Self-Reliance

What I carry most from my time in scouting is self-reliance. That adventurous boyhood struck a match. The Marines just poured gasoline on it. 

Everything I learned in Boy Scouts—how to pitch a tent, follow a map, tie knots, make a fire, read the sky—these were more than just skills. They were quiet lessons in trust: not just trusting the gear, but trusting myself. That trust deepened during my time in the Corps. The woods became second nature, and hardship became something to manage, not fear. I know I can handle whatever comes my way out there. 

That’s not bravado—it’s experience. I’ve been cold and wet, I’ve been lost, I’ve run on empty, and I’ve kept going. 

There’s a part of me—always has been—that knows how to act in the woods, how to assess, adapt, and endure. 

That knowledge gives me peace when I think about the Appalachian Trail. 

It’s not that I expect it to be easy. I know it won’t be. 

But somewhere inside me is a deep fortitude, a stubborn strength that kicks in when things get hard. I’ve met that version of myself before. I’m counting on him to show up again when the time comes.