The time I walked to Twin Lakes Village – and then got in a car and drove home
On Monday night I rolled my ankle, and that was that. Yesterday morning, I limped 11 miles out to Twin Lakes Village where Kristen and Lacey were waiting to resupply me, and after a few hours in Leadville in which I wrestled it over, I asked them to take me home.
Of course, the decision wasn’t that easy – and even the day after, my emotions are still as raw as my heels.
First, let’s back up. Since we last spoke, I’d been hauling ass across the state of Colorado. In the 4 days since Breckenridge, I hiked 73 miles; by the time I reached Twin Lakes Village, my grand total was 177.2. And despite dumping more than 8 lbs of my original weight, my pack was still hefty, and it was taking a toll on my shoulders, neck, and feet. I kept waiting for the moment when everything would click and I would start feeling good – but it just wasn’t happening.
In fact, my body seemed to revolt against me more and more.
While the original blisters started to heal up, new ones began to form. My shoulder sores grew more deeply bruised. My hands started to crack open – deep wounds that were more like cuts than cracks. I developed a wicked heat rash on my face and ears. My back started to feel strangely reminiscent of the days before I threw it out last year. I couldn’t sleep. And when my appetite all but disappeared, I knew that things were serious – because since when has Annie Parsons skipped a meal, especially after hiking 20 miles in a day?
So when my ankle rolled, I decided to call it – not quits, but good. I called it good. 11 days on the Colorado Trail had been good enough.
I could have slowed down. I could have taken a rest day in Leadville and hoped for my ankle to heal up. I could have dug deep and rallied and soldiered on a day or two later – but you know what? I didn’t want to. I’d had 11 days of adventure that had stretched me and challenged me and given me the confidence to call myself a Tough Ass Bitch. And now I wanted to go home.
It’s a humbling thing to realize that your dream wasn’t what you thought it would be. I had put so much into this experience – time and money and effort and planning – and my family had bent over backwards to help accommodate my plans. So many friends were invested in this trip. And if anything was going to get me back out on that trail, it was the knowledge that the people who love me were rooting for me, cheering me on, and pulling for me to reach Durango; honestly, it brings tears to my eyes to think about how supported I’ve felt through this whole thing.
But it’s especially humbling to realize that I wanted the end result – to say that I had hiked the Colorado Trail – more than I wanted to actually DO it.
I’m just sitting here staring at those words, and wondering when the last time was that I was able to be so honest. Like I said – humbling.
Somewhere deep inside, I think I believed that doing something like hiking the Colorado Trail would make me strong. It would justify me as a badass, and confirm me as a force to be reckoned with.
But here’s the truth about what 11 days solo in the backcountry did to me: it stripped me small. I woke up each morning alone in a tent, no shower, no real conveniences of any kind, and then strapped on a burdensome pack and walked for the next 11 hours. I applied bug spray like perfume, and SPF 100 like my life depended on it (which it kind of did). When I would walk around a tree to drop trou (because the world is now my bathroom), I would bring DEET to immediately spray on my haunches to avoid being eaten alive in the nether regions.
(The mosquitos were truly insulting. I was Thomas J. – they were the bees.)
But here’s the amazing thing: when you’re stripped of all comforts, all eyes, all mirrors, all bravado… you still exist. You still are, regardless of what you have or don’t have or can do or can’t do. I might have been waking up in a tent alone and uncomfortable and grosser than I’d ever been before – but I was still Annie, by nature of nothing except God having spoken me into being and continuing to hold me together.
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“All great spirituality teaches about letting go of what you don’t need and who you are not. Then, when you can get little enough and naked enough and poor enough, you’ll find that the little place where you really are is ironically more than enough and is all that you need. At that place, you will have nothing to prove to anybody and nothing to protect.” –Richard Rohr
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It didn’t matter if I got up and hiked or stayed right there in my sleeping bag. It didn’t matter if I had a house in Denver or a job at a big company or was in a relationship or not in a relationship or was good at things or not good at things – I am just Annie, small and simple as I might be. How freeing – because when you no longer have to live up to the person you hope you might be, you get to be the person that you are.
And the person that I am is now off the trail, a size smaller, reunited with my bestie, and grateful to have 3 ½ weeks of unexpected vacation ahead of me. Thank you so much for your amazing encouragement and enthusiasm for this adventure – the stories I lived will forever be a part of who I am.
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tags: 2014 | Adventure | Annie Parsons | Colorado Trail | Colorado Trail | Hiking | Mountains | thru-hike
I’m proud of you, Annie, and I love you. I’m happy to see you reunited with Foxy!
Love you and am sooooooo proud of you!!
but don’t be so quick to strip yourself of your bad ass bitch title because all that really took was the courage to start. which you did. you jumped down on one side of the decision fence, you did it. you made up your mind. you planned and prepared. and then, you did it. you are one rare bad ass bitch. and really to us – to me – you were always the right amount of Annie. with much muchness. i admired you even before this. but it is great and beautiful to see you be okay with you.
So proud. Crazy proud. Come to Nashville.
O Annie!!! We are so proud. Spectacularly proud. Thank you for sharing your adventure with us!! We call it good too! Now bathe for hours and eat heaps of pasta! We love you.
Annie! You have a gift. I am so glad for how honestly you share. Calling it good sounds like the right thing to do, I’m glad you can trust your body. AND certainly wear that B.A.B. title like a sash!
People rarely surprise or impress me, but you, my talented friendly, have managed to do both… again. Wow. Color me amazed.
Hmmm, 177.2 miles in high elevation, 73 of those miles on a sprained ankle – girl – you are one gigantic badass ! Am sorry this trip didn’t end the way you planned, but I am so impressed and proud of you!
You ARE a badass!
Jumping headfirst into the world of backpacking is terrifying. You did it- not to mention solo- on the sparsely traveled Colorado Trail. Plus, a week and a half through the Rockies puts you in the 99 percentile of experienced backpackers. The best part about setting such crazy big goals, is even if you “fall short”, you’ve still accomplished something truly amazing. Don’t forget that.
Also every single mosquito on earth can all die a miserable, slow, torturous death.
Enjoy the rest of the 3.5 weeks of adventure that lies ahead!!
I agree with Jodie. You are TOTALLY bad ass and strong as hell. Very few people I know would have even attempted to do this. You are and will I’m sure, continue to be an amazing inspiration to those lucky to call you friend and those of us that lurk as followers, just to be inspired by your zest for life and be touched deep in our emotional depths with your ability to put those zestful life experiences into words.
You are definitely, uniquely Annie Parsons. And as one of your friends suggested, if you know Annie Parsons, you love Annie Parsons.
This is an experience that will remind you for the rest of your life, of the very basic truth of life. No matter what happens, no matter how hard the journey, life goes on. And when we just keep taking the next step, we survive.
Thank you for sharing your journey. Enjoy your vacation.
“because when you no longer have to live up to the person you hope you might be, you get to be the person that you are.”
Those words I needed to hear myself today. I am SO immeasurably proud to be your sister and can’t wait to see you!
Perfectly lived.
Sounds like you found what you were looking for sooner than you expected…even if you didn’t know it.
So since you have all this time off, you should fly out to Seattle and make it to KindlingsFest;) I mean the them is perfect: “Come To Your Senses.” I am sure I could get jennie Spohr to try and convince you to make the trip too.(Just in case you wanna give it a go: http://www.thekindlings.com/kindlingsfest/)
All said, Rohr’s words are right on and you heard what you needed to hear out on these past 11 days.
You did so well, Annie! Nature is fierce, but you are fiercer.
I’m with those above – the “badass” came with starting and doing those miles. Revel in the open 3 weeks. And I’m kind with Kendall – come to Seattle :)
Thanks for the honesty too – as always.
I have a feeling the next 3 1/2 weeks are going to be filled with more adventures – and you get to be the person that you are!
bravo annie! well played, hiked, written.
Richard Rohr is spot on. Thank you for sharing that quote. Annie Parsons is small and simple, and no longer has to live up to the person she hoped she would be. Because she can be the person she is – loved fiercely, unconditionally, and held together by the God who called her into existence. You, my amazing daughter, are ENOUGH! I’m thinking that name on the white rock that no one but God and you may know just MIGHT be “Bad-Ass”, though! It’s somewhere in the book of Revelation. I couldn’t be more proud of you. And I shed a tear or two over your eloquent writing!
You are Annie Freaking Parsons and you have always been a bad ass. I mean, I could list all the reasons why going back a million years (or so). But 11 days alone hiking the wilderness is just icing on the cake of badassery. Let’s FaceTime a wine date some night, eh??
What an adventure! I think your experience was perfect. Thank you for being you!! :)
I am infinitely proud of you, dear friend. It takes guts to acknowledge the true you. Here’s to honesty, peace, following your heart, and YOU! I love you. Now, why don’t you come to San Francisco and I can nurse those blisters with cheese and wine? :)
Yes, beautiful you! Tears are rolling. You are a TOUGH ASS BITCH! Never back down…never let anybody tell you you aren’t. My stars, you hiked 177 FREAKIN’ MILES! That’s more than all my A/T hikes combined…much more. And you are just Annie…one of the most amazing people on this planet! Hug that fuzzy dog for me, and hug yourself…love yourself. You know why we were all pulling for you? Sure you do. It wasn’t about the end…it never truly is. It’s the journey to self-awareness and self-acceptance. You win! Love you…glad you’re safe. You are totally badass!
The person you ARE does and always will amaze me. And, zero miles or 177.2, I’ve always thought you were a bad ass. (c;
so so proud of you. And I’m with Annie D – come to Nashville with your extra time off. But first… sleep in your own comfy bed for 3 days straight. And have some wine and cheese and the Brains outa Foxy.
Love you.
*hug the Brains outa Foxy.
Annie, as a mom, I am so thankful you are home safe. You’ve had an experience not many will ever have! Our son, Evan, has a friend that hiked the Appalachian Trail alone. Took her many months. She had much to tell and some wonderful pictures. She cut her long braids off half way – less to carry…you girls are fearless. Now she wants to hike the trail along the Pacific Coast…aaagh! More prayers. It’s an opportunity for many things but drawing closer to The Lord would be tantamount. I know your puppy is happy you’re home too. God bless you sweetheart. Linda
I’m inspired by and second what *mom* wrote. <3 Congrats. Welcome home. Bravo. You're amazing as you are. You are inspiring and beautiful and ALIIIIIVE. Aliver than ever before.
You are even more of a bad-ass for making the decision to be true to yourself and what you really wanted to do. You are a rock star, pure and simple.
I am so proud of you.
Only knowing you through the rest of your family, I am proud of what you were able to do. Congratulations! and enjoy the rest of your time!
This may be the most beautiful thing I have ever read.
*tears*
Welcome home.
xoxo
I think you are incredible and courageous. Annie is Awesome.
I have been so blessed following your CO Trail experience. To know you as a young person and then read your blog has been exciting. You are courageous, brave and honest; and I can just feel the glory of your accomplishment. Enjoy every moment of the rest of your vacation, love on Foxy, soak until you are shriveled, enjoy eating without guilt, and feel deeply the comfort of soft chairs and your bed. What a wonder you are! Hugs, Claire
Put me down for the first copy of your first book- OK- maybe your mama can have the first one. Loved this post Annie, loved the wisdom so clearly expressed about the choices we have when we come to the end of ourselves. This is going on my chalkboard “because when you no longer have to live up to the person you hope you might be, you get to be the person that you are.” I sure like who you are :)
Annie, you are amazing to me. I think every person I have talked to in the last 11 days I have told “I know this girl Annie who is hiking the Colorado trail! She is the most bad ass person I have ever met!” and somehow feel cooler just for knowing a person who did something SO BAD ASS. You hiked for 11 days. And pooped outside. And no one made you do it. I’m mad at life just because I have to take a shower, and wear pants every day. Trust me lady, you’re the most bad ass bitch I have ever met.
Also, the only reason people read shit like “Anna Karenina” and “Moby Dick” is so they can say that they read it – no one actually enjoys those books. If they can read books just to say they did, you can certainly be motivated to start a hike to say that you finished it. But the thing is, you actually hiked 11 days. That happened.
I’m glad you are home. You’re story is just wonderful and amazing & truly an accomplishment. Thanks for sharing.
Oh Annie!! I can’t imagine everything you must be feeling right now, and I wish so badly I could call you and hear about where you’re at. I’m stunned by your ability to express (already!) such exquisite processing. I love and am blown away by your expression of how liberating it is to be small, and enough. Oh Annie– sendin you such a hug.
And I’m thankful, given all the ways your body was shutting down, that you called it good. 177 miles in how long?? I know you wanted to reach The End, but maybe you would have learned the wrong lesson that way… And maybe your body would have been in really bad shape.
Rest up. Eat up. Soak in tubs and pedicure baths. Go to the bathroom on a toilet, without DEET. You are so profoundly loved!!
And p.s. … A week in Seattle (preferably after July 24th) wouldn’t be a half bad way to use up some of that vacation time…
Love you AP.
Hey there! And welcome home! It took a lot of courage to make the decision that you did, and I think you made the right one.
I follow your blog, though I can’t even remember now how I found it. What I DO know is that so much of what you write about being single resonates with me, as I didn’t get married until I was 34, and your candid, open posts about the single life are still absolutely my favorites, as they remind me so vividly of the days before my marriage began.
That’s what jumped out at me from this post, in fact. This line: “It would justify me as a badass, and confirm me as a force to be reckoned with.” The reason that really got me is because I did the same thing. I didn’t have a husband or kids to show for myself (as my sister did), so I needed SOMETHING to prove that I’d been here, that I’d DONE something, even if it wasn’t what the world expected me to have done. In my case, I got a PHD (which I haven’t used, since my first son was born twenty months ago – lot of good IT’S doing me:)). Before I had a family, it was something I felt like I could wave, like a flag, to prove that I wasn’t just sitting around at home waiting for some joker to marry me.
Much as I love my family and am so thankful for my husband and our two boys, I’m still proud of that PHD, and you should be SO PROUD of your adventures on the Colorado Trail. I know I am …
Just wanted to share this similar experience, as I think it’s part of the single life that often goes un-discussed – the need to have experiences that keep us company and, more than anything, make us proud of ourselves.
I’m not saying that well at all, but my point is that you’re awesome, and I love your blog :)
Kristin Pressley – Greenville, SC
Anybody who knows themselves so well and is so wise at such a young age IS a badass to be reckoned with! No doubt. I am glad you’re home safe, now rest that ankle, eat some cheeseburgers, and enjoy your unexpected time off! :)
Awesome awesome Annie! This reminds me a bit of something I read last week:
http://theartofsimple.net/naming-and-framing/
I think maybe down the road you will see that your REAL goal was not to get to Durango, but to have the courage, determination, gumption, and drive to tackle the Colorado Trail. And you did that. 177 freaking miles on your own two feet!
Thank you for teaching us all so much through this journey.
What Alissa said! Exactly what I was feeling. Holding you in my prayers as you recuperate. Grace and peace be with you all…what a great community you have here, Annie! I am in awe.
You’re amazing! And you’re writing always moves me.
Annie, I loved your post. I’m glad you’re home safe and sound. I can’t wait to hear about the journey over maple whiskey.
There is so much wisdom here, Annie. I want to be like you when I grow up. No joke.
Annie:
Just heard about your hike from another staff member here at University Presbyterian Church and I was thrilled to read about it on your blog. My brother and I did a section of the Appalachian Trail this spring, and I can relate to so much of what you wrote! The AT was a grueling experience in many ways, but I’m so glad that I did it. I had 3 weeks vacation, so I had a goal of 150 miles and made it all that way. My brother (retired) had hoped to do the whole thing, but “only” did 275 miles before blisters and loneliness forced him off the trail. So he left disappointed in himself–but now he is thinking about doing another section next spring–starting from the point where he left the trail this year. I’m so proud of you for tackling this hike–way to go, girl!
This is a beautiful post. Thank you for your authenticity and bravery. LOVE THIS.
[…] The time I walked to Twin Lakes Village – and then got in a car and drove home […]
You still exist. AMEN! You have inspired me again. You are by nature a force to be reckoned with! I love you my friend.