I cannot help but feel overwhelmed as I sit down to write this letter about the good things that I have received from hiking. Seven years ago, I set out on my first ever hiking adventure with a thru-hike attempt of the Pacific Crest Trail. Clueless to all that is nature, I set out on this journey as a way to heal myself from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
So many unexpected good things have come to me since then, therefore making it difficult to decide where to begin – 
from becoming the first Black man to wear the “triple crown” for completing three of the most challenging U.S. trails to being honored with the 2022 George Mallory Award for outdoor explorers and everything in between.I’m here to share my story with an open letter to the Outdoors in hopes to inspire others to get outside and begin their healing journey this Mental Health Awareness Month.
Dear Outdoors…
You have provided me with the privilege of seeing some of the most beautiful views this country has to offer. Scanning the horizon 14,000 feet atop Mount Whitney, seeing the Superblooms in the deserts of California, and even reaching an Alpine lake only accessible by foot are all beauties there are no words to describe. Your abundant sceneries give me a sense of stillness, reflection and calmness.
While taking a lunch break on the shores of a lake in Colorado, I can recall witnessing a full grown moose emerging from the mist and approaching the lake near me. It slowly drank until it had its fill, then turned and looked into my soul before disappearing back into the mist of which it came. It was one of the many majestic moments I have experienced because of hiking that I only wish others could have reveled in.
Outdoors, you have restored my faith in the generosity of humanity. The good things I speak of don’t stop with places or experiences, they extend themselves to people as well. While hiking on the Ozark Highlands Trail, my hiking Partner Mummbles and I came into a small town in Arkansas after a few wet and cold miserable days. With zero hotels or hostels near the area, we lucked out by finding an AirBNB managed by an older woman on the edge of her farm and took refuge from approaching storms over the next two days. Our host notified us that there were no stores nearby and wondered what we would do for food during our stay. We told her that we spotted what was known as the Burger Shack a few miles back and we would just walk there and get what we could. Our kind host was gracious enough to show up around dinner time with spaghetti, breadsticks and even a homemade pie. Over the next two days, she would show up at breakfast, lunch and dinner with a hot, home cooked meal she prepared for us out of the kindness of her heart.
The woman drove us back to the trailhead on the last day of our stay after we had shared our stories of you, Outdoors, and spoke about all the good things that happen when you help others. This encounter with a kind soul is nowhere near an isolated situation. Rather, it’s been a common occurrence throughout all of my hike experiences. Not one of the many of the trails I have completed would have been possible without the support, kindness and encouragement of complete and total strangers that I now call family. From those who have hosted me in their homes and taken care of my every need while attempting longer hikes, to my fellow hikers that have become lifelong friends and meeting the one in particular who captured my heart. You introduced me to each and every one of them, Outdoors.
Prior to hiking, as many do, I struggled deeply with my mental health. PTSD and all of its respective symptoms put me in a state of surviving versus living for 13 years. Thirteen, dark years – full of intentional isolation, frustration, anger, and an immense feeling of helplessness. 
Trying traditional forms of treatment including individual therapy, group therapy, biofeedback therapy and a slew of various medications for more than a decade did little, if anything, to disperse the dark cloud that hung over my life.
However, Outdoors, since that first trip in 2016, I have regained my confidence, sense of purpose and my ability to be social. I have been asked many times why I think hiking ended up being the activity that finally allowed me to find joy.
My reason: you are an escape, Outdoors. Being able to escape the distractions that come from our daily lives is the medicine that I have always needed but never knew until I met you, Outdoors. Away from the constant flickering of screens, phone calls, text messages and all of the negativity that exists in our societal norms, I finally had the ability to work on myself. I like to think of my hikes now as an intense therapy session in progress between me and Doctor Nature.
Undoubtedly, the greatest thing I have gained are the tools that I now use to manage my mental health on a daily basis. The Outdoors have special tools that have brought light to a life that was filled with darkness.
So, Outdoors, thank you. Thank you for teaching me how to see with my own eyes. Thank you for showing me animals, plants, sunrises, sunsets, every type of weather imaginable and even the pesky little bugs that remind me I am human. Thank you for introducing me to strangers who have become family. Thank you for being an escape. And, thank you for all that you will do for those too struggling with their mental health who have yet to be introduced to you.