As I was wading through the waste high overgrowth of nettles, thorns, and poison ivy that is the temperate forest of Ohio in July, I realized that if someone asked me what backpacking was like I would have very different answers depending on whether I had just been out for a hike or if I had been off trail for awhile. This may have had something to do with just being stung by a yellow jacket again, or being soaked with sweat followed by drenched in a thunderstorm. If asked during a hike I would probably describe overnight hiking as uncomfortable, frustrating, a test of willpower, and masochistic. In hindsight I usually get dreamy eyed before explaining that hiking is beyond fulfilling, inspiring, peaceful, self revealing, and therapeutic. I often chant the phrase "get comfortable with being uncomfortable" to myself when a hike gets tough or I'm tired after days of walking.
Here's the thing, when I'm asked why I love backpacking if feels like a totally different question, but I have exactly the same answer: it's peaceful and trying, inspiring and uncomfortable, it's frustrating and fulfilling. It's everything life is, but it's allowed to happen naturally.
And the truth is hiking in Ohio is exactly like hiking anywhere else. There's a struggle, and there's serenity; there's the odd feeling of being out of your element mixed with a strange familiarity. We don't have massive mountains with views of glacier lakes as payoff after a long climb, but the mechanism is the same. We're just going for a walk.
