Our Stories

Wild in the North Country – Part One

By Michele Oberholtzer

I was a terrible believer in things, but I was also a terrible nonbeliever in things, I was as searching as I was skeptical.

– Cheryl Strayed

The book Wild, by Cheryl Strayed relays her moving personal journey through the lens of a 3-month solo expedition across the Pacific Crest Trail. It was this book, which I read first as a married woman, and later as a divorcee that inspired me to embark on a long-distance solo hike of my own. It was this book, which I read with awe and appreciation, pen in hand while I underlined the many lines that so perfectly enunciated my confused feelings. It was Strayed, an outdoor enthusiast but backpacking novice, who convinced me that I was capable of doing the something grand for which I had no personal precedent. I related so much to her pain that it seemed reasonable that her method of healing might work for me too. I had tried everything to turn myself into a stronger, better person with unsatisfying results. The possibility of finding this cure in the unconventional therapy of intense self-reflection and prolonged self-reliance was so appealing as to become necessary.

Wild is not my favorite book but it is, without question, the book that has had the greatest influence on my life. It has marked me in ways that are powerful and irreversible and humbling. If I had not read that book, I might never have had the courage to go through with my divorce, might never have left everything to walk across Michigan, might never have started a new life for myself in Detroit and might never have experienced all the infinite possibilities that will come from there.

With the pack on my back and the powerful lessons of this book in my mind, I set out on a 700-mile journey along the North Country Trail in Michigan. My hike was an experiment in spiritual alchemy; an attempt to convert existential pain into something tangible, and then, hopefully, into healing.

On Starting

Day 1, Mile 15. Somewhere outside Traverse City

Starting sucks. I’m tired because I’m not in shape for this kind of work but also because, even though I’ve hiked 15 miles already today, it’s nothing in the grand scheme of things. I’ve accomplished such a miniscule fraction of what I’m trying to do that I feel like I don’t deserve to be tired.

The entire trail for this first day was a flat paved pathway, literally the easiest possible route. I felt silly with all my back-country gear in the company of people in roller blades or after-lunch bike riders with matching tourist t-shirts and hats. One of them asked me what I was training for and I told him “a walk across Michigan” without bothering to mention that the training and the actual event were one and the same.

I have piled so much meaning and so many expectations on what this trip will be, they roll around my head as I walk. The simplest explanation I can find for why I need to do this trip is that I have never done anything on my own before. I have so many fond memories from my past but I don’t know how to feel good about them now- they are things that we did and that “we” no longer exists. If I can do this alone, then I’ll have something to be proud of no matter what happens later or who I end up with.

My sister used to tell me that, whenever I had something I was afraid to say, I should just blurt out “I have to tell you something.” Then there would be no backing out. Even if I didn’t yet know how to say it, she told me, I’d find a way from there. I’ve done that for this trip. I quit my job instead of taking a promotion. I moved out of my apartment and put my belongings in storage. I spent thousands of dollars in gear. And, most important, I told everyone what I was doing. I created a framework for the success of this trip before I took a single step. Now, there can be no backing out.  I don’t know how I’ll do it but I’ll find a way.

As it turns out, you can doubt yourself every step of the way, but if you keep taking those steps, you’ll arrive someplace. I made it to my destination for the night, it feels wonderful to set up camp. I don’t have any of the conventional distractions of “normal life” but I’m busy with the little tasks of making camp and tired enough to relax in a way I don’t often allow.

Tonight, I broke in my stove, my sleeping bag, my tent (currently hanging between two trees in hammock-mode!) and this journal. The joy of doing is strong in me. With my bag on my back, I feel strong and purposeful.

I’ve thought of a lot of people and what I want to say to them. To Christina, how she inspired me to keep the promises I make to myself. To my mom, how I want her to live as she wants her daughters to. To myself, how I don’t know how this will end but I’m so proud to be out here trying. And to Cheryl Strayed, for inspiring the hell out of me.

Michele Oberholtzer backpacked alone across Northern Michigan from Leelenau to Keweenaw, traveling on foot for over 700 miles. Most of her hike took place on the North Country Trail, which has over 1000 miles in Michigan. Stay tuned from now until New Years Day as we share her story.