Sometimes the most valuable lessons come from changing course.

Back on June 25th of this summer, I shouldered my pack and set off on what was supposed to be a 500-mile adventure. My husband and I were setting out to thru-hike the Colorado Trail (CT). Although we were experienced backpackers, we had never undertaken a thru-hike of this magnitude; the CT stretches across 6 national forests, 6 wilderness areas, 8 mountain ranges, and crosses multiple river systems with elevations ranging from 5,000 feet to over 13,000 feet. We had never spent more than 6 days at a time in the wilderness and were looking at a time period of 4-6 weeks to complete this hike.

I was both excited and anxious about our ability to pull off this massive trek. I visualized being at the end of the trail, proud of my accomplishment and on my way to getting my first ever (and probably last) tatoo; a little Colorado Trail symbol that I would have on arm where I could see it and be proud and reminded what I achieved.

A little over halfway through this thru-hike, we left the trail. And I’m not sorry about that decision. The 13 straight days we hiked and camped out in the wilderness were amazing and enlightening – and so was the decision to leave. I learned so much this summer.

What the Trail Taught Me

I CAN Do Hard Things

Although I was happy to discover that my body held up during consecutive 18-19 mile days hiking in the mountains, it was still was hard; mentally and physically. My largest physical issue seemed to be my heart/lung’s ability to beat at a normal rate in as I hiked uphill in those the elevations. Although I don’t usually don’t have issues hiking uphill, there were moments on those climbs when my pack felt like a large body was physically pushing me backward and down. The switchbacks seemed endless. But I kept putting one foot in front of the other. I started looking at climbing that next mountain pass, not as whole pass, but as a group of small incremental steps; if I could just make it to that pretty flower up ahead, or (once I got there) to that rock ledge, then I can take a break. I learned that bt breaking up a task that seems unattainable, into small attainable steps, I will get to the top.

The Views Were Worth Every Painful Step

Nothing – absolutely nothing – compares to hiking a ridgeline in the Collegiate Mountain range with a vast view of mountains stretching 360 degrees around you. But what made those moments truly spectacular was knowing I had earned that view with every single step up the mountain.

People Are Happier in Nature

Most of the thru-hikers we encountered, whether they were tackling just the Colorado Trail or the Continental Divide Trail (these trails combine for the majority of the CT), were incredibly happy to be out there and genuinely friendly. They all seemed just so happy and grateful to be out in nature. Maybe it’s the lack of cell service, maybe it’s the escape from society. We didn’t meet as many people as we’d hoped to, but I remember each encounter fondly. People usually want to stop and talk for a few minutes, they aren’t looking at their phones or trying to beat rush hour traffic. There’s something special about the community you find in the wilderness.

Knowing When to Pivot

After 260 miles – over halfway through the trail – we made the decision to leave the trail.

Not because we couldn’t finish. We had gained our “hiker legs,” and surprisingly, I had no specific or significant aches or pains other than a blister on each heel. We had even completed the West Collegiate section, which is a more difficult but incredibly scenic optional route. We were physically capable of finishing.

But we were ready for a break. And one “zero” day (hiker speak for a rest day) before getting back on trail wasn’t going to cut it.

The Big Realization

What I hadn’t fully grasped about thru-hikes – and maybe this was a big “duh” moment for me – was that in order to complete them, the destination becomes everything. You plan for a certain number of days with a calculated amount of food to get you through those days. This rigid schedule prohibits, or seriously limits, the exploration part of being in nature.

We found ourselves hiking past beautiful spots because we had miles to make. We couldn’t linger by that perfect alpine lake or spend an extra hour photographing wildflowers or fishing a stream because we had a schedule to keep.

So after 260 miles at Monarch Pass, we parted ways with the Colorado Trail. But we’re planning to return next summer with a different approach – allowing more time for rest days in the mountain towns we pass through, hanging out time, fishing time for my husband. Maybe next time I’ll bring my professional camera and take time to explore through photography, which is my favorite way to experience a place.

The Most Important Lesson

The biggest lesson I learned? For me, the experience is more important than the destination. I want to spend each day doing things that bring me happiness. Bragging rights or other evidence of accomplishments don’t give me that same joy.

It’s not that I can’t be goal-oriented or that I’ve lost the desire to achieve my goals. But if I’m not enjoying the experience along the way, why do it?

An Unexpected Discovery

Here’s something else that surprised me: while I was out on the trail, I began daydreaming about my photography business. Specifically, about my portrait and branding work. I found myself missing the work and missing the people I connect with when I’m behind the camera.

I guess this says something about me and the career I’ve chosen. The experience brings me joy. When I connect with a client and we work together creatively to create images that aren’t just pretty pictures but serve a real purpose – helping that person confidently put their personal brand out into the world – it fills me up.

How This Relates to Being an Entrepreneur or a Business Owner

If you’ve been following my work, you know I specialize in working with businesses and entrepreneurs who are ready to take their businesses to the next professional level. Most people (and yes, women in particular) know they need professional photography but have hesitated because they haven’t found a photographer who makes them feel comfortable.

That trail experience reminded me why I love what I do. Just like I learned I could tackle those steep mountain climbs even when my pack felt impossibly heavy, or that mountain pass seems so difficult, we’ve already proven we can do hard things. We’ve built a business. We’ve overcome challenges. We’ve persevered when others might have quit.

And just like I discovered that the rigid goal of finishing the trail was less important than enjoying the journey, I want my clients’ experience with me to be about more than just getting photos for your website. I want you to enjoy the process of seeing yourself as the confident, accomplished businesswoman you are. I want to have fun during the sessions, admit when a pose may seem cheesy and laugh about it. But at the end, I want us both to be excited with the result.

The trail also taught me that community matters – those friendly encounters with fellow hikers made the difficult days bearable. That’s exactly what I aim to create in our photo sessions: a supportive, encouraging environment where you feel seen and celebrated.

Most importantly, just as I realized the experience mattered more than the bragging rights of finishing, I believe your photo session should be about the experience of stepping confidently into your role as the face of your business. The images are beautiful, yes, but the real transformation happens when you see yourself the way I see you – as someone who has already climbed mountains and earned every bit of success you’ve achieved.

Ready to plan your own journey toward confident, professional images? Let’s create an experience that’s as rewarding as the destination.

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P.S. That Colorado Trail tattoo I was planning? It’s going to have to wait until next summer when I hopefully complete the trail – this time, with plenty of time built in for the moments that make the journey special.