Sometimes, making mistakes brings me things that I didn’t expect. In that moment, I feel disappointed, frustrated, and often, I rush to think it’s the end of the world. It all eventually works out, and I have the benefit of learning from my errors.

In Shrewsbury, I had a chance to reconnect with Steve, my friend from NatureBridge, and met his family. I took a day and a half off, fixing gear, resting, and eating delicious food he and his wife cooked. I felt rested and prepared to hike the last 500 miles. There was a thunderstorm at midnight on the second day, and I was cozy and dry under the roof, feeling grateful for Steve’s family. I was protected from the rain and lightning storm in their lovely home.

After the goodbye, I began hiking in the wet forest, smelling the smoke from the fire from Canada all day long. The forecast said it would be sunny, but it was foggy with a strange orange glow in the sky. I was feeling a little bit off and unsynced for some reason. Within the first 5 miles, I broke the other hiking pole. Bummer.

I quickly picked up a perfect stick and decided that I would just keep the wood hiking pole for the rest of the way. Lots of my gear is also going for the triple crown of full circle. Wear and tear on my gear is inevitable. I spend a lot of my time fixing and taking care of my worn-out equipment when I am not hiking. Luckily, the more I hike, the stronger my body becomes, and I have no issues with my body so far.

With a new wood hiking pole, I continued my hike, and by mid-afternoon, I made it to the junction of major trails: the Appalachian National Scenic Trail, the Long Trail, and the North Country National Scenic Trail. There were two other AT thru-hikers taking a break at the junction. We chatted a little bit, and I kept going.

It took me an hour, almost 2 miles, to realize that I had taken a wrong turn at the junction. I was hiking the Long Trail instead of the AT for a while since there was a white blaze on the tree, and even though my instinct said, “I should be able to see the road soon. I should be able to see the pond soon.” I kept going, trusting white blaze. Usually, if I see something that is not on the map, I stop and look at the map again to make sure I’m on the right path. Despite my instinct, I followed the white blaze because it meant the AT.

I was mad, embarrassed, disappointed, and frustrated. First, I thought my GPS was wrong, but it wasn’t. Another AT hiker came, and he knew he had taken a wrong turn too. He said he wasn’t turning around. “Unfortunately, we came too far. I’m going to keep going and hit the road. At least I can run on the road to catch AT somewhere,” said he. I wanted to hike the AT and didn’t want to miss any part of it. I turned around with a deep sigh and started hiking back. Soon, I saw the two hikers I met at the trail junction earlier. They didn’t even know they had taken the wrong turn until I talked to them. It wasn’t just me.

An hour later, I was back at the trail junction and looked at the sign carefully. The AT sign wasn’t the best one and was confusing. I also had a choice to stay with my intuition and look at the map, especially when I passed the shelter, because I didn’t remember seeing it on the map. I thought I wasted two hours of my time hiking a different trail, and it was what it was. I told myself, “trust the gut, study the map, and check often.”

What I didn’t expect was that I ended up camping at the edge of Kent Pond. I fell asleep listening to the songs of loons, woke up to their songs, and watched a beautiful sunrise above the pond. If I didn’t take the wrong turn, I wouldn’t have heard the loon and seen the sunrise.

The next day, I was still caught in a funk until I came to Stony Brook. I looked at the beautiful water flowing into many pools. I was not going to take a dip, but I realized I needed to do it. I soaked head to toe in the cold water and let the water flow over me. When I got out, I was a different person, as if I shed my exoskeleton of regret. I said to myself, “Today is a new day, so live it.”

I knew there was no going back. I need to move forward regardless of what I did or what happened. I am humbled by the power of water. I need to remember to get in the water when I am struggling to let go of things that no longer serve me.

For the rest of the day and all the way to Hanover, New Hampshire, I did well, focusing, breathing, and placing my foot carefully. I arrived at the time that I planned. The mistake didn’t delay me. As I approached the Connecticut River, a car stopped for me so I could cross the road. She rolled down the window and said, “Congratulations!”

Suddenly, it hit me- I made it to the second-to-last state: New Hampshire. On their license plate, it said, “Live free or die.” I was stunned when I saw it. It’s a phrase Harriet Tubman said when she jumped off the bridge to avoid being caught by her owner in the movie Harriet.

Live free or die can mean so many things. For today, at the moment, it means that the more I learned to accept failure and live with humility, the freer I would feel. There is no reason to feel shame or embarrassed, no matter how much time I spend outdoors and practicing navigation. It’ll all lead me to be better. Remember, there is always the next time.