Yesterday I received one of those Facebook Memories on my wall. It was the 7th anniversary of Helen and I completing our end-to-end hike of the 900km Bruce Trail.
As these memories tend to do, it triggered many flashbacks of a grand adventure that caused me to fall irrevocably in love with hiking and the outdoors.
You would think that in the years since we completed this adventure I would have returned to do a lot more hiking on the Bruce, but the problem is, no part of the Bruce Trail is anywhere close to where I live.
I haven’t been able to routinely pop onto one of my favourite sections for a quick hike when the mood strikes me. It means fighting traffic across the city for at least an hour on one of the busiest highways in North America.
Needless to say, I don’t do it very often.
Maybe it’s just 6 months of pandemic-living talking, but lately I had been feeling like the best adventures of my life were now in the rearview mirror. Time, energy, and an aging body were definitely not working in my favour.
Then, unexpectedly, something changed.
About a month ago, I had mentioned to son #2 that his brother and his father had bonded over triathlons and for the past couple of years spent their summers training together up to 3 times a week.
Why didn’t we do something like that too? (I’m embarrassed it took me so long to think of it.)
And that is how the idea of hiking together each weekend was born.
We have now been on the 3 hikes together … 2 of them on the Bruce Trail. In just 2 hikes, it’s become very clear that Misha too has felt the powerful allure of this extraordinary trail, and this is where we both feel like we’re in a happy place.
I now have a reason to fight my way across the city each week so I can introduce my son to all my favourite trail sections. We aren’t planning an end-to-end – that’s for Misha to undertake some day if he’s inspired – but there are a LOT of highlights for me to share with him.
Not only do I get to spend one-on-one time with one of the dearest people in my life, but I get to share and pass on my love of this extraordinary treasure to someone who really matters to me.
It’s an honour to have my adult son interested in spending one of his precious days off with his mom. It might be the beer and muffins I bring each week (I’m teaching him everything Helen taught me) … but I think it might actually be love.
I’m a lucky mom.