UNIVERSITY PLACE, WA:
Today, I embarked on my final hike of 2025 at Chambers Bay, feeling the crisp air invigorating my spirit as I set out just past noon for this urban trek. The sun was in a playful tug-of-war with the clouds, a fitting metaphor for the day ahead. After making my way down the East Slope Trail, I set foot on Chambers Creek Trail and savored the quiet solitude, with a surprising hush of New Year’s Eve in the air. My heart swelled with gratitude, not just for this moment but for the many lessons learned in the past year. Each twist and turn of the trail mirrored the complexities of life, inviting me to ponder deeper truths while I documented my thoughts in my trail journal. This hike wasn’t merely a physical endeavor; it was a tapestry of reflection, gratitude, and the beauty of nature, serving as a poignant reminder of both endings and new beginnings.
As I walked deeper into the embrace of nature, I found myself immersed in an urban forest—the rustling trees, the distant calls of birds, and the gentle rush of the creek. Each step was a dance of connection, grounding me in the present while allowing me to process the emotions that had been swirling within. Nature has a remarkable way of stripping away the noise of daily life, revealing the essence of what truly matters. This year of hiking has transformed my relationship with grief, turning it into a space where both sorrow and joy can coexist. The trails have become my companions, teaching me that healing doesn’t mean leaving behind the past; instead, it’s about walking alongside it with grace and understanding. As I captured thoughts in my journal, I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the lessons learned, the memories cherished, and the love that continues to shape my journey.
Reflecting on the year gone by, I realized that each hike was not just a physical journey but a metaphorical exploration of my inner landscape. The threads of connection, authenticity, and legacy wove themselves into my trail-thoughts, guiding my reflections and illuminating the path ahead. As I approached the end of my hike, with the final rays of sunlight still trying to break through the clouds, it was a beautiful reminder that even in the darkest moments, hope and light persist. I felt a renewed commitment to honor the legacy of Kelly, by living fully and intentionally. The practice of hiking and journaling has become my anchor, a way to stay grounded amidst the ebb and flow of life. As I step into the new year, I am eager to continue this journey, embracing the unknown with an open heart and a spirit ready to discover what awaits on the trails ahead.
The Journey…
Today, I decided to get one more hike for the year at Chambers Bay, setting off just past noon, the air crisp and invigorating at 38°F. As I stepped onto the East Slope Trail, I could sense the sun trying to break through the lingering clouds, though they clung stubbornly to the horizon. The trail wound down, leading me toward Chambers Creek Trail, where the soft crunch of my footsteps mingled with the distant hum of machinery from the golf course maintenance crew. New Year’s Eve felt surprisingly quiet out here; the parking lot was nearly empty, and I relished the tranquility as I crossed a narrow bridge over the road, with cars zooming by—a stark reminder that connecting these trails was not for the faint of heart. The contrast between this serene escape and the bustling world just a breath away added a unique charm to my hike, making it feel like a hidden sanctuary amidst the busy hum of life.
The Chambers Creek Trail unfolded before me, a wide, soft path lined with moss-draped trees and scattered remnants of fall’s splendor. As I walked, the earthy scent of damp soil enveloped me, and the gentle sounds of the rushing creek created a tranquil space. I paused to listen, enchanted by the calls of birds flitting through the trees, their voices echoing in joyful camaraderie. The trail was a refreshing change from the paved path I had just left behind; each step felt cushioned, like walking on thick padding. I ventured slightly off the main path to get closer to the creek, where a massive fallen tree beckoned me to explore. Although crossing it was tempting, I decided against it, mindful of the slippery, decaying leaves on top. With each moment, I felt more connected to this hidden world, a sanctuary where the whispers of the forest felt like an urban secret.
As I retraced my steps to the Grandview Trail, my legs started to feel the burn from the elevation gain, but the views made every effort worthwhile. The trail opened up, revealing sweeping views of the Puget Sound, with Fox Island, McNeil Island, and Anderson Island dotting the horizon. The muted colors of the overcast sky complemented the serene waters, painting a classing Pacific Northwest day. I navigated the final stretch, the Soundview Trail, where I was accompanied by a train along the waterfront—a nod to the area’s rich history before it became a golf course and urban trails. Each hill I climbed brought me closer to the end of my journey, yet I welcomed the challenge—it was a fitting way to wrap up the year. I could see the last rays of sun trying to pierce through the clouds as I approached the car, a reminder that even on the cloudiest days, the sun is still hard at work, leaving me with a heart full of gratitude for nature’s simple yet profound moments.
Gratitude…
As I pause to reflect on this past year, my heart swells with gratitude for nature and the transformative power of hiking. Nature has a remarkable ability to ground me, offering solace amidst chaos. Each time I step onto a trail, I find a sanctuary where the beauty of the surroundings invites a deep breath and a clearer mind. The rustle of trees, the scent of pine, and the gentle sounds of flowing water create a symphony that drowns out life’s distractions. I am continually amazed at how these experiences not only nourish my spirit but also provide clarity and perspective. The landscapes I traverse become mirrors, reflecting my inner journey and allowing me to process emotions in a way that feels both safe and liberating. Nature teaches me to embrace stillness, reminding me that growth often happens in quiet moments of contemplation.
Hiking, in particular, serves as an essential practice for my mind and soul, merging physical movement with emotional exploration. With every step, I feel the rhythm of my heart syncing with the pulse of the earth beneath me. The trails are more than just paths; they are conduits for healing and self-discovery. Each ascent mirrors the challenges I face, while the breathtaking views offer glimpses of hope and clarity. I find that hiking allows me to unpack complex emotions, transforming them into insights that enrich my understanding of life itself. This week, as I navigated through the mid-day New Year’s Eve traffic, on my way to this urban hike, I realized that solace can be found amidst chaos. Hiking reminds me to be present, to savor the journey, and to honor the lessons nature imparts—lessons that will guide me into the new year with a heart full of gratitude and openness to what lies ahead.
Reflections… 2025
Over the past year, hiking has transformed from a mere physical escape into a vital sanctuary for processing a journey I never anticipated. This reflection has become my trail-thought for the day. Following the loss of Kelly, the trails have provided a unique space where grief and gratitude coexist harmoniously. With several hikes and a few hundred miles covered across the stunning landscapes of the Pacific Northwest and beyond, I’ve come to understand that healing is not a linear process. Sometimes, the most profound growth occurs not in finding answers but in learning to sit comfortably with my questions. Each trail serves as a waypoint in my emotional landscape, a place where I can unpack memories, contemplate meaning, and gradually—often reluctantly—discover the person I am becoming in Kelly’s absence.
What began as a weekend escape has evolved into a deliberate practice that merges physical movement with emotional processing. At trailheads ranging from the Enchantments to the Hoh Rainforest, I’ve realized that nature demands nothing from me except my presence. The trails have taught me that emotional intelligence—the ability to recognize and manage my feelings—works hand in hand with the serenity that nature provides. While hiking, I find a rhythm to my breathing and a cadence to my steps that centers me in the present moment. My emotional responses are not obstacles but invitations to understand myself more deeply. Each steep climb reflects the challenges of my grief, and every experience offers a reward for the effort. By pairing a “trail-thought”—a specific reflection topic I bring to each hike—with the sensory experience of nature, I have created a powerful container for emotional work that books and therapy sessions alone couldn’t provide.
Reflecting on all my hikes—from the snow-covered peaks of Crystal Lakes to the majestic views of Mount Rainier, and from the breathtaking Colchuck Lake to that sacred “One Square Inch of Silence” in the Hoh Rainforest—I notice three dominant themes weaving through my trail-thoughts like threads in a tapestry. The first is connection: these hikes have reinforced that we are never truly alone in our struggles, even in moments of isolation. Brianna Wiest’s reminder that “every human being you know is fighting a quiet battle inside them” has shifted how I view people in grief support contexts and everyday life. The second theme is authenticity; I have become increasingly committed to living according to my own values rather than conforming to others’ expectations. My reflections on imposter syndrome, introversion, and the orchid hypothesis circle back to the realization that embracing my true self, rather than the person I think I should be, is where genuine peace resides.
The third theme, perhaps the most significant, is legacy. Kelly entrusted me with hopes for our children—our three little birds—and my hikes have clarified that the greatest gift I can offer them is not material but experiential. Through stories shared with my grandson about our family traditions, intentional conversations with each of my children about their mother’s dreams for them, and the modeling of grief as something to integrate rather than overcome, I weave her wishes into the fabric of their futures. Each theme has reappeared across various trails, seasons, and emotional landscapes, suggesting these are the deeper truths my soul needed to learn.
If I were to distill my hikes this past year into a single insight, it would be this: healing is not about “moving on” or “getting over” loss, but rather learning to walk alongside it with increasing grace. Early in this journey, I believed the goal was to outrun my grief or transform it into something more palatable. However, my hikes have revealed that grief and joy, sadness and gratitude, loss and love are not mutually exclusive—they form the landscape itself. I have learned that gratitude is not about minimizing pain; it’s about recognizing what still remains: my children, friendships deepened by vulnerability, moments of unexpected beauty, and Kelly’s enduring presence in vivid memories. Emotional resilience is not about becoming stronger by hardening myself; it’s about becoming more flexible and adaptive, like water flowing around stones.
My trail-thoughts have introduced me to concepts like the Spiral Model of Healing, which suggests that we do not move forward in a straight line but instead revisit experiences at deeper levels with each cycle. This understanding is profoundly comforting, reframing days when grief feels heavy as steps deeper into understanding rather than steps backward. I have come to realize that the rituals and traditions Kelly and I built matter intensely; they are not mere nostalgia but anchors that connect our children to their roots and to one another. Finally, I’ve learned that small, consistent practices—like morning rituals of gratitude and intention, evening wind-downs with music and reflection, and regular hikes with dedicated contemplation—create the conditions for stability and growth in ways that grand gestures never could.
As I stand at the threshold of a new year, I feel the weight of what’s been lost alongside the lightness of what’s being discovered. Having completed over 40 hikes and logged more than 300 miles in 2025, what matters more is that each step has brought me closer to a more authentic version of myself. I am uncertain about what the trails ahead will reveal—whether I will encounter unexpected connections, rediscover passion projects, or simply continue the quiet work of integrating this loss into a meaningful life. However, I know I’ve built a practice that works for me: the blend of physical movement, natural beauty, intentional reflection, and creative expression through writing has become my north star. I eagerly anticipate discovering new trails in 2026, both literally and metaphorically.
I want to continue exploring the mountains and forests of the Pacific Northwest while also navigating the terrain of my own becoming. Kelly’s voice still whispers encouragement from somewhere beyond the veil; I can feel it in moments of unexpected grace and in songs that arrive exactly when I need them. I am committed to honoring her legacy not through perfection but through presence, to loving our children and grandchild with the same intentionality she modeled. This sacred practice of hiking and reflecting has become my means of staying grounded, connected, and alive. The path does not end here; it continues forward into the unknown, and I am ready to see where each new step leads. The path continues…into the new year.
-Ken
- University Place, WA
- 47° 11′ 54.204″ -122° 34′ 5.34″
- 8 miles | ~1,000 ft elevation gain | ~3.5 hours
- Start: 12:50 p.m. 38-46 degrees, overcast
Musings 