 8 foot tall chalk board for you. You helped me decorate my mind into tangible reality... but I still didn't love you. I met your cousin, the chalk board marker, and preferred him. 

Chalk. 

I became a rock climber. The first few months I would run immediately to wash my hands after we finished our climbing session in the gym. I still hated the way you made my hands feel. I carried lotion with me every time I climbed outside. Sometimes, I'd even put lotion on in between climbs only to chalk up again. Pointless, I know, but I had to do it. 

Then the tables turned and I barely realized it. 

I started to forget you were on my hands because of what you allowed me to do. My focus shifted to being completely present on the wall, or excitement that I could erase you with ease. After becoming a climber, I renamed you from "chalk" to "the white powder of courage." 

White Powder of Courage. 

You soak up the nervousness leaving my body and make it possible for me to grip when I should have slipped. You soak up the moister in the Thailand air as I climb in a dream destination. You dry out my hands and I'm thankful for it after I accidentally grab a hold full of water. You are always there with me as I'm breathing through a difficult move. You help calm my hands when I'm shaking and remind me that I can do this. Whenever I pause, I chalk up my hands even if I don't need to because you are symbolic courage. 

I love the way you decorate my face, my clothes, after a day of rock climbing. I love the way you don't complain about blood. 

White Powder of Courage. 

This is actually a love letter. I love that you enhance my passions of hand lettering and rock climbing. I am thankful for you. I get excited when I see you in my Christmas stocking. I could not do what I do without you. 

Thailand's Cheap, Amazing Street Food

Whenever people learn I was in Thailand the first question they ask me is "what was your favorite part?" Honestly, the food. Street food gives me life, and there is an amazing culture of street vendors throughout the country. Not to mention, I could eat Thai food every day of my life. 

After returning to the states, the first thing I ate was a rice and chicken bowl in Los Angeles. Do you know what that cost me? $15. I've had some time to reflect now and realize I've been in a somewhat permanent state of "hanger." I've come to realize that I'm sick of paying $10-15 every time I want to eat something healthy. In Thailand, the food was cheap, healthy, and delicious. My favorite meals cost me $1-3. Here, if something costs that, I question why and probably don't want to eat it (unless it's authentic Mexican tacos, I'll eat those all day). 

Stir fried rice noodles - 10 BAHT = $0.32 USD (and henna!)

Colorful Pad Thai with tofu - 60 BAHT = $1.92 USD

Cultural Differences

Another thing I love about the Thai food culture in general is that they don't wait to serve your food. If you are out to eat with four people and you each order something different, they will bring out one dish, 20 minutes later bring out something else, and so on. You don't wait for everyone to get their food before you start to eat like we do here.

There's also the language barrier. I did not personally experience this, but a friend told me about a Thai food experience that made me laugh. You walk into a quaint little place to eat and are pleased to see an extensive 15 page menu in English. You take ten minutes to decide what you want and finally order. She brings out one dish. It's not what you ordered. She brings out another dish. It's not what he ordered. She brings out another. You realize... it doesn't matter what you order, they will always bring you fried rice. Classic. 

Lastly, those of you who know me know that I love pizza. Well, I made it a point to stay away from any food that wasn't authentically Thai while there. Tourist food is way more expensive and usually pretty bad. However, after a long day of rock climbing some friends thought that pizza sounded really good and they decided to treat themselves. They get the pizza. It looked like slices of melted kraft cheese over vegetables. They ate a few bites. It tasted...okay. Oddly... sweet? Soon after, my friend sees squirt marks and realizes... IT'S KETCHUP. THE BASE SAUCE IS KETCHUP. 

And that, my friends, is why you only eat Thai food. Preferably street Thai food.

Grilled chicken on a stick - 10 BAHT = $0.32 USD

"I won't eat street food, I don't want to get sick."

Okay, let me set those of you who say this straight. Street food is arguably safer than brick-and-mortar food. Here's why... street food is guaranteed to be fresh. It's cooked fresh, served hot, and everything is used by the end of the night. There is no room for vermin to get into stored food and you don't have to worry about it sitting out for too long or not being properly stored. 

For those with allergies, you get to watch them make your food right in front of you and that removes any questions or potential hazards. 

Street food is cheaper, tastier, and in my opinion, more fun! On my first night in Chaing Mai I indulged in the night market which is famous for hand crafted goods and street food vendors galore. I went HAM, and wobbled back to my hostel with a food coma and big grin on my face. Since everything was only 10-30 BAHT, I tried everything... and there was no harm if I was too full or didn't want to finish something. However it is important to note I finished EVERYTHING. There was not a single thing I ate in Thailand that I didn't like. Mmm. Now I'm drooling. 

Have a seat, pick your toppings, watch your dinner being made for you. 

Dim Sum... one of my favorites. You got 8 pork filled dumplings for 20 BAHT = $0.64 USD. 

All photos were taken by me. 

Mixed Emotions Preparing for My Thailand Adventure

In two days I will be on my way to Thailand. I am overwhelmed with a mixture of emotions. This trip is primarily a climbing trip. I’ve always had this ambition and thirst for adventure, but can’t believe how far I’ve come in just a year and a half. I can thank my fairly new love of rock climbing for opening my eyes to different ways that I can experience the world. I’m an avid rock climber, and now aspiring ice climber! Just thinking about climbing brings me so much joy. I’m thankful to have been able to climb all around Colorado, three other states, and now… Thailand (with more international climbing trips already in the works).

Tonsai, Thailand is spoken about only in one way by those who have visited — with sparkling eyes and a romantic eagerness to return. It is the place many climbers fell in love with climbing. One guy named Lucas that I met told me he wandered around South East Asia until stumbling upon Tonsai, and then he stayed for months and fell in love with rock climbing. He now lives in a van so he can just travel and climb. Another couple I met from Canada while I was climbing in Red Rock Canyon, Nevada said the same thing. The climbing community is so strong in Tonsai that I am not remotely concerned about showing up and finding a climbing partner. Young limestone cliffs with juggy and overhung climbing… sounds amazing… looks amazing. Even if you were not a climber and just a tourist, you’d still want to go to this place. Railay beach is also just around the corner. 

This is not my first solo trip. Three months ago, I drove across the northern US and Canadian Rockies. In previous years, I traveled internationally to Spain, Portugal, Morocco, China, and South Korea alone. I am a 22 year old, 110 pound, 5 foot 2 inch tall female. These solo adventures are not part of the cultural norms for someone who looks like me. My mixture of emotions stems from this. I am simultaneously excited, nervous, and in disbelief that this is the life I’ve made for myself. 

What I’m most excited for however, is not the climbing and not even the culture or stunning landscapes — it’s the people. I always meet the most amazing people while traveling, and that’s one of my favorite things about traveling alone. If you have not only the desire but unstoppable ambition for adventure, I want to meet you.

When Nothing Goes As Planned

I’m a planner. I love to make spreadsheets and calulate hours/miles and the phases of the moon on road trips. I also love when things don’t go as planned, as most great adventures seem to go. That’s exactly how it went on my most recent trip to Red Rock Canyon, Nevada. 

We intended to go climb in El Potrero Chico, Mexico. Then we intended to climb in Joshua Tree National Park. On the way to Joshua Tree, we stopped on the border of Arizona and Nevada to camp and explore these magical slot canyon hot springs.

My climbing partner is rather “climbing obsessive” so he wasn’t stoked on the idea of spending a few hours at the hot springs I wanted to explore instead of heading straight to Joshua Tree. Well, my car decided not to start that morning and the kind gentleman camping nearby, Taylor, helped us jumpstart it. Oddly enough, Taylor was heading to the hot springs that day too. He was a previous zoo-keeper, then raft and mountain guide, now pilot in training, and too cool not to hang out with, so off to the hot springs we went like three peas in a pod.

We had both heard great things about Red Rock Canyon and it was only a half hour away from the hot springs, so we decided to get a half day of climbing in there before continuing on our journey to Joshau tree. Taylor highly reccomended it as well.  

It was history after we stepped foot into that park. The first people we met were a pair of Canadian #adventuretwins who helped us figure out where the crag we wanted was. Little did we know we’d be spending the rest of our days climbing with them. Great people are worth changing your plans for. 

We decided to camp outside of Red Rock Canyon that night, but to our surprise the one campground nearby was booked and nearly impossible to get a spot at. Our options were limited, it was dark, and we were tired. I thought, we don’t have anything to loose by walking up to a campfire and asking if we could share our boxed wine and space with them.

We picked the first campfire we saw, and it couldn’t have been a better one. At this campfire sat an adventurous couple in their late 30’s/early 40’s from Missoula who run the mountaineering club and have a plethora of climbing/travel/mountain experience. They had young guests from Florida who decided to drive across the country to climb, and most interestingly of all, Kentucky Pete. “I’m Kentucky Pete, climbing bum, campfire whore.” I could go on a separate tangent about all the glory that is Kentucky Pete, but I’ll save that. We joined this crew and every night after climbing turned to each other and said, “we should just stay one more night.” Eventually, we gave up the idea of Joshua Tree all together.

We all sat around this campfire the first night and shared stories, life lessons, and wine. The next night it was just us and the Missoula couple. Eventually, we took over the campsite and were the new campfire hosts. The Canadians joined us for two nights. On the last night, New Years Eve, a figure named Josh appeared from the darkness and asked if he could join us. Josh is 27 and has been doing the van life for a while, traveling and climbing. He brought gifts of whiskey and adventure tales. 

Kentucky Pete also graced us with his presence on our last night around the campfire. He said he remembered me and the life lesson story I shared and has been sharing it at other campfires. It’s a compliment to be remembered. It’s also a compliment to be interrupted when they say “wait, now that sounds like the first line in a book I want to read.” Kentucky Pete. What a character. 

Ever since the beginning of civilizations, people would gather around the source of heat and light to have community with one another. It used to be that people would alll gather around the fire, now they gather around a different source of light, the TV. 

It was beautiful to reflect on the way this same campfire evolved each night. From being guests ourselves, to becoming the hosts, to welcoming another guest who did the same thing we did. The constant was the sense of community and vulnerability among climbers who haven’t showered in days, shared puffy jacket hugs, stories, whiskey and wine. I will remain friends with these adventurous souls who we were lucky to happen upon. 

Nothing went as planned, but all went as it was meant to be. 

Winter Solstice Darkness to Light

Today is the winter solstice and also the darkest day of the year. It's when the sun in our sky reaches its farthest southward point in the 365 day cycle. At this solstice, the Northern Hemisphere has its shortest day and longest night of 2017. 

Several cultures and religions practice celebrations in honor of the solstice. While my culture and religion do not partake in such rituals, I still used this day as an opportunity to reflect. 

Our sky was getting progressively darker and our nights longer each day. Today marks the shift towards light, and we can use it as a metaphor in our own lives. 

Let today be the day you start to look at things in a new light. Look at people and situations in your life in a new way. Be hopeful for the light that will shine into your life in the future. Consider and experience everything in your day to day with just a little more intention. 

In my yoga class this evening, I  tried to focus on feeling the poses and stretches of my body differently than I have before. I realized that when I’m doing a stretch that feels uncomfortable at first, my body sends an alerting signal to my nervous system. 

It’s how you react to the discomfort that determines if your experience will be pain or growth. 

If you respond to the discomfort with a fight back, tense up your muscles, or hold your breath, then it will start to feel like pain until you get out of that position. However, if you respond to the discomfort by acknowledging it, not fighting it away, and breathing, the discomfort will just fade away and never turn into pain, but growth. 

This was the new light in which I thought about what my body was feeling in yoga, and I think it should be a direct metaphor for how we look at our lives. When you are experience pain in your life, don’t tense up and try to fight it. Acknowledge that it happened and allow it to fade away. 

Let today be the day you look forward in a new light. 

Happy Winter Solstice. 

Early Season Jackal Hut Trip

If you live in or visit Colorado during the winter, you should know about the backcountry hut system we have. The 10th Mountain Division has built and maintained several huts across the Colorado Rockies that are accessible by cross country ski or snowshoe in the winter. You can even do multi-day, multi-hut trips. Costs range from $20-$40 a night and all you really need to bring is a sleeping bag and food. Most huts have around a 16 person capacity, and you almost always meet great new people to enjoy the experience with.

This was my first time doing a hut trip in the early season. It was still amazing, but I will let you know that if you’re looking for the kind of experience where you will have 5-6 feet of snow that you can cannonball into, I’d go closer to March.

Note: All (the good) photos in this post were taken by my amazing professional photographer friend Will Strathmann. Check him out on insta @willstrath or willstrathmann.com

FOOD: My backcountry food of choice is always pizza. My food of choice in general, is also, typically, pizza. Pizza is a great trail food. However, one of the best parts about doing a hut trip is making a great meal and sharing it with friends (full kitchen amenities are provided including a wood burning stove, propane burners, utensils, etc… you just have to melt snow for water.) I don’t skimp on the food. After all, that’s really the only weight you have to carry.

For this trip, we made gourmet burgers with thick cut bacon, avocado, and BBQ sauce with seasoned crispy fries for dinner. Breakfast brought backcountry tacos with potatoes, eggs, bacon, avocado and salsa. You’ll see, both of these meals had ingredients that overlap… and that is a key when planning meals. It allows you to justify carrying so many ingredients for delicious meals when you can use them more than once. Tortilla based meals are also great because typically tortillas don’t get squished in a pack like bread would.

Note: Bring whiskey and make what we like to call a “cold fashioned”… whiskey poured over a handcrafted snowball. 

THE HIKE: The main trail to Jackal hut starts at the South Camp Hale trailhead and is about 4 miles one way with 2,500 feet of elevation gain. It’s pretty short and steep, but that means a fun ski (or sled) down. We opted to sled down a good portion of the trail, and I have to say that was the most fun mountain descent I’ve ever had.

LOGISTICS: If you’re just getting into snowshoeing or cross country skiing, REI rents both of them for a low daily cost. You can even rent a gear sled if you plan on doing a multi-day trip and are carrying a lot of food & wine, camera gear, or what have you.

These huts book up pretty fast, but not so fast that you have to book them several months in advance. It gets harder to find multiple spots open in consecutive nights at the last minute, but you can check the forum on the 10th mountain division website because oftentimes people will book several spots for a trip with friends and then things fall through. There are no refunds or cancellations, so this forum is a place to see last minute availability person to person.

I took this photo of will as he was showing me how he wanted me to stage in his photographers idea. note: i cannot hold a serious face when trying to do something serious. 

Overall, I highly recommend the 10th mountain division hut system. Go for multiple nights if you can. You won’t want to leave.

On our last morning before heading out, I wrote a poem by the fire. I also wrote it in the guest book. They have guest books from every year since they opened the hut system that everyone can write in. It's a fun by the fire, reading/writing activity. 

How Being Faithful Leads to a Spectacular Life

One of the biggest compliments that I could ever receive is that I’ve inspired someone. I have received that compliment recently, and it got me to thinking… why is it that I am able or worthy of that compliment? What about the way I live my life makes me different? So I came up with this:

I believe that those who are faithful attract positive and spectacular things to their lives. Being faithful in all ways—spiritually, relationally, and towards your goals, is a recipe for living a beautiful life.

Faithful to the Spirit

Those who have experienced God know what I’m about to describe. Every time I step away from the spirit, I start to feel unfulfilled. Things are off, I get depressed, I loose sight of the meaning in my life. I feel completely “off-track” and lost of where I’m meant to be and what I’m supposed to be doing. Everything we do is either self-motivated or worship… and what good ever comes from being selfish? God blesses those who are faithful. Peter 4:10 says, “Each should use whatever spiritual gift he has received to serve others faithfully, administering God’s grace in its various forms.” Everyone has different gifts, it’s just a matter of figuring out how to use your own unique gifts to bless, inspire, or help others. If you don’t, then you’re cheating the world of gifts that were intended to be shared. Faithfulness to the spirit is painted by acting upon this calling.

Faithful in Relationships

There are several different kinds of relationships that this applies to, but I’m going to talk specifically about friendships and romantic relationships. I’ve been watching a few couples very close to me prepare for marriage and I’ve been in a 3 year relationship myself. Faithfulness is a major factor in the success of any relationship. Similarly to how I talked about being faithful to the spirit, being faithful is about how you can serve the other person. If you evaluate your actions to see what was self-motivated and what was truly an act of service or loyalty to a friend or spouse, I’ll bet you’ll see which direction leads to prosperity. Everyone has that friend who doesn’t want to hang out unless it’s convenient for them. Then you have the friend that you know you can count on to be there for you at 3am, even if you haven’t seen each other in a while. Eventually, the self-motivated friends fade away, and the faithful ones are cherished forever. The same goes in romantic relationships—both sides of the puzzle need to faithfully serve the other, not out of obligation, but out of devotion. I have yet to see a relationship work out that didn’t have this dynamic.

Faithful Toward Your Goals

Wether your goal is to become a great rock climber or excel at work, being faithful to that goal will lead you there. Never loosing sight of what is important to you is kind of like the time I learned how to ride a motorcycle. When you want to turn left, you look left. If you look any other direction while wanting to go left, the odds are you’re not going to make a very clean turn; you may even fall off the bike. Keep your eyes fixed on what’s important to you, your goals, your dreams, and faithfully take steps in that direction. Being faithful is how you get there.

Faithfulness is not always easy, but if you remain faithful in everything you do, then you’ll see the positive impacts on your life and those around you. Those who inspire me also live this way, and it doesn’t take much to see it.

Adventure May Hurt You but Monotony Will Kill You

What does adventure mean to you? For me, it means taking risks. With any risks you take there is the potential to get hurt. The key lies in the rewards that taking those risks will bring to your life. That’s why the quote “adventure may hurt you but monotony will kill you,” resonates with me.

As an American, it resonates with me even more because of this rat-race in our society to achieve the “American Dream.” Go have your house with a white picket fence and start a family while you’re young, work a 9-5 job, raise your kids, retire then die. I quiver at the idea of that becoming my life. Maybe for some people, that really is their dream…and good for them, everyone has a unique story.

My story is where the words call me to different places entirely. My story is that I long to live on the road, reaching corners of this world that I have only ever dreamed about and probably can’t pronounce. My story is that I cannot feel fulfilled by this daily life until I can leave footprints in the sand, mud, snow, of hard to reach places. I want to stare into the eyes of beautiful people who look differently than me that come from other cultures and connect with them in the same time and space. I want to make an impact on the lives of those around me.

No amount of security is worth the suffering of a mediocre life chained to a routine that has killed your dreams. – Maya Mendoza

Security feels nice. It’s nice to work a salaried job and get a consistent paycheck, have a consistent roof over your head, and know where you’re supposed to be every day. Security is comfortable. It’s comfortable just long enough to keep your mom happy until you remember you have bigger dreams. Then one day you buy a one way ticket to Europe and tell her “I’m going to live in Spain” (or Korea for that matter, go Kate!)(or in a van, go Jesse!).

I got this message from a friend this morning and I think he hit it spot on. “She described the feeling of coming home to Ohio and I knew it from chalking up, from tying on my snowboard boots, seeing certain people, etc. Home is a feeling, a way of being, not places. I think you get that.”

I’m currently in a unique position with my job. I’m the full-time art director for a non-profit Creative District outside of Denver, (at age 22, I’m probably one of the youngest art directors out there) and I love my job. I’m able to be creative and see my impacts on the people and community around me. Those two aspects are really important to me. Another important aspect is travel, and my boss has been really great about allowing me to go whenever and wherever I want, as long as the work is covered or I can work remotely. It’s comfortable, and I can’t go full-remote because we have a very small staff and hands need to be on deck… but I do dream and wonder about taking my design career full-remote and living in new countries each year (or until I get bored, change my mind, or the visa runs out). I have this dream to visit 50 countries before I turn 30.

I’ve been able to avoid a totally consistent life routine by visiting at least two new countries each year, but I get bored so easily…I’m not sure how long doing that will last. I need to do something more…something bigger. I need to leave tangible effects on the places I visit and people I meet. I need to stay longer. That is for me to contemplate. What has this blog post got you thinking about?

Stop thinking about what’s realistic. What is YOUR dream? Okay, now, how do you MAKE it realistic? Start taking those steps. Don’t stop dreaming because monotony became comfortable and safe.

I have a plan cooking… I don’t think my life will look the same in a year from now. Take risks. Truly live your best life.

Two Sides of Alone

***** Written on October 23rd, 2017 *****

Today I woke up in the middle of a forest surrounded by thick fog. It was still dark out, and I was able to see stars sprinkled throughout the cloudy sky above. There was frost on my window, but I was cozy in a sleeping bag inside. I fell back asleep and didn’t wake up again until 8am, after the sun had risen. I had slept in, which was odd because I went to bed at sunset the previous night. I was disappointed that I missed the sunrise, but still content at the peaceful beauty around me. Watching the sun rise and set every day is good for your soul.

I drove the one hour from Apgar to Two Medicine in Glacier National Park, noticing how beautiful Autumn makes this part of the country and realizing that time now flies by while I’m driving. No cars or rangers were present in the park this morning. I felt surprised, lucky, and eerie all at the same time. I was completely alone for miles.

My original plan was to do a ten mile strenuous hike to a scenic view point within this side of the park, but all that echoed in my mind was voices of people worrying about me. This is grizzly bear and mountain lion country. The bears are most active this time of year preparing for hibernation. I started on the trail. It was eerily quiet. I thought about how no one would know where I was if something were to happen miles deep in the backcountry. I thought about the warning signs I read that said “hiking alone is NOT RECCOMENDED.” I looked at the down tree in the middle of the trail and thought about the hike I did last night where I got lost due to down trees. My mind battled itself with thoughts of “you came here by yourself, you knew you’d be hiking alone and you are prepared,” with other arguments trying to talk myself out of going.

I sorrowfully turned around, and for the first time on this trip, wished I wasn’t alone. 

My subaru sits alone at the trailhead of a quiet glacier national park.

Feeling defeated, I circled the park one more time hoping to see any signs of people or cars. It had come to the point where I may have asked the first person I saw if they wanted to go on a hike with me. I saw no one. Again, feeling coompletely alone, but this time from the safety of my Subaru. I thought I might as well go back to “town” and eat a good lunch. The town was barely existent and most places were closed, but I managed to find a small diner that was open. Even the locals told me I probably shouldn’t hike alone, but there were some safer, shorter walks I could do. I didn’t want to go on a walk. I crave a deeper experience of these wild spaces. I talked to my friend while I had cell service, and he encouraged me to go back out on the trail.

It was evident I was living my life in the confines of fear when I turned around on the trail. Fear hinders epic experiences, and I wouldn’t be two hours away from Canada right now if I had listened to the fear of traveling across the country alone. We’re always willing to accept more risks when we are not alone, and that’s something that has been very clear to me this last week. 

I went back to the trailhead, this time with more confidence that it was where I was meant to be. I allowed fear to take over me before, forgetting that there is a God who loves me and wants the best for me. You have heard that phrase “dance like no one is watching”? Well, I sang like no one was listening on the trail today.  I sang like my life depended on it. I made up songs that made me laugh, and suddenly didn’t feel so alone.

Just as my nerves started to settle, I heard something big move in the bushes behind me. My heart and body stopped moving. I turned around, terrified…  but acted the same way I would have if I was leading someone else on the trail and didn’t want to alarm them. I stopped just briefly enough to hear a deep growling huff and puff and that’s when I saw the dark figure and eyes in the bushes…. $#@$! I think that’s a f****** bear. Unfortunately, it was behind me and in the direction of the trailhead, so my only choice was to slowly continue deeper along the trail. With one hand on my bear spray, I walked backwards for a while to make sure I wasn’t being followed. I wasn’t, and continued on my way. After making it to a waterfall and continuing up to a high viewpoint, I decided I had gone far enough and turned back, alert of my surroundings as I made my way back to the Subaru.

***** Written on October 25th, 2017 *****

Today, I climbed to the windy, snow and ice covered summit of the first mountain I would conquer in Canada, and I was alone. People tell me “don’t do this, don’t do that, we want you to come back alive,” but are you ever truly alive if you don’t pursue the things that call you? If you never chase your dreams and your fears? Is that what you call living? I am truly alive when standing on top of a mountain that I sweat and doubted myself through. Nothing makes me feel higher on life than experiences like these, and it’s even more rewarding to know I’m not doing it for anyone but myself. It’s liberating, actually, to be completely alone and completely happy.

One thing I learned from talking to a local (thank you, Ryan!) is that the best experiences you can have might be just outside of the tourist packed Banff National Park, and that’s exactly where I went. As I drove through Canmore, the first town at the foot of the Canadian Rockies, my jaw dropped at the tall and rugged looking peaks around me. I continued to drive to the trailhead of the mountain I was going to climb, not knowing exactly which one it was, and couldn’t believe I was about to climb any of the peaks I was looking at.

Elation photo on my way down from the windy summit.

I parked at a completely empty lot, knowing I’d be alone on the trail again. After finding the trailhead, I read a notice of multiple cougar sightings in the past week along with the typical “this is grizzly country” posting. I wasn’t about to turn back due to fear, so I began another solo climb up switchbacks through a magical and misty forest. Thoughts of “why am I doing this” did cross my mind, but once the summit came into view I was overcome with giggles and stoke. I made the summit, so happy and overwhelmed by the beauty around me that I was almost moved to tears. The wind was so powerful that I feared it may blow me off the summit, so I crawled around only long enough for a few pictures before returning lower to safe standing ground in the piercing wind. After taking a few wind-shattered panoramas, I ran down the trail. Laughing the entire way down, I was elated at my achievement and that I had the right tools/gear to keep me comfortable and warm on the trail.

In that moment is when I truly realized that I just didn’t give a hoot a anymore. I was sweaty. I was dirty. I was in another country, and I had just climbed a gnarly looking mountain by myself. No one could take away the joy I was feeling, and I suddenly decided I didn’t actually care about making sure I could get strategically timed showers and have nice hair. I was living life rough out of my Subaru and it was okay to look rough and happy.

Being alone is most rewarding when you don’t let fear overcome you. You must be content with who you are and trust that you are exactly where you are meant to be.

Simultaneously Isolated and Connected

Sleeping in my subaru and watching the sun set over the tetons.

I woke up with a view of the Grand Tetons and crisp cold air on my face after falling asleep to the same view. Many hours were spent staring at those mountains…contemplating the day I will see myself standing at the top. My skill set and experience levels are not quite at the level of confidence to climb the Grand right now, but I dream about it frequently. 

Those are very special mountains to me, symbolic in many ways. At some point, I have to stop staring at them and return to my normal life and other plans. Today I said a sweet “goodbye for now” to Grand Teton National Park and continued my solo journey through Idaho and Montana. 

Through forests sprinkled with gold autumn leaves, over mountains, between fields of sagebrush, and into my own mind I travel. 

Driving through desolate parts of the country for hours gave me this simultaneous feeling of isolation and connection. 

I pass through the occasional town, but not many, and not very big ones. I notice little details that make them unique and beautiful. Part of me wants to stop, but I know that there is beauty in admiring these places from the road, never to experience them in a more intimate way. My imagination can play with the stories of what experiences were had at “The Spud drive-in” movie, or “Voted best BBQ in Idaho! (Yes it’s in a gas station.)”

I’m overwhelmed with the wildness and vastness that is the “between places” of America as I pass through multiple ecosystems and seasons.

Regardless of taking this journey by myself, these experiences make me feel like the luckiest girl in the world. 

4 Things I Learned About Disaster Relief

When the hurricanes hit this year, I found myself balling reading the news about all of the devastation and stories of people who survived the disasters. I clearly cared about this topic, so why not put my actions where my heart is?

I was able to spend five days in Houston working with a church connection and the organization Send Relief to reach the homeowners that needed help. Accommodations, food, and transportation were covered while in Texas. It only cost me $100 to fly down here. Below are some things I learned while on my first disaster relief deployment.

1. Mold

Who knew it was so toxic? Exposure to regular mold can make you sick with a variety of things including pnemonia and respitory issues. Then there is BLACK MOLD, which is caused by flood waters that are contaminated with sewage, and on top of making you sick, it could kill you. All of the wooden floor boards, drywall, insulation, and any other wood that was soaked in the flood has to be torn out of the house. That brings me to the second thing I learned…how to tear apart and mitigate mold in a house.

2. Relief Efforts

Today, I woke up somewhat dreading but somewhat looking forward to what we were prepared to do… and that was crawl under a house with a headlamp looking for moldy insulation in order to pull it out. You get down and dirty in these homes… some of which had five feet of water in them for thirteen days. My team worked on five houses total, all at different stages. We did work that ranged from sweeping, spraying bleach and shockwave, to using a hammer and crowbar to pull every wooden floorboard out of a house. And that is just the beginning. You haven’t even scratched the surface of what these homeowners are about to face in the process of rebuilding. Simply by volunteering your time (and sweat) you can save a homeowner tens of thousands of dollars and give them the encouragement when they just don’t know where to begin.

We connected very well with the owner, Pam, of the last house we worked on; and she was telling us that she had lived in that house since she was three years old. She could not go inside at first without getting emotional, and hadn’t done anything to start rebuilding in the month that has passed since hurricane Harvey hit (she just didn’t know where to start). The hope and community we brought as volunteers changed that for her.

3. Hope

What do you do when you lose everything? A natural disaster hit that you weren’t planning on. You lose your car to flood damage. You lose your job because you can’t get to work. You lose the roof over your head. Do you lose all hope? That’s not the case for some of these people, and that’s because they find their hope in God. One woman told us that the hurricane was one of the best things God could have put in her life. It reminded her that these worldly things are fleeting and temporary. We care so much about the house we want with the white picket fence that we can loose sight of what really matters — glorifying God and our home in Heaven. This changes your perspective from only thinking about now to an eternal view. When we lack confidence about what happens to us when we die, we become a slave to now. Devastation is much worse when you believe it is all you have.

4. Love

The fact that a few of us traveled all the way from Colorado (and some from California, North Carolina, and other states) just to come wear a face mask and gloves to tear out moldy debris from homes in 90 degree humid Texas amazed people. It brought some to tears. God has a way of using natural disasters to reveal His love in a powerful way. Seeing people affected by these hurricanes makes me want to love on them even more. Would I normally jump into the task of removing deadly black mold if it were at my house? I probably wouldn’t be as excited about it. But when I saw the look on Pams face as she worked to tear up her living room floor next to a wall of black mold, I asked her to step over so I could clean it for her.

These disasters bring people together. But it makes you think, why don’t we help our own neighbors more often? If something speaks to your heart and you have the means to help, please don’t just send your “thoughts and prayers.” Go do something about it. Any way that you can shine a light in the life of someone else means more than they can articulate. We are called to be the hands and feet of Jesus. Let my life be the proof of His love.

“Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, ‘go in peace; keep warm and well fed,’ but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it?” – James 2:15-16

Heros in Chicago Basin

Like every great adventure, things did not go as planned.

After a 6 hour drive and 1 hour ride on an old steam train through the San Juan National forest, we were dropped off at a concrete pad ready to backpack into the wilderness. 

Not even two miles into the hike, we came face to face with a giant moose on the trail only a few yards away… Quickly, we got off the trail, remembering that we were the visitors, and slowly made our way as the moose turned to continue grazing. 

We were chasing the sunlight as we wanted to get up to Chicago Basin and find a place to camp prior to dark. Luckily, we found an amazing spot closer to the 14er trailheads than we anticipated. 

The next morning, we planned to be moving by 4am to see if we couldn’t do all the 14ers in one day. It was still dark and raining at 4am and the motivation meter was low. We did not get up until 5am.

It was dark. We were tired. We missed the turn off for the trail that we were supposed to take. My instincts told me something was off, but Andrew insisted on following the only trail we could find… which made total sense… because it was dark… and who knew there was a random turn off from the main trail. Somehow we ended up doing a knee deep river crossing on top of walking on a trial that was practically a creek for several miles. You can thank a rainy Colorado summer for that.

The best part? Unnecessary vert. We went up Columbine pass before checking the GPS to find that we were 4.5 miles out of the way. We watched the sunrise and hastily made our way back down. 

It was 7:30am by that point and doing 2000 feet of elevation gain before climbing our intended 14ers was only slightly laughable. The sky was covered with clouds and I was very aware of timing and just waiting for the sky to show more signs of the impending storm. (Note: the picture below is from sunset the evening prior)

After crossing the knee deep river (for the second time) we met another hiker who gave us wide eyes once we told her we just wanted to climb Sunlight (class 4) because of weather and the now late start. She told us how a guy narrowly avoided breaking his back and falling to his death by slipping the day prior and how others had almost done the same. 

We were like okay… maybe instead of doing slippery class 4 Sunlight and Windom peaks, we should just do Mt Elous. 

Back to square one and off to Elous we go.  Spirits were low… until everything changed when the sun finally broke through the clouds. I cannot describe the joy of being baptized by the morning light. Once the sun came out, it was like a new day and a new me. I suddenly took more interest in the beautiful waterfalls and wildlife all around us.

The sky was still gloomy and the trail was practically empty. The few people we saw were all heading down and said with exaggeration that they turned around at the “scary” catwalk on Mt. Elous. We were still going to check it out.

There was one last solo man heading down as we were heading up. We knew that we were going to be the only people on that mountain. 

By the time we got to the ridge, we could choose to go up 200 feet to the summit of North Elous, or walk across the catwalk to Mt Elous. The catwalk was much more appealing.

Clouds were growing heavier and darker. We started the catwalk and it was exhilarating. There were thousand foot drops on each side. While halfway across, I pulled out a slice of pizza. I’ve been waiting for this moment.  

Pizza on the catwalk seems light-hearted, but I take safety in the mountains very seriously. It was 11am, and I am a stickler about being below tree line by noon. Andrew still wanted to attempt the summit since we were so close. I did not think we could reasonably make it up and down before the weather rolled in and made the down climb more treacherous. At a certain point, it’s just not worth it. 

I got this strong and eerie feeling that we needed to be going down the mountain at that very second and yelled for Andrew to turn around. He choose a more difficult route and was not on the trail… but didn’t realize it and was dangerously attempting it only thinking about speed due to the impending storm. 

He turned around and met me on the catwalk. We glissaded down a couple of snow patches and slipped on some wet rocks until making it to the main boulder field. I couldn’t imagine down climbing from the summit in those conditions. The majority of deaths and accidents that occur in the mountains happen on the down climb.  

Once in the boulder field, we heard a yell from the distance. There was that single man we saw previously in a very bad position on the side of a slippery mountain slab. He had gotten off track and fell off the edge of a cliff which landed him there! 

He didn’t know how to get down, he was inexperienced, and he was terrified. We tried to tell him that the only way he could get down safely was by climbing up and traversing left to more textured terrain. 

He didn’t move. 

All he wanted was to “get down” and didn’t understand that “down” meant serious injury or death and “up” was the only way out of his bad situation. Andrew had to cross the boulder field and climb the wet slab to meet and direct him face to face. The man was in tears and kept whispering “I’m going to die.” 

I directed them from my vantage point the best route. Andrew pep talked the guy through the movements he had to take. We got him safely to the boulder field. He was limping, his knee was all bloody. He was clearly in very bad shape and altitude sick. 

He was now our responsibility, and he was so thankful. He kept telling us how he thought he was going to die up there and that he has three kids. We had come down from our summit attempt at the exact perfect moment to help save his life. 

That was a God thing. 

All in all, it was a grand adventure…and nothing wen’t as planned. The weather did finally give us a break for a pleasant hike out, and it was great to adventure with a good old friend who’ve I’ve known for ten years. I’d like to go back for longer than a weekend and bag those 14,000 foot peaks, hopefully without having to do another impromptu rescue.