Yoga Hike

My problem has always been that I often feel at home in two places, almost as if I have each foot in different worlds. I love the city but I love camping. I enjoy traveling and being on the move, yet I also appreciate being at home and having a little stability. While it is great to be able to fully appreciate both, I have found that it is often tough to really feel like I am getting enough of each world, as if I am constantly trying to strike a balance between the two. 

That being said, I know that now that I am back living in New York City, I need to actively seek out outlets for a nature fix. Living near the park has been great for that, and I have been trying to run through the winding trails of the oasis that is Prospect Park at every chance I get. I was also thrilled to find a Google Offer to Gear to Go, a hiking and backpacking outfitters store that offers weekend hiking trips out of the city. Their tag-line reads "Helping you journey the road less traveled." Done.

I booked the yoga hike in the Shawangunk Mountains, a ridge that extends up to the Catskills and is about an hour and a half trip by car from the city. I am not as familiar with the hiking opportunities in New York, so this was a good opportunity to make a connection with the great people at Gear to Go and pick their brains about the potential in the area. We lucked out with a gorgeous day, and the trees had just started to show evidence of Fall. Along with a group of 8 others, a yoga instructor, and two guides from Gear to Go, we hiked up the 6-mile loop and had an hour yoga session at the top before sitting down for a backcountry lunch. 

Don't get me wrong, I love the city. I had sincerely missed its energy, mix of cultures, opportunities, and events. However, it was a welcomed change to have the ability to go walking in the woods, take the time to breathe in fresh air, take off my shoes to feel the contours of a rock-face beneath my bare feet, and notice birds. Balance is good for the soul. 

When despair for the world grows in me

and I wake in the night at the least sound

in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,

I go and lie down where the wood drake

rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.

I come into the peace of wild things

who do not tax their lives with forethought

of grief. I come into the presence of still water.

And I feel above me the day-blind stars

waiting with their light. For a time

I rest in the grace of the world, and am free. — Wendell Berry