On foot
The walks, in the order they happened.
Allison doesn't hike to get away from things. She hikes the way other people finish a long book — slowly, on purpose, and all the way to the last page.
The big one, walked in segments over years rather than in one push. Most of it is behind her now — only a few short stretches left to connect, and the whole thing is closed.
In progress
Yellow arrows and scallop shells all the way west. The walk that the rest of this page is quietly designed after — the waymark you keep seeing is borrowed from trails like this one.
Completed
Not the summit — the trek to the foot of it, through thinning air and the Khumbu valley, to the place climbers stage from. Higher than anything else she's walked.
Completed
Distances and dates are placeholders — tell me the real ones and I'll set them.
(swap in assets/)
Why she keeps going
A long way is just a short way, eight hundred times.
There's a patience in her that the trail rewards. The same patience that taught a six-year-old to count to a hundred, then to read, then to play — applied to a footpath that runs from one end of the country to the other.