Ten

10 years is not a long time in the grand scheme of things. But also, 10 years can feel like forever. Many things can happen in that time frame. Many memories can be had. Many joys and sorrows can pass. Many lessons can be learned. It took me 10 years to learn something truly important. 

10 years ago I woke up and headed to school just like any other day. But this day was going to be engraved into my memory forever, every single detail. I had an unfortunate situation arise involving an extracurricular activity, and the advisor, who I still consider a mentor. I was so upset that I was sulking all morning long. 

Lunch time came. I didn’t want to eat. I sat down at the table with my usual group and sat in silence. Everyone else was laughing and joking, as per usual, but I thought self deprecation was fitting. I spent the 20 some odd minutes ignoring the world around me. Pretending nothing mattered except for me and my problems ,was the way I was going to deal with what was happening. 

School got out. I headed home and I wanted to go for a bike ride to release some steam. When I opened the shed, I saw my bike was missing. It then dawned on me that I had taken a bike ride the week before to my Uncles house, and then he gave me a ride home and I left the bike behind. My uncle was only 1 year older than me. We grew up in the same small town, with many of the same friends and teachers in school. I called him to see if he might be able to bring my bike by. He told me he was going dirt biking but would try to bring it by later. 

I decided to just stay home and watch TV. In the early evening my dad ran through the house telling everyone we had to go the hospital. There had been an accident and we needed to leave immediately. The entire car ride I was feeling so sick. I experienced so much loss in my family at such a young age, that I was expecting the worse.

Gathered in the waiting room with family and friends, the doctor came in. He explained internal injuries had been sustained and they were rushing to surgery and we would have an update in about 1-2 hours, or as soon as possible. 

I sat there. Waiting patiently. Worrying. And then, I felt my heart sink. Everything went quiet, despite all the noise actually happening around me. I felt the blood draining from my face. I almost felt like I was floating and not actually in my own body. All of this happened because I saw the Doctor walking back into the room. I knew in that moment, this accident was fatal. Why else would the Doctor be back only 20-25 mins after letting us know he was going into surgery. He came into the room and said “This is the hardest thing I have to do, tell a mother I lost their child.” And it was confirmed. When he spoke those words to my grandmother, I lost a piece of me, that could never be replaced.  

My uncle, who was going dirt biking, like any other day, was killed in a terrible and unfortunate accident. For years I have been so mad and angry at myself. 2 things have haunted me all this time. The first was the thought that if I had insisted on getting my bike back, maybe things would have been different. He wouldn’t have been where that car was, at that exact time, if he had come to my house first. This has made me lose so many hours of sleep and caused me so much pain, until recently. I finally was able to understand that I couldn’t have done anything different. Matthew was a free spirit that did what he wanted to do. And he loved dirt biking more than almost anything. Nothing would have kept him off the road at that very moment. 

Secondly, and this I the thing that I can change. I sat at the lunch table across from Matt for 20+ minutes and didn’t exchange any words because I was acting out. I know people live by a motto of “no regrets”, but it’s not a motto I live by. I definitely have done things I regret, even if I had the right intentions while doing them. I still wish I hadn’t. It was the last time I saw Matt. The last 20 minutes I had with him. And I took them for granted. I have now learned that nothing is promised. Live every moment as if it is your last. Leave no stone unturned. Climb every ladder. Open every door. Look out every window. Welcome opportunities. 

Never put off until tomorrow, what you’re willing to die, having left undone. 

It took me a great part of the last 10 years to let go of many things that were holding me back.

Matt, wherever you are, please know I think of you often. The impact you made in my life is everlasting. The bond we shared is unbreakable, even in death. You were my uncle, my brother, my best friend. I can only aspire to laugh and live life the way you did, and hope to leave my own impact on this world. Until we meet again. 

- Jellyroll

                        

3 days. 50,225 steps. 164 flights of stairs climbed. 19.62 miles.

Disclaimer: This is my first time posting from my phone. Please excuse any grammatical errors or formatting issues. I don’t have access to the editing tools I normally do. 

I have always enjoyed being in touch with nature. I grew up close to the White Mountains, spent a few years not far from the Great Smokey Mountains and a brief time exploring the western edge of the Rocky Mountains. After my second trip in Utah, I fell in love with mountains all over again after having spent 5 years with Space Mountain as my nearest mountain.(shoutout to Tomorrowland, once a space ranger, always a space ranger!) I had been planning on getting a mountain tattoo for a number of years but Utah’s, Beautiful, Majestic, and Breathtaking views, helped me decide on my actual tattoo design.

I’m writing this a day after having spent 3 days on the Appalachian Trail. It was such an amazing experience and I know I will remember it for the rest of my life. I spent weeks preparing myself for the physical aspects, preparedness and scheduling times/distances (which overall was pointless because you get where you get, when you get there.) The one thing I didn’t prepare myself for, perhaps the most important thing, hit me before even hitting 1 mile on the trail. I didn’t even think about the mental or emotional factors at all. As I stood there, out of breath, sweat pouring down my entire body, looking ahead to see if I could catch a glimpse of my cousin who was far ahead of me, I check behind to see if anyone is in sight. I’m alone. Just me and the AT. Nirvana. That’s the only way I can describe what state I was in. Now, I was only doing a small section hike, I wasn’t out here for the life changing and excruciatingly challenging thru hike adventure. 20 miles is all I was coming here for, like 1% of the trails length. It’s nothing when you look at the AT in its entirety. But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t able to take something meaningful, life changing even, away from this. Oh, and I injured myself and came off the trail about 8-10 hours earlier than expected and only made it 12 miles( the other miles accumulated were gathering wood and water and setting up camp etc). But I still feel accomplished. I still hiked on the AT. I got a taste of what’s in store for years to come. Being alone on the AT just allowed me to have a moment of self reflection, clarity, peacefulness and pure happiness. 

I learned so much on the trail and aside from the beauty and the experience of being completely in the wilderness, I enjoyed something that I never thought I would. One of the most rewarding things on the trail was meeting other hikers and talking. Sometimes it was a brief hello/how are you/have a good day, in passing. Other times hikers wanted to talk more, find out where you’re from/ where you’re going/ are you section hiking or thru hiking/ have you been out here before? And the conversations at the shelters were generally recapping the hike for that day and talking about gear and what lay ahead. I learned so much about the “do’s and dont’s on the AT”, even though I did HOURS of research and thought I knew everything I needed to know my trip. 

I didn’t take as many pictures as I would have liked for two reasons. The first reason is because I wanted to limit myself from using unnecessary technology/electronics as much as possible. And the second, more important reason, is because on the AT, you are hyper focused on getting to your destination, as quickly as you can, so you can get your pack off, set camp, find and purify water, and gather fire wood. With that in mind, taking photos seems to be less important. However, I do have a few to share!