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Into the Wilderness

The day my wife was killed was the worst of my life. One moment I was sitting in our living room having got home from work, an ice-cold beer in my hand. The doorbell rang. It was a police officer bringing me the news that my wife had been involved in a head-on collision and was dead on arrival at the hospital. I never drank the beer.

I wasn't yet 30. We'd been married for nearly 5 years, just about to start a family. Of course I fell apart. I couldn't focus on anything at work. It was enough of an effort just to get out of bed in the morning. The big company where I worked as an engineer turned out to be great. They told me to take a leave of absence for a year and they continued to pay me. So I could focus entirely on getting myself back together.

I realized I had to make some changes or I was going to spiral into a depression too deep to escape. I decided to start hiking. I'd hiked before but only day-hikes. Some really hard ones like Half Dome or the bottom of the Grand Canyon and back, but never staying out overnight. I trawled the Internet and accumulated the lightest equipment; the days of carrying 50 pound packs were long in the past. I would go out for a couple of weeks at a time, hiking in a big loop and doing up to twenty miles a day. The wilderness is quite different once you get more than one day away from the trailheads, especially if you avoid the most popular areas. You can go for days without seeing anyone. Other areas ...

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