William Humnicky: The Journey to What I Truly Missed

William Humnicky shares about a recent backpacking trip.

I stepped off a long-distance bus into Yosemite Valley. I had abandoned my family. On purpose. But I felt, well… great. I love backcountry wilderness but my wife and daughter love daily showers. So, I was there to backpack the 220-mile John Muir Trail, alone, but it’ll take 14 days.

Over the next several days, I lived my dream. Daily, I hiked up a pass. Strangers asked me to take their photo. I told them my story: “I’m doing what I love.” I took selfies. On day 11, I’d climbed up to the top of the most difficult pass yet. I was enjoying the solitude. But then, 30 minutes later, a mom and dad and their two teenage daughters hiked up, ruining my alone time. 

The dad hands me his phone to take their picture. After, the mom asks softly, “Why are you out here all by yourself?” I asked myself that same question, all day, every day. Everywhere I looked was the most beautiful and peaceful wilderness one could imagine. And yet, I was lonely. I felt guilty for wanting to stay. And guilty for wanting to leave. “I… I don’t know.” I choked out. “I want photos with my wife and daughter. But all I have are selfies, alone.” 

In that instant, I stopped loving the solitude of wilderness. I said goodbye and sprinted down the mountain. I had three days of brutal climbing left. I finished them in two. On the final day, I stood atop Mount Whitney — more than 14,000 feet. I avoided other hikers. And having phone reception for the first time in 13 days, I typed a text message, “Love you. Miss you. I’m coming home.”

I turned around, hit the trail, the last ten miles. I made a promise to myself – that I will find things we can do together, take photos with all three of us. For the first time in 13 days, I raced off toward what I truly love – my family. With a Perspective, I’m William Humnicky.

William Humnicky misses impromptu conversations with strangers. He looks forward to hearing your story.