Through the Fog: A Hiker’s Tale

Through the Fog: A Hiker’s Tale
By Rebecca Lewis

I wasn’t always a hiker. If you had told me ten years ago that I’d find myself on top of a ridge in the middle of a cloud, soaked to the bone and grinning like an idiot, I would have laughed. Back then, I was more of a “coffee shop wanderer,” content to explore the world through pages of books or the view out a café window. But life has a way of pulling you into the unexpected.

It started on a dare from a friend—an overnight trek along the Colorado Trail in its southern reaches. “It’ll be easy,” she said, practically dragging me out of my comfort zone. I had zero gear, zero knowledge, and a ridiculous pair of sneakers that were in no way trail-worthy.

The trail started steep, winding through dense trees, with the occasional glimpse of distant peaks. My lungs protested with every step, and my friend, annoyingly spry, kept bounding ahead. “You can’t find this in a book!” she shouted back, her voice echoing through the trees. I felt so far behind her that surely I'd be hiking alone soon.

But she stayed pretty close. And she was right.

By the time we set up camp near a meadow speckled with wildflowers, the world had shifted around me. The air smelled sharper, cleaner, and the stars—oh, the stars! I stayed awake long after my friend had dozed off, staring up at a blanket of light that stretched forever. It was magic.

The next morning brought fog so thick we could barely see a few feet ahead. But we decided to keep climbing; the ridge wasn’t far. As we trudged through the gray, everything else fell away. No noise, no distractions—just the crunch of boots on rock and the occasional sound of breath.

When we finally broke through the cloud layer, the world opened up. Below us, the fog churned like a sea, and above, the sun painted the peaks gold. I’d never felt so alive.

That hike ruined me in the best way. I couldn’t go back to café windows and pages. I wanted real skies, real stories written in dirt and sweat.

Since then, I’ve had my share of harrowing hikes—storms that seemed to peel the world apart, trails that tested every ounce of my resolve. But every time, I find that magic waiting, just beyond the next ridge.

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