December 2025

Instead of writing about one hike in December, I decided to tell you about the last two along with some reminiscing of the year. These last two hikes of the year could not have been more different from one another. Like night and day. Like two different countries. It was actually the perfect way to end 2025, because it made me really spend time in reflection of the year and how the differences on each hike really did make the year stand out. Those differences broke me and re-made me literally from one week to the next. Every experience was felt deep into my bones and the very core of my soul. The more time we spent on the trail together, the more we seemed to treasure every moment.....the miserable ones and the mountain top ones. The struggles built character and endurance and the peaceful beauty filled me with an unbelievable contentment and quietness within. Even though there was surely misery, when I think back on 2025, I count it all joy! But that is truly how my walk with God goes. I follow Him and it is joyful. He keeps His promises in His timing. My job is to trust and keep going; in the valleys and on the mountains. Sometimes, I swear I hear Him whisper, "Keep going daughter, keep going."

Now, let me tell you a bit about the last two hikes of the year. On Christmas Eve, I was drawn to doing something hard. Stupid hard. I don't know what got into me, but this often happens when I feel too much stress in my life. I need to blow some steam and I know one really good way to do that.....push myself until I only want to die, then push farther and then farther again. I push until I no longer even have a conscious thought in my mind and I am simply two moving legs finding momentum from some unknown source within. I walk until I am numb. I have found that I am really good at walking. Walking to the end of myself. I know that place well and I hate her and love her all at the same time. The man inside me tells me I am an awesome beast. The woman within tells me I am insane. But I love being a woman who is tougher than most men I know. I am tougher than I look and it is from pure determination, grit and bitterness. I also have no self control on the trail. It is not like there is an off switch or a stop sign out there. I just keep going. I suppose the day will come when I can only be trusted with loop hikes, where the trail has to take me back to the truck and I no longer have control over how far we go. But this Christmas Eve hike was not a loop and I knew exactly what I needed to do.

Since I knew what was in my heart before we even left the house, I decided to leave Miss NovaLeigh at home with her Papa who was sitting by a warm fire watching Christmas movies all day. Nova would have hated everything about the cold snowy day ahead. It also surely would have blown out her only non-bionic knee remaining. So the Arctic Wolf and I drove through snow in 4WD to get to the place we were going to dump the truck and start off on foot. It was a place I knew well. It was a place where I know the snow falls hard and deep up the steep mountainous terrain. I very deliberately left all three pairs of snow shoes in the back of my truck. We were going to do this on foot only. (Okay, I did have spikes on my feet so I could have traction). But I was not going to cheat with snowshoes. We were going to sink and climb until it nearly killed us. That was all part of the experience.

The snow started off only sinking to our ankles as we began the climb. I laughed at nature, almost willing her to fight us. When the climb started in earnest, the snow reached my knees. After a few more miles and steep switchbacking, we found ourselves post holing with every single step to our groins. Josie was hitting her stomach with each step and me to my crotch. Even Josie looked at me as if to check my sanity. Mile after mile, we would take a step and sink as deep as we bodily could sink. Then we would claw our way up out of the deep hole with all the energy our bodies contained and sink again immediately on the very next step, right back to our groins. We tried to take huge steps to lesson the number of times we had to climb back up, but after miles of this, it didn't really matter. We were wet to the skin despite many layers. The sun was going down and the wind was picking up as we got higher on the peak. We were climbing at least 2000 feet of elevation on this stair stepper from hell. I hit my wall about the same time as the Wolf. I wanted to scream. I wanted to curse. I wanted to be anywhere but there in that moment. But then, I dug deep and gave the Beast an encouraging word and a cookie and we pushed on. Up and down we clawed at the snow. About every tenth step the snow would hold one foot on its surface and I wouldn't sink down. I wanted to cheer for joy and raised my hands high above my head in celebration each time. But the next step would sink me to my waist. How much could we take I wondered? I was beaten and exhausted. But I was still thinking. There were still feelings going on inside me. That was unacceptable in my mind; we had not yet reached the point we needed to reach. So we pushed harder and farther.

On and on and on some more we went. I hit that wall 3 times over and kept pushing. "We must keep going" I muttered over and over to Josie. Bless that Wolf's giant heart as she stayed by my side struggling with me. Never once did she complain or try to head back to the truck. I would tell myself one more switchback, one more corner, one more rise, up to one more tree. We pushed and pushed. When I was sure there was nothing left to give, I dug a bit deeper and moved around another bend. I could no longer feel anything from my waist down. I was no longer even feeling cold. Onward we pushed. I was aware that snow had pushed up inside the gaiter of my left ankle and a huge ball of ice was now painfully wedged at the top of my snow boot. I did not care. I no longer cared about anything. I no longer cared if I lived or died. In fact, I realized death would be the easy way out as I wouldn't have to move any further. I looked at Josie. She was in the same trance I was in. We were both as numb on the inside as we were on the outside. We had become robots. "One more step." "One more step." I chanted over and over until I could no longer speak. We finally reached the moment I had needed.

That is when it happened. We both fell into the snow on our faces and laid there for a long, long time. I eventually rolled onto my side and pulled my camera out of the pouch on my waist to document the moment I killed the Wolf. Then I rolled onto my back and became aware of a large dark colored bird circling us. He circled lower and lower as if checking to see if we were still alive or if he could start eating us yet. A slow smile briefly spread across my frozen face as he loudly made a clicking sound and then "CaKawed" as he circled. He saw my breath in the air and knew I was not dead yet.

Eventually the Wolf slithered over to me and we lay together. I made a snow ball in my gloved hands to suck on as my water line was frozen. Josie wanted some too, so I made her snow balls to eat. It was not helping our hypothermia by any means, but I had ceased to care. "We did it", I told her. "We have wrestled with God just like Jacob from the Bible". We had wrestled with Him until it had grown dark and I had forgotten about everything that brought me to this place. I reached into my pack to find some food. Josie slowly and deliberately ate the meaty treats I handed her. We snuggled up next to a fallen tree blanketed in deep snow and looked up into the dark sky. It was cloudy, but every now and then I could see a star trying to pierce through the thick layer above. It had been snowing on and off all day. As snow lightly fell on my face and stuck to my eyelashes, I opened my mouth to catch the flakes. I knew we had to get up and head back to the truck. Not in defeat, but in victory of achieving our goal. I had fought and wrestled until nothing remained and I was done. It was finished. The only problem was that I no longer had any gas in my engines. I had saved nothing. I had left it all on the field as they say.

If I am being honest, I really don't remember much at all about the miles we hiked out on this dark and snowy Christmas Eve. There are little pieces that come to mind when I try hard to think what happened. I remember snow falling on my face. I remember taking my hat and hood off and lifting my face to the sky. I remember trying to step back into the giant holes we made climbing up to save energy. I remember once trying to just slide, but only sinking. I remember when having to climb over a fallen tree that I stopped on top of him and just laid hugging that wide trunk until the Wolf pulled me off onto the ground in a slump. The miles somehow passed. My mind was absolutely silent. There was nothing inside me. No despair. No joy. Nothing but numbness and utter quiet. True quietness of my mind is the greatest gift of all. Such a rarity to get to that place. If only I could find a way to get there without almost dying.

Before I knew it, I was standing beside my snowy truck and the moon broke out overhead. I put the Wolf in the back seat and stripped off all my wet clothing to change. As I stood there buck naked in the moonlight standing barefoot on my wet snow pants on the ground, I did not feel anything. That was the first bit of excitement that finally jumped back into my mind. "Maybe I have finally breached the 90 degree mark!!" I said to myself as I rummaged for my thermometer. Every winter, I have this stupid goal to get my body temperature below 90 degrees on the trail....and well, not be dead in the process. I have gotten very, very close. But sadly, this was not to be. I was still in the 93 degree range. "Alas" I said as I climbed into the driver seat and turned on the engine and heaters. I sat there for a very long time, eating salty Pringles chips from a can, and staring up at the moon. Josie was too tired to eat her after hike bone and was as silent as death behind me. I was at peace and I thanked God for the day and wished Him a Merry Christmas before I finally drove home.

One week to the day, I needed to choose another hike. I instantly knew where we should go for New Year's Eve. Neither Josie or I had any desire to see snow. Nova was ready to be back on the trail with us and couldn't understand why we were still so tired. (Just like Jacob who wrestled with God, I wondered if I would forever have a limp after my wrestling match the previous week). I can admit that I was not at 100%. But we drove east anyway. We were going east of the Dalles Oregon for this hike. This is the road that requires I listen to Bonnie Tyler on the CD player. It is funny I know, but there are certain sections of roads where I HAVE to listen to certain music. I can't even think about those places without hearing the songs. There are Clay Walker roads, John Denver roads, Dierks Bentley roads and whole regions that call for the Rolling Stones and their song Paint it Black. Each of the mountains have their own play lists. I don't know how it starts, but if I get near the Dalles, Bonnie Tyler comes out. Other than Dolly Parton, she is one of the only female artists I like to listen to.

As we pulled up to the rolling golden fields, we hit the trail feeling the sunshine on our skin. The high was only 28 degrees, but I was soon stopping to take off layers as it seemed so much warmer as the sun kissed us. We were walking beside a large river, probably as full as I had ever seen it. I was hoping to find our friends, the Bighorn Sheep, who live in the area, but instead became distracted in the tall golden grasses that grew beside the river. I stretched my arms out to my sides and felt each golden head as we moved along. It was so warm and magical and easy, that I almost forget the previous week could even have happened. How did we go from that place to this I wanted to ask Josie. But she kept stopping on the trail and just wanted to stare at the grassy fields, the rolling hills, the sun and stream. She was as shocked and smitten as I was. I felt like we were no longer on the same planet. It felt like our story of survival and being born again.

While quietly walking on the path along the river watching the sun go down and finally feeling the frigid cold air come up around us, I got to thinking about how many hikes this year have given me feelings of great contrast like these last two hikes in December. Even within the same hikes, there were so many conflicting moments. For instance, 2025 was hands down the very best year for wildflowers that I have ever seen!!! It was surreal and I don't think I will ever see the likes of the riots of yellows, purples and reds we had this year. But in contrast, every wildflower spring hike, brought the worst tick season I have ever experienced. The good with the bad. I had at least three ticks embedded in my body in 2025 and pulled EIGHT from my skull and through my shoulder length hair. Then there were dozens and dozens I pulled off my skin and clothing that did not have a chance to take a blood meal from me. The belief that tick bites don't hurt and they inject something when they bite to numb you is just plain wrong. I had one embedded in my abdomen that was super painful and itched for days. But was it worth it? Oh man, yes, it was worth every disgusting, painful bite! The dark clouds of mosquitos were also some of the worst I have experienced. But there were virtually no biting flies this year. Strange, I know.

Over and over in 2025, we watched some of the most incredible sun rises and sun sets we have ever seen. The colors were bold and shocking. Golds, purples, pinks, oranges and reds. It was a riot in the sky and it took my breath away every single time. The peace and beauty incredibly astounding. I have become obsessed with sunsets. Previously I couldn't decide if I liked sunrises or sunsets most. This year, I finally made up my mind. Sunsets are my passion.

However, to get to the peaks where we could watch these stunning sky shows, we had to ford some of the worst and most dangerous rivers I had ever done. I will likely never forget one of those rivers as long as I live. It was the hardest I had ever tried. During the day when we crossed it the first time, it was terrifying, but barely manageable. On the way back, in the dark of night, the water had risen if that was even possible and the current was worse. I almost lost Nova when she was swept away with the currents, instantly sucked under the deep waters. Only her leash tied to me and very fast reflexes on my part saved her. God surely sent our guardian angel directing my ever move. I was one second away from being swept over the waterfall with her and pulling Josie in after us. I saw it all happen in the flash when she went under water. It terrified me and has now changed how much I am willing to push on river fords. I have vowed to myself that if there is a good chance we will die trying it, we are not to do it....at least not if Nova is with us. I will never forget the terror on her face when I got her up out of the water and held onto her on that sandy shore on my knees in the dark. I had nightmares for weeks after that crossing. Such a close call. They likely would not have found our bodies for a very long time if we had been swept over the falls and down that river into God knows where. I plan to never, not ever, hike that section of trail again. I also find I am not super fond of ropes on the trail. They just plain suck when you are tied to two partners. Up and down. Suck.

This year, I became obsessed with finding hidden lakes. I would search maps for off trail lakes and then set out to bush-whack my way to finding them. Big ones, tiny ones, I did not care. The more I found, the more I wanted to find others. The harder they were to find, the more spectacular and special they felt. They were secret places to skinny dip. They were an oasis of peace. They were goals to accomplish with the reward in the cool blue waters reflecting the sky and mountains above them. I fell in love with the secret lakes.

However, my search for these lakes led to some very creative hiking. While I was on these lake searching hikes, I would realize that if we went far enough and long enough on some trails, that there were other nearby trails that we could bush-whack over to and instead of going out the same way we came in, we would make epic loops connecting two to three trails and even some forest service road hiking to make one giant hike. These often pushed us into the 16-20 mile day hike range with huge elevation gains and losses. Some were dangerous when I didn't know if the idea in my head would work and had not brought maps to check. They were wild ideas that turned into wild hikes. These mileages aren't much if you are a thru hiker or on flat terrain. But with driving 4-5 hours, hiking 20 miles, climbing 4000-5000 feet of elevation sometimes in snow or terrible conditions, never knowing if you will get back to your truck the way you are thinking, it has taken a toll on my body and mind. Mental exhaustion is worse and more taxing on your body than physical exhaustion, I can tell you that with total confidence.

I know I am soon to turn 52 years old, but I have had to admit that my body is not what it was even five years ago. I have blown up with foot problems this year. Plantars Fasciitis is no joke and like being repeatedly stabbed deeply in your heel when you least expect it with a thick knife. Bunions are super painful, especially on the descents and have caused me to increase the size of my hiking boot. I now understand that shin splints feel a bit like your bone is on fire. The arthritis in my hips has not improved and my heavy pack weight across them has not helped. My shoulders and neck are struggling from the constant pounding pack as well. To top it off, my bad knee has screamed at me more times than I would like in 2025. It is as if my body is revolting from the constant weekly hiking, year after year after year. I am going into my 7th year of non stop year round hiking now in 2026. I recognize that I am going to have to scale back in miles soon. Or alternate big mile hikes with smaller mile hikes. I know I need to slow down my pace. I don't have to climb uphill at 4 mph with a heavy pack in 100 degree weather. I just need to scale down the intensity a bit. But convincing myself of this before I do it is another thing entirely. It comes back to that self control. I just do it, and then regret it later. I am convinced I am still 25 years old. Some day, I will get to the place within myself where I can make better decisions before the pain. Maybe in 2026. Again, you may ask, is this all worth it?? I still will say 100% guaranteed!! I would not take away what I have done....only the pain if that was possible. But as they say, no pain, no gain!

This year, I have run into the most number of Forest Rangers I have ever met. Strange, since this is the year that politics have taken away Rangers and cut money to trails. But every outhouse has had toilet paper and the numerous Rangers have generally been a happy, albeit motley crew. Except for that one who knew I was breaking rules and I was being far too evasive for him. It did not help that I was hearing voices at the time trying to make me giggle. Surely that August hike had to be the funniest of the year for me!

Unlike most years, I did not find a single hunter this year. Not one. Normally, I spend all of October and November dressing the girls in bright colors and wrapping orange scarves around their harnesses. It as as if all hunting had been banned this year, and I could not figure out what was happening. I was in all the places you would normally find them, but they were missing. Not that I missed them, I might add. I was growing tired of having rifles pointed at me when we would break through the woods. Some of those guys were very good looking though, so maybe I missed that part just a little.

There was one hike in November that had me convinced I had finally lost my sanity though. We were weaving through a tight forest right after having run into a large herd of Elk. Everything had been silent, except for a gentle breeze through the trees. Suddenly I heard very distinct and distant jingle bells. They were loud and getting closer and closer to us. It sounded like Christmas and I just stood there, dumbfounded. I remember turning to the girls who had also frozen in spot seeming to be having the same hallucination I was. Finally we saw it. There was a German Shorthair Pointer dressed in a bright orange vest covered in bells strapped to him darting here and there with his nose to the ground exploring. I must say, that he wasn't a very good tracker as he never, not once, saw me silently standing there on the trail with a Wolf and a dog in a tutu. That is until a few minutes later when he had gone back to his owners and they came down the trail with him. At this point, as I drug the girls as far off trail as I could get so the Wolf wouldn't attack the silly mongrel, I stood speechless at what was in front of me. The man and woman, who clearly belonged to the jingle bell dog, were literally covered head to toe in bright orange. I have never seen so much orange in my life. Hats, jackets, pants, bandanas.....they were nothing but orange. It hurt my eyes. Surely their underwear must have been orange I thought. My senses just could not process it and I watched them walk by not being able to say a word. Of course, I was dressed all in blacks and greys and pretty much melted into my surroundings. Clearly these guys had expected hunters in the forests too. I wondered if they were disappointed that all their orange was for nothing.

I remembered another hike up near Mt. Hood. One of the few this year where I have run into humans. I am guessing it is the trails God has chosen for me this year, but I have had very, very few human encounters. This one sadly got me stuck on a slender winding trail slowly climbing switchbacks behind a group of 6 folks in their mid 60's. They were not far from the trailhead and not moving very fast. I was not sure how far they planned to go, but I knew we would have a lot of trouble passing them. The Wolf has grown to be better with one or even two humans on trail (as long as they don't have a dog with them), but large groups do her in. She would likely panic if I tried to get her past this group of 4 men and 2 women. They were spaced every 4 feet apart except for the strangler in the back who stayed probably 20-30 feet back from the others. I quickly figured out why. He was crop dusting us. Audibly. Clearly, we were moving so silently that he could not hear the three of us right behind him. I hung my head in disgust as both girls turned to look at me in shock. I raised my palm up to them in the "I know, I know" symbol of comradery and understanding and smiled. We could not get the giggles. So we kept following the crop duster. After probably a half mile they stepped off to go on a side trail and were clearly stopping for a break. The women were being all dramatic about not wanting to stand under trees (hello...we are in a forest) since it was a super windy day and the trees were all bending and creaking to the point they obviously thought they were going to die. Either that, or they just like to be hysterical. I was rolling my eyes as I tried to quickly pass them. I did not want to engage with hysterical women and crop dusters in the forest. But of course they had turned to talk to one another and saw us. That is when the "ohs and ahs" started to come over the dogs. They jumped into trying to talk to me and ask questions and be all kinds of human. I tried something new that has since stuck with me. I waved, I nodded, I smiled, but I did not speak. I figured I would let them think I was either hearing impaired, mute, or had taken a vow of silence. I instantly vowed that I was not going to speak the entire day. I have already noticed that as I have gotten older, I am more economical with my words in conversation, but taking total vows of silence on hiking days is golden and I wish I had done so sooner. Of course, I break this vow for all muscular good looking mountain men who are feeling chatty. I might be old, but I am not dead yet and I want to enjoy the views.

Other contrasts came in days so warm I was sure I would burst into flames and become a dehydrated shell of a human to the cold, cold backpacking nights when the Wolf popped my air mattress so I could lay on the even colder and harder ground. There was the night filled with screaming and dying water fowl along the river in the desert with the Wolf standing over my body barring her teeth and snarling at predators I did not see in the long grasses just outside our camp circle. There were peaceful grazing goats in the Goat Rock Wilderness. There was the time I thought I found an alligator preserve and a monster in the back of a mine shift, only to find a plastic gator and mice jumping off walls. There was the intense harvest of blueberries and the wild storms full of dark clouds and far off thunder. The waterfalls have been incredible. Watching the sun piercing down through the canopy of evergreens, leaving sun shafts to light up the forest floor was truly spectacular. The jagged peaks and rounded mountains. The bluish purple horizons of far away peaks I have yet to climb. The blaze of Fall colors. The screaming marmots who played peak a boo with us. The giant Elk who played hide and seek behind trees. There have been the night hikes, our searches for Bigfoot, glaciers and snow bridges, running into chainsaw wielding motorcyclists on trail (twice!), the mossy groves and pocket meadows.... it has all just been spectacular! My memories are full of so many incredible and life changing moments. Yes, some terrible. Some painful. Very painful. Some wet and cold and miserable. But mostly the greatest parts of my life are on the trail. The days I would never trade for anything are from the trail. I would rather be miserable on trail than off. No amount of money could buy these experiences. They are truly priceless to me. Sure it is costing me in permanent joint, bone and ligament damage. But it is worth every painful blister.

I discover myself looking forward to 2026 in awe and wonder. I cannot wait to see what God brings me this year. By now, I like to think that He looks forward to our weekly adventures as much as I do. I adore talking to Him all day long as we walk. I love how He communicates with me. I can feel His praise and respect and laugh at His humor. His laugh is one I feel trembling deep inside myself. I can feel when He knows I am being stupid, but doesn't stop me, letting me learn instead. I always know that He has the grace to pick up the pieces without too many I told you so rebukes later. He also knows I am quick to admit to doing something stupid on my own and laughing at my own mistakes afterwards. If we can't make fun of ourselves, then we are just too serious. Of course, I spend six days a week being pretty serious, so hiking day for me is just a grand adventure.

In the New Year, I am going to take a bit of a step back in what I share. I likely will not post as much or as often as I want to hold some adventures close to me and keep them private just for my own heart, mind and soul. But I will continue to post on our Facebook page and this blog when I feel you may want to hear about a story or see pics I am willing to share. I hope you enjoy reading about our adventures and feel a bit like you are on the journey with us. Most of all, I hope you will look for your own relationship with Jesus. Your relationship with the God of the universe does not need to be the same as mine. Find whatever works for you and Him and spend the time together. Make it a priority. I promise you will not regret it if you truly give it your all. The girls and I are here to cheer you on. Reach out to us anytime! We would love to hear about your journey too.

"Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you"

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18