For the past few summers my sons and I have hiked across the Olympic National Park. The park with its surrounding forests and protected wilderness areas total nearly one million acres. Roads go around the park and will penetrate the outer edges, but the vast majority of the park is kept as wilderness and is only accessible by foot or in a few cases by horse. A series of primitive trails and rudimentary camping sites wind throughout the park.
Armed with a GPS, a good topographic map and backpacks full of supplies we are dropped off at the edge of the park. Five to six days later we are picked up at a designated location at the opposite edge of wilderness. There is no cell reception in the park and very few park rangers monitor the trails. Once you get a few hours beyond the perimeter you rarely see another hiker.
There are unbelievable moments each year accompanied by real dangers and physical exhaustion. There inevitably is a moment every trip when secretly I wonder if I will make it home. I know this is not the most extreme adventure one can have, regardless, it delineates the outer boundaries of my comfort zone. This is the closest thing to a wilderness experience I have ever had.
Despite the challenges, the hike is always extremely rewarding. I bond with my children in an uncommon way, appreciate the natural world at a deeper level and am forced to consider life’s necessities. As we emerge from the park I am always surprised at how grateful I am for the simple conveniences of modern life — a hot shower, clean sheets and even a prepared meal at Applebee’s Family Restaurant. I am equally appalled at many of the choices we have made as a society and what we individually choose to surround ourselves with. The annual excursion into the wilderness allows me to see the world and the things we make more clearly..