I am not outdoorsy. I’ve never been the type of girl to pull on a pair of hiking boots and hit the trails, usually I’d rather hit the mall. Some people need to be outside to feel like human being, they find their “center” outside. All I ever find is bugs. Lately, however, I’ve been voluntarily spending more and more time outside. It probably has something to do with the fact that it’s finally warm enough for me and my poorly functioning circulatory system to feel comfortable. Or maybe I’m just finally getting to that point in my life where I can experience nature for what it is.

I am by no means a stranger to the woods of Pennsylvania; I spend a week every year walking and sitting in the woods in the snow and cold, hunting with my dad. Unfortunately my preoccupation with trying not to get frostbite normally snatches away any opportunity to actually enjoy the experience.

I did get back to nature a little more last year, with my first hiking expedition sans a rifle in years. My cousin Sarah, an avid hiker, invited me to go with her on a day hike on a section of the Appalachian Trail that runs close to her home in the Harrisburg area. We had a great time, even though I had to stop after two hours of hiking due to half-dollar sized blisters on both of my heels. The fact that I had such a good time, spending a night out in the woods with my cousin and the other selection of people who happened to be staying at the campsite that night, was the first step of what’s become my own personal journey into self-discovery.

Since last summer I’ve gotten in more hiking experience. Often I accompany a close friend of mine around her property in Nuangola, walking up to the top of the small mountain and partaking in priceless conversations. I find that I learn more about myself on hikes than I ever do in my hours of pondering during the work day. Now that I think of it, these mini-revelations are part of what got me hooked on running a few years ago. I’ve always been a solitary individual; I was never one of those chicks who went to the bathroom in groups. And spending an hour or two in Ricketts Glen or at the Seven Tubs or just walking around the country roads behind my parents’ house gives me more insight to myself then I’ve ever found in any yoga classes.

Recently I decided to test my theory and take a solitary hike around Ricketts Glen State Park. It took me a little longer than I expected, and I managed to get to the park around 6:00pm. Needless to say in order to abide by the sunset closing-time rule I had to book it around the trails. I walked along the Falls trail, noting the sounds of birds and crickets and rushing water and feeling powerful in my independence. So maybe I do find my “center” of sorts, or maybe I’m just peeling back layers of the figurative onion of my true self, whatever it is I know it feels good.

While I was rounding every corner and climbing up every step on the trail at Ricketts Glen, I felt a sense of accomplishment; I was leading my own hike. I was a capable female alone in the wilderness, mastering the trails. I was outdoorsy, at least for a moment.