Decision
My daughter forgets nothing. A decade ago, after my mother and I found ourselves increasingly alone atop the Grand Canyon during the 2013 federal government shutdown, hiking rim-to-rim in a day through the canyon we were only allowed to view from above seemed like a reasonable ambition. It was perhaps out of a sense of budding parental grandeur that I mentioned it to my daughter, then 9. Fast forward to last month. The idea for a multi-week car camping road trip came in conjunction with the realization that the flat environs of Chicago weren't going to provide sufficient altitude nor elevation to prepare myself for this expedition that is now, at my daughter's impetus, a few weeks away. The impulse to just up and leave, alternating driving, hiking, camping, and working on my way to the Grand Canyon took time to germinate. The more I leaned into it, mapping out a potential route, reviewing my work schedule, and simply considering is this something I want to do?, the more possible it seemed. Or perhaps, the less I resisted. I'm not sure I ever really decided to go, but rather made the first of many trips to the outdoor store, REI. Sometimes it is easier to put an intention into motion rather than to make a conscious decision to which I would feel somehow accountable. Investing in equipment generated momentum. Now that I have a new water bottle, I might as well go! The purchases started simple. As if having practiced some psychological sleight-of-hand, eventually I was committed. What else was I going to do with a thick, extra large sleeping pad?
