waking up
photo by: colton zobel
growing up, my sister and I were thrust basically into every sport until we found what we liked, which ultimately landed us in soccer and running competitively. but, despite being very active children, we went camping exactly one time as a family during our childhood.
it was, classically, an overambitious trip – in that we backpacked up a mountain to our campsite – and we were pretty young, like, weren’t even carrying full-sized school backpacks young. the trip was my dad’s brainchild, and when I look back on it, all I have are positive memories of hiking, waking up to hot chocolate by the campfire and swimming in a river chasing crawfish, but it was ultimately quite disastrous in that we apparently got lost on the way to the car and my mom was fully not into the whole ordeal. we attempted one other trip years later, which required us to canoe across a river to get to the campsite. unsurprisingly, we never actually made it across the river, nor did we end up camping. (don’t worry, we laugh about it now)
so, while I inherited a very deep love and connection to the outdoors from my dad, I certainly did not have a wealth of experience or knowledge regarding camping or spending any significant amount of time in the wilderness.
enter: the entire western US.
in 2020, I dislocated my patella while dancing in my living room. I slipped on the wet tile floor, and my kneecap slipped fully to the outer edge of my knee before sling-slotting itself back into place, leaving me with a partial PCL tear that I, very fortunately, didn’t end up needing surgery for, but did require months in a knee brace and a lot of physical therapy. I’ve always been a pretty active individual, so this forced downtime drove me absolutely stir-crazy. consequently, the moment I was cleared for normal activity, I jumped in the car with my dog and drove twelve hours to albuquerque to spend a week hiking and camping with my best friend.
this was the first time I’d been camping since the ill-fated childhood trip, and I was stoked. I’d been dying to go on a trip for years, but had been unable to talk anyone into going with me, so this was my first opportunity. and I don’t know what my expectation of new mexico was really before I got there, but I can tell you with absolute certainty that it isn’t what I found.
growing up on the east coast, specifically coastal virginia, I was used to a very specific landscape. trees. forests. flat sandy beaches. my only references for mountains where the blue ridges in shenandoah, and the smokey mountains in north carolina. all beautiful spaces that still hold a special place in my heart, but nothing like what I was about to experience.
I spent a week hiking in the sandias and jemez springs and I fell in love. I didn’t realize how much I missed forests, and I was awestruck by the raw beauty of the vast and ever-changing landscapes each day. from slot canyons to ridgelines, to hot springs, to my first ever experience bouldering, new mexico sunk its teeth in me -- there’s a reason it’s called the land of enchantment. when it came time to leave, I was hard-pressed to start the drive home. and once I got back to san diego, as happy as I was to be back by the ocean, I couldn’t shake the itch to get back into the wild. but, I was simultaneously overflowing with creative energy. I think I spent the first week back writing furiously and the second diving wholeheartedly in my pottery. and in that week, I discovered my sgraffito niche of carving the landscapes that had so hugely captivated me into my work.
two months later, I would go on my first solo camping trip in arizona, a week that sparked a breakthrough in confidence and independence. and since then, I’ve pretty much taken advantage of every opportunity I’ve had to get back out to sleeping under the stars.
in a lot of ways, moving west opened my eyes to a whole different way of living, a whole separate set of opportunities and trails to chase. and the more I have leaned into this kind of newfound passion for camping and traveling, the more I have begun to thrive both as an artist and writer, but also generally as a human.
they say finding your purpose in life starts with rediscovering your inner child, and that’s exactly what the last few years in california have felt like. finally returning to the wild, and having the opportunities that I’ve had to immerse myself in nature, has been so huge in that respect. like the little girl who spent summer nights sprinting barefoot through the neighborhood and building bamboo forts in the woods is awake and alive again, looking wide-eyed at everything surrounding her, desperate to experience it all at once.
