A Page from My Journal

May 17th, 2025

Sometimes, solitude in nature can get glorified. As someone who’s spent plenty of time alone out there—from camping a month straight by myself in the middle of nowhere Alaska to several long road trips lasting 75 to 90 days—I’ll be the first to say it can take a toll. I’ve gotten better at handling it as I’ve grown older, but it never fully goes away. Sometimes it still sinks its teeth deep into your heart. And it makes sense. Humans are social creatures. We evolved to live in groups. When you starve yourself of that, things are bound to go awry.

Anyway, I want to share with you a short journal entry from May 17, 2025. It was during my most recent road trip: a month spent wandering around Utah.

I think we all carry loneliness, doubt, and moments of anxiety. Clearly we do. There’s no escaping them. You could say it’s all part of life’s adventure—that the rainy days allow us to appreciate the rainbows and golden hours. But what really matters is how you deal with them.

For me, I’ve learned to write them down verbatim, or to literally walk them out in the woods (I’m actually walking through the woods thinking right now). I get them out of my head and put them somewhere I can choose to look at or be. What I try to never do is react to them. Ever.

Because if you stop what you’re doing—if you lose faith in yourself, your future, or the process you’re walking—then to me that’s the only true way to fail. And that’s one trail I will never head down.

You might miss a sunrise here and there, but as long as you believe another morning will come; that the sun will rise again, you’ll have the chance to redeem yourself. It’s only when you stop believing in that—when you lose trust in the process or in yourself—that failure really takes hold.

Thanks for taking the time to read this little piece of my world. Hope it meets you wherever you are — and reminds you that the sun keeps rising, for us all.

See you out there,
Korey