"The mountain that stands in front of you is the calling of your life, your purpose for being here, and your path finally made clear. One day, the mountain will be behind you, but who you become in the process of getting over it will stay with you always. 

In the end, it is not the mountain that you must master, but yourself."

- Brianna Weist, author of The Mountain is You

2024 Marks our 4th year of doing the Presidential Traverse! Some things have changed so much since the first crossing in the summer of 2021. For me, year one was all about physical preparation. I was considerably weakened by a year of cancer treatment and the 23 mile treck and 8 summits above tree line was going to push me far beyond anything Id done since treatment had wound down. The priviledge of good health Iv had ever since has allowed me to pick up a Crossfit habbit starting that same summer, and more recently a minor running one which all combined makes for a baseline that makes the Traverse this year feel accessible. Hard, hell yes, but a hard I know Im capable of.  Kyle has never makes the whole thing look effortless. He's made of different stuff..

My "why" has not changed so much...

To the many that are in the middle of their cancer story, and to all of those that slipped away within it, I see you and hope to honor you with this effort. I promise that when the mountain gets hard and I start to question why the hell Im doing this,  and if I even can,  I will remind myself that I GET to do it. This mountain is a challenge of my choosing. Cancer is a challenge no one ever chose. Either way, we're both climbing mountains. 

While in the dark unknown of the  'middle" of my cancer where outcomes were opaque, far away and never promised, I held the idea of the mountains in my mind - to me, a wild place that connected me with a sense of what was real and important, and connected me with my Montana roots that in many other ways felt so far away. By some roll of the dice, my story allowed me to see the end of my cancer, to climb out of that dark and to the base of those actual mountains that had served as my mantra, my beacon, my glimmer of hope. In commemoration,  I take myself to these mountains each year now. It is my way to actively bear witness to the effort of so many others that are smack in the middle of their own cancer story. The center of once's cancer story can be all encompassing,  inescapable, and feel completely defining. Maybe by sharing a bit about my mountain it can become someones else's beacon, someone else's feeling of hope..  

Now that I have the good fortune of hindsight and of getting older, each year also provides new reasons to add to the mix for why I take myself to the mountains. I know now that a part of me requires that I commemorate cancer as place in my past vs in my present. It has been hard to put it there. It's a scary enough experience that it is all too easy to be forever looking over my shoulder, like it may be right there, again. So the mountains also remind me of the effort it took me to put it firmly in my past as just a part of my story, not the entire thing, at least not right now. This is what the tattoo serves serves to remind me of. 

Thank you for taking the time to read this.  I hope that it inspires you to support the kids and families that Camp Casco does such an incredible job of providing for, and I hope it may help you toward your own deeply felt experiences.