A Hike that Ended Early

By Kevin Barwick

My first experience with Illuman occurred in 2015 when I did the Men’s Rites of Passage in Northern California.  The inner work I did at the MROP and the years since then have helped me become more steady, more connected and clearer about who I am.   I’ll now tell you about how my inner work helped me deal with something unexpected and frustrating that happened to me recently.

Earlier this year I decided to hike a 100-mile segment of the Appalachian Trail.  Beginning nine months before my hike, I trained extensively, or at least I thought I did. As I trained, my legs got stronger and my stamina increased. I added backpack weight and ventured steep inclines. I was beginning to acclimate to a new way of feeling and thinking.

The first day of the hike was a beautiful, clear day. I had a backpack loaded with sleeping bag, supplies, maps, phone charger, and things I thought would sustain me through my 100 miles. My wife dropped me off at my starting point, we kissed goodbye, and I set off on the trail.

I established my pace, relying on what I read and how I had prepared. I enjoyed the beauty around me and the birdsong.  I felt God’s presence.  I was surrounded by rocks, and I paid attention to their shapes and their shear volume.  Walking in that rough terrain led me to think of my inner journey, the choices I’ve made, my missteps, the things I’ve done to hurt the people I love, especially my wife.

 As the hours passed, I grew tired and began to feel frustrated knowing I still had five miles to my first campsite. The trail was mainly uphill, and I felt aches in new places.  As I climbed higher, I became colder. I also began to get lonely. I wished I had some Illuman brothers out there with me.

My determination pushed me to keep going even though my joints were complaining, particularly my hip.  Meanwhile, a couple blasted by me, trying to reach their goal of 27 miles that day.  The day before, they done “only” 20 miles.

Around  5:00, the sun was going down fast, I was still two or three miles from the campground, and I began to get nervous.  I needed warmth, Advil for my aching hip, and food.  But I was not going to make it to my destination before dark, so I pitched my tent along the trail.

I tried to light my camping stove but the wind was too strong, and the burner kept going out. Soon I ran out of matches. I had brought a fire starter, but it ran out of fuel after several attempts.

A cold front descended on the mountain that evening and the temperature dropped below 32 degrees.  I climbed into my sleeping bag, which was rated for much warmer weather.  Once inside, I ate a Cliff bar, my only dinner that night.  My memories of getting on the trail earlier that day and sensing God all around me soon turned into worries about survival. The pain in my hip was piercing, and I began to shiver from the cold.  It was too cold to sleep. 

There was no phone service there in the mountains.  But around 11:30 I got out my cellphone and noticed the icon of a satellite coming across the screen.  Using the emergency satellite phone, I called my wife to discuss my dilemma with her.  Early the next morning I spoke with her again and asked her to come and get me.  I knew I wasn’t ready for the next leg of my hike.

Part of me said I was giving up. Another part of me said deciding not to continue was necessary for my physical and emotional health.  This was important for both me and my family.

Reflecting on my shortened Appalachian Trail hike,  I am reminded that my life is a journey, and one that is worth the struggle. Often, I am under-prepared, just as I was that cold night in the mountains.  Even when my intention is good, I often don’t pay adequate attention to others, to the world around me, and to what’s happening inside me. 

I came back from the trip with renewed commitment to being attentive to my purpose, to be reminded of what’s truly important, and to love others with genuine unselfish love, and to live into a constant stream of Divine presence.

I still have a long way to go. Those rocks along my path reminded me of the obstacles on my life journey.  My Illuman connections help me stop and listen.  Councils, one-on-conversations that strengthen relationships, and participating in the MROP, EROP, AWAKEN and other events all help me stay alert and purposeful.

June 2026

Kevin Barwick lives in Lanham, Maryland