We ended up taking the Ice House trail to the 8,859-foot summit and hiked nearly 12 miles there and back.
I attended two weddings in the past year, and I was the maid of honor at both of them. I planned two bachelorette parties—one that never happened and the other where I sustained head trauma and ended up in the ER.
I was able to understand the bride better as I got to know the other incredibly smart and caring young women.
We’re clearly out there. The mountains are also a melting pot of a variety of different people hiking native lands, and yet we are only now barely seeing these faces in popular media.
I wrote a poem with the LA River in mind, but I also drew parallels between the river and the highways that weave in and around Los Angeles.
I still had my eyes on other peaks but being able to freely trek to the top of Baden-Powell with friends that day was satisfying.
The most important thing you need to do in order to overcome nearly any obstacle is to take a step back and breathe.
I wanted to write a poem about my love for the sun even though summer calls for a much more intense presence. I still stand transfixed by the view and wanted to write down my unorganized thoughts and share them with you.
To say that I love to hike is an understatement. Hiking is the medium I use to reset and release. I enter nature, my church, with filthy boots and athletic wear and can maintain my peace.
Reading was an escape to another adventure different from our own. We could travel beyond the words printed on the page and climb to new heights previously unknown.