I don’t really know how to think or feel most days.
Many of you remark on my positivity and resiliency, but I think a lot of that comes down to what my body and mind’s basic operating principles are: to be optimistic and hopeful. I think a lot of my current mental state can still be chalked up to denial, or disbelief. I truely can not conceptualize that I have Stage 4 cancer (at some point I said it was Stage 3, but really it’s Stage 4 due to the levels it has spread in my body…this is all an imprecise science…but at this point I don’t think it’s useful to pretend it’s better than it is).
I had another biopsy last week to try and figure out what mutation I have and determine the best course of treatment, but somehow that went awry and they sampled plain old bone that doesn’t have tumor. I’m not sure how that’s possible given the CT scanner that was used to try and target the tumor for sampling, but I’m left with a useless test and no more answers than before. I haven’t talked to my oncologist yet about the bum test, I’m sure he’s NOT HAPPY, so I’m not sure if I’ll get scheduled for another, or if he will have enough information from the blood testing that was done a little over a week ago.
Regardless, I’m left in the hazy in-between state of not knowing. I’ve been in this not-knowing place for many months now, and it forces me to live in the present like never before. I really want to plan my year. Typically I would have multiple hikes, trips, local river adventures, etc. mapped out for 2025, but all I can really do are pencil in some ideas about what Kirk and I would like to do, if I’m able, later this year. I am really good at going with the flow, but I’m also a lover of spreadsheets and calendars and get a lot of joy and satisfaction out of planning. For now I’m planning for the maybes. Why not map out a 2-week Portugal Camino walk just in case I can do it at some point this year? Why not think about river trips we might be able to take this year if I’m stable enough? That gives me something to look forward to, and a reason to keep on despite the not-knowing.
The not-knowing is also a great place to look-back. The looking back at past periods in my life has been a fun adventure, and I’ll admit, a challenging one. I posted my PCT video montage a few days ago, and had a complete break-down when I got to the northern Washington section. It probably had a lot to do with my music selections (Phish’s Swept Away (sob!) and David Grey’s Slow Motion (
I’ve lost people. Missy, my best friend in high school and college lost her cancer battle (lung cancer in a non-smoker!) a year ago in October. It was fast too. From March to October we rallied around Missy (me in my typical disbelief) as she and her wonderful husband Garrett and cutest young son ever, Parker, and her family did everything they could to keep her going. Our group of friends were able to have a video call with her just a week or two before she passed, and I was so grateful to have had that time to connect with her again. I didn’t believe she would actually go, or that I would find myself dealing with something similar a little over a year later. So today I’m going to go back to explore my time in Wisconsin; Missy’s Celebration of Life was the last time I visited Wisconsin in October of 2023.
Here are a few photos of my dear friend and I:
So here I am, feeling a bit more raw than usual on this Monday morning in March. Wisconsin has always been an important part of my story, and I credit my time(s) there with helping me become the person I am today.
Wisconsin can be broken down into two phases:
- Childhood (I was born a cheese head and lived there till I was 12)
- Post Peace Corps (I moved to Madison for about 7 months in 2001 after I returned from the Peace Corps)
Most excitingly, I have an upcoming trip to attend the International Trails Summit in Madison in mid-April too! I really hope I’m healthy enough to go, and if any of you cheese-heads are reading this and want to connect while I’m there, please let me know! I have a bit of time on the front end, and would be willing to tack on a day or two on the other end as well…
Childhood
No trip back to my birth would be complete without explaining how my adventurous and amazing parents ended up in the Midwest. For all of the non-traditional life paths I have taken, a pretty big deviation from the technical and engineering-focused life choices of my three brothers, hearing more about the early Wisconsin years puts a lot into context. My folks did a great job of showing me that anything is possible, and that idealism can be a good way to make decisions in life.
My dad grew up in California in the San Jose area, and joined the Air Force after college. He was stationed in West Virginia when he met my mom in the 70s. My mom found her way to West Virginia from Lafayette, Louisiana when she took a job as a nurse and moved out of the south with her brother, my Uncle Al, also in the Air Force.
Legend has it my uncle was planning to introduce her to a dude named Steve at an Air Force party. She met Steve and it was a quintessential head-over-heels love affair, but as it turned out her Steve wasn’t Uncle Al’s Steve! Didn’t really matter though, my folks were quite taken with each other. The wedding happened a short while later, and that’s when the adventurous spirit that I inherited from them both appeared.
I will probably get some of these details wrong, but essentially my Dad had decided to leave the Air Force, and the plan was my folks would get in a car, road-trip across the country, and find a place to call home along the way. That place happened to be Wisconsin. They made it to central Wisconsin, and happened upon an old farm house in a very rural part of the state that spoke to them. Somehow, the idea of living like the Amish, a kind of back-to-the-earth ethic, was strong at the time, and the white-washed old farm house with apple orchard in the rolling glaciated idyllic Wisconsin was going to be the setting for their new start.
The nearest big cities were Stevens Point (where I was born), and Waupaca (where I went to school), and the farm house was bracketed by the small little towns of Almond and Wild Rose. I mean, just the names sound so picturesque. I don’t remember a ton about the farmhouse, but stronger memories remain from when my folks bought some property and started building their own house by hand a few miles away when I was about 5. Community and friends were a huge part of their (and my life) during that time. My folks formed some strong bonds with other young couples, and we spent many hours together as our the families came together for cider pressing and chicken plucking parties. Many of the families were also doing a homesteading-back-to-the-earth thing in central Wisconsin, and we 70s kids benefited.
Then there was the earth-bermed house. My parents were very interested in energy efficiency and sustainability at the time, and decided to build an earth-bermed house. It would face south to get the passive solar rays, and have dirt mounded against the sides and back of the house to the roof to help create a stable temperature inside. This earth-bermed house would later be eclipsed by the house they built in Illinois a few decades later, a real earth-ship! The Illinois house was completely ensconced in earth (about 5 feet on top of the poured concrete structure) complete with solar tubes to bring some light into the back corners of the house. My dad called it the hobbit hole, and it was about the coziest place around. They left their hobbit hole in 2020 when they decided to move to Lafayette to be closer to family as they aged, but those houses and the memories of living close to the earth and the natural rhythms of nature left strong mark.
Wisconsin and our little slice of paradise was the perfect place to grow up. I’m a solid generation X kid, and a true product of the 80s. I don’t think we got more than a few TV channels until I was in high school, and even the VCR got very limited action in our house. My three younger brothers and I spent the majority of our childhoods running around outside, climbing trees, building forts, riding bikes, reading books, and finding ways to entertain ourselves.
My parents were still quite ensconced in the community vibes of the area after the new house was built, and we had multiple families with kids our ages within biking distance in all directions of our house. We had acres of woods to explore, and there were lakes and ponds and creeks and corn fields that featured heavily in our play. We lived close to several Amish families, and when their horse and buggies would drive past the house, we would play dodge-the-horse-poop on our bikes. Sometimes we would visit them to buy fresh eggs and marvel at the peacocks that would parade in their yard. My parents let us on a looooong leash, and we would often spend all day adventuring with our friends in the woods. Because I had three younger brothers, I would need to find my own escapes, and would often climb a tree with a book to find some quiet. I became quite attached to reading books outside…one of my great loves to this day. I 100% believe this upbringing is what paved the way for me as an adult to be so comfortable outside, with being alone in the wilderness, with change and uncertainty…I learned how to occupy myself. I learned to find awe and wonder in nature. I learned how important friends and community were, and grew up with the wisdom of Mr. Rodgers and Sesame Street guiding my upbringing. It was as good as it could get.
When I was 12, my Dad, who had been working in computing at the University of Wisconsin, Stevens Point, took a job at Bradley University in Peoria, Illinois. I remember this time with excitement and anticipation… perhaps that was because I was on the cusp of my teenage years and the premise of moving to a larger town with malls and more boys was quite exciting. I was solidly into my New Kids On the Block obsession phase, and did I mention boys?
Post Peace Corps
It wasn’t until 2001 that I returned for my second Wisconsin phase, the post-peace corps pre Appalachian Trail time. It was all because of Cindy that I returned to Wisconsin. Cindy was a fellow volunteer, and I remember meeting her at the beginning of our Peace Corps time. We spent a few days in Washington DC in the summer of 1999 when we all had to report for the start of our service, and got whisked around town for a few days getting LOTS of shots and going through various orientations. It was a bewilderment of activity…but I remember sitting next to Cindy on the bus and discovering our Wisconsin connection.
Fast forward to training…we lived with host families in Bobo-Dioulasso during the first three months while we were in country. Cindy and Mia’s family lived fairly close to us (I roomed with Collaine…and fun fact, all four of us are currently Oregonians!), so she became part of my core friend group…which was cemented when we received our village assignments and were both sent to the far northern part of the country. Cindy and I both traveled to the regional center of Ouahigouya to get things like mail and interaction with other volunteers. We spent long hours playing cards, drinking beer, and sweating under the hot hot sun. More to come on the years we were in Burkina Faso, but it was during the first few months of my service that I had decided that I would hike the Appalachian Trail when I was done, and somehow convinced Cindy to hike it with me.
When our time was coming to an end in 2001 and I was still planning to hike the AT in 2002, Cindy convinced me to move up to Wisconsin and spend the fall/winter in Madison as we prepared for the hike. It was an easy sell…I found a job at the university, moved into a group house with some of Cindy’s college friends, and embraced my cheese-head origins for a short while.
How would I characterize this second Wisconsin phase? To start I’d encourage you to play Brian Eno’s Ambiant 1 Music for Airports.
The house I lived in was off of Monroe Street (near the football stadium and Lake Wingra) and was pretty crunchy. What do I mean by that? My housemates listened to records, we didn’t have a TV, they brewed beer and were very wholesome. A record I played over and over and over was Peter’s Ambiant Music for Airports. This became my musical touchpoint for this phase of life.
I got a job in the Department of Landscape Architecture at the University of Wisconsin Madison, and while I didn’t really have a background or much interest in landscape architecture, it was a very Wisconsin department to work in. I ended up really loving the professors and faculty that I worked with, and this is where some seeds were planted in my brain, or the seeds of influence started overlapping. There is a big conservation ethic and history to Wisconsin, and several influential people like Aldo Leopold and John Muir were also cheese-heads.
Leopold was extremely important to the Landscape Architecture department as he experimented with the revolutionary notion of restoring ecosystems damaged by human activity, both on his own land along the Wisconsin River and at the university’s arboretum. In his book, A Sand County Almanac, he weaves science, history, humor, and prose to articulate the bond between people and the natural world with the hope that people would treat the land with love and respect…an ethic and operating principle that I now hold central. I seek to use long-distance hiking as a way to deepen our connection with the natural world. If we can understand that we are a part of nature, and that what happens to the natural world is happening to us, we will act differently.
So this Wisconsin time was fruitful. Ideas and influences were taking root. Philosophies and ethics were germinating, and this whole time was one great meditative and contemplative phase for me. Cindy was living in Milwaukee at the time, and we would meet occasionally to hike and talk about gear (neithor of us really knew what we were doing with the whole hiking/backpacking thing), but we kind of figured some things out that winter. I didn’t know many people in town, so spent many hours walking the city, reading books, visiting coffee shops, and generally flaneuring my way around town.
I didn’t have a lot to do as a student liaison in the Department of Landscape Architecture, so I took it upon myself to find useful projects to keep my brain busy and help out. I decided to redesign their website, so I taught myself web design using Dreamweaver (the platform of the day) and had great fun designing the website after a technical landscape architecture rendering. This was when I started to apply my design skills to whatever I happened to be working on, and credit a lot of my creativity and out-of-the-box thinking to trying to be useful and learn something wherever I happen to be. I also took it upon myself to archive the department’s records, which stretched back decades. I carefully organized and catalogued file box after file box of papers and materials that choked the office. It was a way of keeping myself busy, which was the main goal. There is nothing I hate more than having to pretend to be busy or occupied. I’d much rather give myself a daunting and impossible task than have nothing to do.
All in all, this second phase of Wisconsin life was fairly short and sweet. In the spring of 2002, Cindy and I made our way out east and started hiking the Appalachian Trail…something that obviously has become the passion and obsession of my life.
My April trip back to Wisconsin is going to be a wonderful overlapping of all of these worlds. The nonprofit American Trails puts on an International Trail Summit every two years, and their Executive Director, Mike Passo, happens to call Marshfield, Wisconsin home (Marshfield wasn’t too far from where I grew up). I’ve been getting to know Mike and Candace at American Trails since I started my consulting business two years ago, and gave a webinar presentation through their weekly series right after I started. Give it a watch if you like!
When I started my second business, Intentional Hiking, in the fall of 2023, I hosted American Trails during my launch event and our connections continue to this day as they might take on some of the work I had planned for 2025. More to come on this come, but I’m very grateful for the work American Trails does!
So for all of you Wisconsin people that may read this blog post, like I said in the beginning, if you want to connect while I’m there, please let me know asap and we can try and make something happen.
It’s about time for either another cup of coffee or a green tea, so I’m going to sign off and see about this Monday.
She-ra Hikes 