Giving thanks for the wild places

This has been a tough year. I am sure I am not alone. Faced with shoulder surgery and some personal challenges, I had trouble sleeping. 

Insomnia brought on mild depression and anxiety. An occasional panic attack set in. Lack of sleep does that. It’s hard to write these words. In our society, we don’t openly talk about either physical or mental health issues. We will all suffer until we remove that stigma and learn how to talk about and face these challenges.  

The support of friends and a good counselor helped. Over-the-counter and prescription drugs, supplements and homeopathic remedies only do so much. Deep breathing, mindfulness and mediation do so much more. And these days, there’s an app for that!  

I found the best path to calmness was walking in wild places. Immersion into nature. Both the act of exercise as well as finding a quiet place to sit and contemplate. Breathe in fresh mountain air, breath out relaxation. There is no “app” for that. 

We visited the Mallard Larkins in August, because it’s remote, quiet and uncrowded. We went to Yellowstone in September. Where, faithfully, there were huge crowds around the geysers and jam-ups of cars whenever wildlife was in view of the road. We put on backpacks and headed off to a lake 8 miles from the road, leaving the crowded Yellowstone front country behind.  

We found places as remote and wild as can be. Elk rummaging through the brush and bugling all through the day and night. The cry of a loon on the lake. The howling of wolves. At times the profound sounds of silence. We saw no people at all the first two days. It was the getaway that the doctor had ordered, or at least the one that the counselor recommended. 

Back home a week later, we set out on our annual October hike to the top of Scotchman Peak. My wife and I have led groups to the top every year since 2005. And the hike never fails to inspire and to relax mind, and spirit, if not body. The air is usually cool and crisp, the birch, aspen and larch trees are turning yellow. Huckleberry bushes are bright red. Often a few inches of early-season snow have fallen, just enough to see some mountain goat tracks. The beast the color of winter Doug Chadwick calls them. And in October, they have a full coat.  

We find the joy and bliss that first-time hikers encounter to be contagious. They stop in awe at the first mountain goats we find and usually raise their hands in triumph on top. Their spirit renews our spirit as well.  

It’s hard to truly know the healing power of nature, until you experience it. My recovery is not complete, but since August, I feel like I’m on the pathway back to a healthier mind, body and soul. Wilderness will do that. I am so thankful we have wild places left, like Scotchman Peak, to both inspire and to heal us! 

We all need wild places, whether we realize it or not. In the coming year, I know I will get out there early and often and hope to keep a calm center, an even keel. I am hoping you do that as well. Maybe come along on one of our winter hikes! Regal Creek and Ross Creek are already calling to me! 

Phil Hough is the executive director of the Friends of Scotchman Peaks Wilderness.