Public Lands Have Helped Sustain this Tight Circle of Friends
Lisa Zoeller enjoys spending time exploring Colorado every chance she gets.
Thirty years ago this summer, a group of women came together for what would grow and flourish into a tightly-knit circle of support and friendship. The occasion was my upcoming wedding. Rather than a typical bachelorette party of bar-hopping through Denver, we decided it would be fun to go camping in the Arapaho and Roosevelt National Forests outside of Winter Park, Colorado. Some of us were experienced hikers and backpackers. Some of were complete novices. But we were all game for an outdoor adventure — sleeping under the stars, swapping stories around the campfire, and drinking a lot of wine. Of course, none of us had planned on pouring rain, but after turning black garbage bags into raincoats, the festivities continued unabated.
We talked politics, we talked about our budding careers, we danced and sang loudly and off-key to the entire soundtrack from “The Big Chill”…. and we laughed. A lot. By the end of weekend, we realized that something magical happened when we were away from all of the distractions of the city and our normal lives. And we made a vow to continue these weekend getaways to the mountains.
Over the years, the size of the group has grown to 16 women and — until the pandemic — some combination of us has managed to get away every year for a summer and winter trip. The only rule? No spouses or kids are allowed to join us. These are sacred weekends where we don’t have to worry about anyone but ourselves and where we can celebrate the power of female friendships. Although we’ve mostly upgraded from camping to renting large mountain houses, one thing hasn’t changed: we always take a hike, cross-country ski, or snowshoe on public lands. These lengthy sojourns are the highlight of the weekend and often become fodder for stories that we repeat again and again. Like the time we all got lost hiking in the Maroon Bells Wilderness and we calmed our nerves by joking about which celebrity would play each of us in the movie that was certain to be made about our harrowing adventure. Or the time one woman got separated from the group and had to hitchhike back to our campsite. Or when one woman twisted her ankle during a snowshoe and had to be carried out on a snowmobile.
Mostly these hikes and snowshoes are about connecting deeply with each other. It’s where we talk about the joys and challenges that we are facing. Over these thirty years, some of us have gotten married, divorced, lost parents, changed jobs, faced illness, had children — and even one grandchild.
Somehow the conversations that take place as we scramble across rocks, ascend mountains, or leisurely stroll through forests helps put everything into perspective. We grow and learn from each other, we laugh and cry together. And we always, always support each other. I think there is something about the majesty of nature that helps us reflect on who we are and reminds us that life — even when it’s difficult — is beautiful.
I’m stating the obvious when I say this pandemic year has been difficult. We actually had our last indoor get-away weekend near the Pike National Forest in mid-March 2020, just before the world shut down. On our hike that weekend, much of our talk was consumed with the then-little-known virus called COVID-19. When we said our goodbyes and returned to Denver, we had no idea that it would be over a year before we could all gather together indoors. But the great outdoors came to our rescue yet again in late September 2020 when we embarked on a chilly but wonderful camping adventure near the site of our very first camp out.
Now that we’re all fully vaccinated, we are eagerly planning a summer getaway to celebrate 30 years of coming together in friendship and in awe of the healing beauty that Colorado so generously bestows upon us. We don’t yet have a location pinned down, but I know for sure that one of the highlights will be a long, wonderful hike through a national forest — giggling and all talking at once — as we reaffirm our deep and profound connections to each other.
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So many of our country’s parks and public lands written about in these love notes would not exist but for the Land and Water Conservation Fund (LWCF), including the Manistee National Forest. This important conservation program was permanently funded when Congress passed the Great American Outdoors Act last year. You can learn more about the Land and Water Conservation Fund here.
Would you like to write about public lands that you cherish? Please email Mary Jo Brooks at brooksm@nwf.org for guidelines. You’ll get this cool sticker as a thank you.
