By the middle of June, Virginia’s humidity levels typically reach legendary proportions. This year was no different: sweat doesn’t evaporate, plants hang limply, and dishes washed by hand take days to try.

A slight exaggeration? Perhaps.

But it was during this mid-June slump in which I envisioned the hot, moist summer stretching out lazily before me. Going outside, even before 6 am, left me drenched and irritable. To further my general tetchiness, I had finally decided to pull the plug on my international trip that I had planned. Sure, I had seen it coming through the lens of increasing covid numbers, but it was still a sad day when I officially canceled my flight.

I then made a split decision to take a road trip out west for three weeks – a “rebound journey”, if you will. I ached for mountains, lakes, cooler temps, and drier weather that wouldn’t leave me consistently feeling like a damp towel. In true Steph-fashion, I pulled everything together last minute, diligently organizing my itinerary while leaving lots of room for spontaneity.

My destination: The Sierra Nevada mountains. This mountain range primarily lies in on the eastern side of California and runs 400 miles north-south. The Sierras boast the largest tree by volume (General Sherman), the largest alpine lake (Tahoe), and the tallest peak in the lower 48 (Mt. Whitney). It was a place where I could easily spend days on end socially distancing myself from fellow humans while being highly entertained by the natural beauty that hallmarks this mountain range.

And so I escaped to the Sierras.

I spent an incredible three weeks camping, hiking, backpacking, horseback riding, rock climbing, swimming, and enjoying my solitude. Now I am back on the East Coast, blessing the inventor of central A/C, eager to blog about the details of my mountain vacation that has left me feeling both peaceful and energized at the same time.

My heart, however, is still in the mountains. 🙂