ΤΟ WALK ALONE

Backpacking by yourself unlocks a powerful wilderness experience. If you're scared to solo, you're on the right track.

- CASEY LYONS

I CAN'T recall a more anxious sunset. Color seeped out of the skylight in the branches above my campsite, and with it, hope for escape. Each advancing second brought the walls of the forest closer, while the trailhead seemed to creep farther away. Soon it would be too dark to move. And there were bears out there.

There is one moment in every day where the light is low enough to fuzz out perception and blend reality with your nightmares. When, if you could just see, you'd know. And if you knew, you'd feel better. Or at least more hitched to reality, protected from your paranoia. I'd eventually come to learn that more than any feeling of heroism, accomplishment, or peace, this moment of terror is what really defines solo hiking-and on my first solo overnight in the woods of western Massachusetts, I was getting my first big dose.

It was early spring of 2007. The Boston ground teethed with crocuses as I dragged depression around my apartment like a filthy tail. Alcohol and television had replaced my emotional range. My roommates were two close friends, but they talked to each other mostly through video games I didn't play. And so there I was, sitting on the couch on my sixth or seventh Busch any night of the week, binging Law & Order while rumbling explosions seeped in from the next room's digital warzone. But along came a few warm days. Tree pollen livened the air. I could feel the sun on my face. I'd gotten away from camping over the last six years, but could tell, somehow, that it was what I needed. I doubt I asked anyone to come camping with me because for the first time, I didn't care if anyone did.