I have been hiking solo for many years. I’ve always had a taste for traveling alone. It is my place to think, reflect, pray, and meditate in solitude. It’s not that I don’t enjoy hiking with family and friends; it’s that solo hiking sustains me. It feeds my soul. When I started hiking as a young man I searched for waterfalls and swimming holes. That evolved to peak bagging or hiking to the summits of mountains.

When I was diagnosed with polycythemia vera (PV), a rare blood cancer, it was a gut punch. To process this, where did I go? Mount Washington. It was January 2021. I had climbed Mount Washington dozens of times – three of those times in Winter. As I started out, I was mad! How the hell did this happen to me! I always took care of myself. I’ve worked out since I was 12, religiously. I was a healthy eater (other than my ice cream and cookie addiction). I was health conscious. I logically understood that cancer could happen to anyone. Chrohn’s disease, which led to colon cancer, took my brother at 44. I understood the thief that cancer can be.

As I took to the trail again and again, my anger gave way to positivity. I wasn’t going to let PV keep me from doing what I loved. That winter I hiked all the Presidentials in New Hampshire in addition to a few other mountains. The Northern Presidentials I climbed alone. The Southern ones, a good friend came. (I wasn’t being reckless; I knew these mountains and had climbed them before.) My wife, Jess, was supportive, and knew this was the way I processed things. I hiked with an old friend who fought breast cancer twice. She gave me some of the best advice for dealing with cancer.“The word ‘cancer’ holds so much power if we let it.” I felt empowered. It’s a “cancer.” It’s one that can be managed but not cured. I started to realize I had some control. This was not going to define me or stop me from living a happy and joyful life.

“Real courage is when you know you're licked before you begin, but you begin anyway and see it through no matter what” – Lee, in “To Kill a Mocking Bird”

I believe optimism and hope are disciplines. I refuse to let go of them.

Months after my diagnosis, and miles and miles of hiking later, I realized I needed to reach beyond myself, and have a positive impact on my circumstances. I had a big hike on my bucket list: the Long Trail in Vermont, a 272-mile hike (with 65,370 feet of elevation gain) from south to north through the entire state of Vermont. I always wanted to hike it. Why not do it with a purpose?I had never attempted anything that would place me on the trail for that long. After some research, I reached out to the MPN Research Foundation who helped set up what I called the “Blood on the Trail” fundraiser. After pushing on through the third rainiest July on record in Vermont, I finished the Long Trail raising $10,000. All the money went to cancer research.

When Kendra Waddington emailed me to ask if I had any interest in hiking the Canadian Rockies this May, I was surprised and thrilled. I never expected my Long Trail adventure to turn into the opportunity to join the Sole 2 Soul team. Flying out to Colorado I was excited to see and hike in the Rockies, for sure, but what I didn’t expect was to bond with a team. Maybe it was the shared experience, the shared fight, the shared empathy and compassion beyond our own pain or maybe it was that they are just good solid people. There were team members who were fighting their own battles with blood cancer, others who lost their husband or their fathers to cancer, there were doctors, medical writers, photographers, videographers and mountain guides all unified in a single mission. Being in the company of those with a common vision and goal elevated my resolve. I will never feel alone when I have phlebotomy or take my injections. I will know that my team members are dealing with the same scenarios whether it’s symptoms or simply explaining to the nurse or phlebotomist what PV is. (My own primary care doctor told me that I am the only patient she’s ever had that has PV.) The privilege of being a member of this team is an honor and humbling. We are living in spite of our condition, our pain and our loss. We are not only taking action in our quest to find a cure for MPNs, hopefully we are inspiring others with MPNs to get out there and live their “best life.” I read “The Book of Joy” recently and in it the Dalai Lama said “There is a saying in Tibetan, ‘Tragedy should be utilized as a source of strength.’ No matter what sort of difficulties, how painful the experience is, if we lose our hope, that’s our real disaster.”

Success is attained step by step much like hiking. While hiking you will slip and fall, you will deal with pain and discomfort. You will be wet and cold, you will descend and ascend but you will also witness bucolic vistas, magnificent sunrises and sunsets, babbling brooks, majestic waterfalls, cooling rivers, industrious wildlife, smells and scents that feed the soul. Hiking is an easy metaphor for life. One that fuels my spirit. Once you ascend to the mountaintop you invariably descend to the col or valley only to eventually ascend another mountain.

In life, we will have successes but “Success is not final; failure is not fatal: It is the courage to continue that counts.” - Winston Churchill.

Those times in the valley, literally and figuratively, that is where we reflect, where we gain our strength to ascend again; to gain perspective and understanding. The trail trains my approach to life. I am marking the time until Sole 2 Soul reunites in Waterton and we tackle the Canadian Rockies together.