Adventure Some Women is an online Facebook community geared towards connecting women with other women who all answer the call of the wild. These women are just like you and me. They are mothers, daughters, wives, girlfriends, business owners, professionals, but most importantly they love being out in nature.
There’s a special breed who live for dawn. While you’re asleep we tip-toe out of bed. We yearn for the unspeakable hour. A 2am wakeup call means nothing. There’s anticipation in the air when we lace up our boots by headlamp; our foggy breath obscuring our vision. A morning cup of joe high in the mountains sounds like the perfect coffee date. Nothing beats skiing a fresh line of powder shortly after sunrise. The pyramid shadow of the mountain points us to the next horizon. We live by the sun. We are dawn patrol.
Layers upon layers of endlessly steeper and higher peaks surround you. You’ve been walking for days, but each rotation of the earth is more astonishingly beautiful than the last. Every village you stop in you’re immediately treated like family. Your guide has been coming to this region for nearly 15 years, he knows everyone like a brother and you, by default, are extended family. Taking a break on the trail you share a snack with your team and a stranger. Open arms, open hearts, and breathtaking scenery. None of this would be possible without the team at Trekking Planner Nepal.
I never thought I’d be that person who had more than one sleeping bag, a backpack for any occasion, and 2 snowboard setups. But alas, it happened and hey, I’m pretty happy about it. However epically awesome “gear mountain” may become, there comes a time where plastic bins just don’t cut it anymore. That time for me was when I was packing for an impromptu backpacking trip and couldn’t find my headlamp. So what did I do? Waited six months until the weather got crappy and got to work fitting out some unfinished space in my basement to show off all my gear by building a DIY gear room. In the end I had one bitching backcountry closet that didn’t break the bank.
I stand there, frozen, unable to speak, pinching a ledge of rock about a knuckle deep for dear life. We had bushwhacked our way up a Castlewood Canyon to hang out on some walls and get our climb on – however at that moment it was the last thing I could bring myself to do. Half way up a route where the holds went from gentle 5.9 jugs to a grueling 5.11a. finger killers. There I was, stuck in my sick fantasy on how was I going to fall to certain death. Tears started to trickle down my face.