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The Things We Carry

And Finding Time to Let Them Go

On a bluebird sky kind of summer day in Vermont, I carried my water shoes, towels, a change of clothes, sunscreen and bug spray as my daughter Emily and I made our way through Moosealoo National RecreationArea, kicking up a trail of dust on the road to Sugar Hill Reservoir and then on to the path to the water. 

My Osprey Tempest 20 felt lighter than normal, and not just because of its Airscape Suspension technology. My load was indeed lighter, and, quite honestly, more joyous.

This was a day without deadlines and camp drop offs. My 8-year-old Emily and I  were in Vermont on the day before she would spend almost a month at sleepaway camp. Since we live in New Jersey it was a treat to be there. 

We decided to have a free-day to play in the water, followed by our summer tradition of a tall maple creemee impossibly perched on a sugar cone. To make it even more fun, I invited some friends and favorite plus-size adventurers: Mirna Valerio, the famed ultra marathoner, skier, and beyond, and the two founders of Thicket Adventure, Arwen Turner and Kara Hardman, to join us.

This is our tradition each summer, when I send my kiddos off to camp; I schedule a day to play with my friends while in this beautiful state. Yes, schedule. I run The Gorgeous Agency(Opens in a new window), which focuses on body inclusivity, and a family with a husband and three kids (and a St. Bernard named Penny). My calendar can look like a game of Tetris with every little thing, from workouts, work to the air-traffic-controller-like way it is to track three kiddos ages 16,11 and 8 during the summer months – trying to find its way into a finite period of time. 

So scheduling is the only way. Because, seriously, If I can’t find time to be outside, what am I doing all of this for? 

Not to mention finding time with friends, the people so near and dear to my heart even though we are scattered across the country and sometimes the globe. 

I had a bazillion other things to do that day, but as we drove out of service, the notifications silenced and I hoped my friends were on their way with the coordinates I sent them earlier in the day. One by one they made their way down the path to the reservoir. This day was the perfect confluence of friendship, great weather and an even better landscape to just play. 

Just knowing that they were on their way made me giddy. But to know they were on their way, first with the rumble of tires on the long gravel road leading to the reservoir, then the opening of the car door and the all-consuming hugs of friends who, no matter how much time has passed, are so happy to see you. I was even happier to see Arwen had brought a paddle board. 

We made haste to the water and splashed, swam, belly laughed and blissed out on friendship and fun. 

It makes sense that I surround myself with people who are a bit wild and would want to spend time in the middle of nowhere. And I was glad to teach my kiddo to do the same. 

Wild is my nature. I grew up with a forest for a front yard in rural Canada. It’s no wonder that the outdoors feels like home. Skyward trees are my power ups, letting my thinking be as expansive as their reach into the heavens. So being in nature feels like home. 

But now that I live in suburban NJ, I still have to make a point to be out in nature and capture my experience, doing so as a way to break trail for others. No, they may not find their way to Moosaloo or Kilimanjaro, but they will discover their own wild places and wander – or like us – wade. 

As a young adult, I didn’t spend a lot of time outdoors because it was hard to find gear that fit me. Today I have a backpack made for me, the Osprey Tempest 20 — it has an extended hipbelt that fits up to 70 inches, easy-to-reach pockets, longer sternum straps and even a hitch for a bike helmet. I can comfortably take this 20L pack on summer hiking and winter snowshoeing adventures. 

As a plus-size adventurer for more than a decade, there are many things I carry as I hike: I’ve made three journeys up Kilimanjaro, hiked 100 miles of The Long Trail, down the Grand Canyon and back up again (without the assistance of a donkey), and many miles in between. It was time to take a load off. 

I carry the feeling that I need to explain to everyone why I belong on the trail. I carry the feeling that the only reason I’m in nature moving my body is to change my body. I carry the pain in my knees that are still waiting for surgery. I carry the what ifs of life — I worry about every little thing that can go wrong. Even when I’m hiking in my home state of New Jersey and I’m two miles from a population hub, I think emergency supplies are necessary. So I have a tendency to overpack, my downfall on a backpacking trip. This can be the blessing and curse of more capacity in your bag. Maybe it’s because I fear what I have and what I am is enough. But I fill my pack with nourishment – for me and my daughter, and my friends.

Still, with a bag made for me and all I carry, I make my way through the woods. Or in this case, to the water. 

While there was chatter, I let my feet float to the surface, and floated, catching a glimpse of my emerald green Osprey pack on the shore. I set my head back in the water and could be still. The ripples around me flattened and the only movement was my breath. 

While my daughter paddled her way near the shore, with the mountains crowning her, I knew we both needed more of this. And I needed to show her that the best adventures are when you find yourself with those you love, especially friends — because this is where you let go of what you carry. 

In life there are so many things we hold on to – beyond our backpacks. Our expectations, our trauma, our judgements… quite literally, the weight of the world. If I could teach her one thing, is that every once in a while, find opportunities to let it all go. 

The truth is, I’m in nature for moments like this. Whether I’m sweating as I scramble up a peak or just soaking in a lake, I’m there to be me.  

To have gear that is made for us opens the door to adventure. So while we may be carrying so many things along the way, fear, our past stories, or judgment, we don’t need to focus on gear not fitting. 

And now I carry the way for my daughter, may it always be lighter and more joyous along her path. 

Kara Richardson Whitely is the author of Gorge: My Journey Up Kilimanjaro at 300 Pounds (Opens in a new window)and CEO of The Gorgeous Agency. (Opens in a new window)

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