Words and Photos by Jada "Flo" Lippincott @whereisjadaa
I consider myself a "Yes" person. Yes, as in whatever crazy ideas my friends whip up, I'm always down to clown. The answer is always yes. I don't care what sport we're doing; I don't care where in the world it might be happening, and I don't care how difficult it might be. I simply don't care about any of those things because I'm just stoked to be invited in the first place. That's why when my good friend Thad asked me if I was interested in joining him for the Great Divide Trail, I didn't even have time to ask, "What even is that?", before I blurted out, "Yes, I'm in!"
The Great Divide Trail spans about 700 miles from Waterton Lakes, which is a continuation of Glacier National Park, right across the Canada/US border, all the way north of Jasper National Park. It's about 700 miles; very rugged and remote, and requires quite a bit of planning. The trail spans through lots of national parks and provincial parks. Because of this, permits are required. When you're not in national or provincial parks, you're on land that still requires "random camping" permits. What I'm getting at is that this is a hike that demands a lot of preparation.
Thad secured the permits back in March, but we didn't even start hiking until the end of July. The time and energy that he spent creating this itinerary is something that I will forever be grateful for. You make your day-to-day schedule for this trek months before you even step foot on trail, knowing the conditions, months before you even know what kind of shape you're going to be in, and months before you know how insane the weather can be.
There are many different hiking styles out there, and the more time you spend backpacking out in the wilderness, the more you learn about yourself and the kind of hiker that you are. Do you enjoy waking up early and crushing as many miles as you can, or do you like sleeping in and taking on the day with a leisurely stroll? Do you like to stop and look at each flower and mushroom along the trail, or do you like to just have your head down and keep moving? Do you like to shelter in the rain, or do you like to put your raingear on to keep crushing through the storm? Do you like to get the miles out of the way as fast as possible to get to camp quickly, or do you like to take your time throughout the day and stroll into camp just as it's getting dark? Do you like to hike and chat with people all day, or are you more of a solo type of mover? Are you a take-charge/decision-maker-of-the-group, or are you more of a go-with-the-rest-of-the-group?
There are so many ways that hikers can be different from one another. Sometimes it's small differences that don't matter, but sometimes the differences are big enough that they can turn into an issue. The phrase "Hike your own hike" is overused on long-distance trails, but sometimes we need it as a reminder. Everyone takes time out of their lives to do these long hikes. You're putting your relationships, work, and for all intents and purposes, your whole entire life on hold. Because of this, I believe that every person should be exactly where they want to be. If you're not enjoying your time on these trails, get the heck off and go be where you want to be!
I had met Thad a few years before, canyoneering down in Utah. Throughout the years, we've snowboarded, climbed, canyoneered, and day-hiked together. He is someone that I trust with my whole entire life in the backcountry, no matter the sport. He is also the reason that I stepped foot on the Great Divide Trail to begin with. You don't know how things are going to work out until you commit to them, and I guess you could say that we both learned some things about ourselves once we got out there and got into the thick of it.
Turns out, it's hard to be exact opposites when going for the same goal. Thad and I discovered that we clash when it comes to long-distance hiking. The way we take on each day was very different. That doesn't make Thad a better hiker than me, and that doesn't make me a better hiker than Thad. We realized that we ultimately wanted different things out of the hike that we were on. By this point, we were almost to the halfway point. Now, it wasn't like Thad and I were yelling and screaming at each other out there on trail. There was none of that. We both just had the feeling that we were not hiking our own hike. We were bending in ways to accommodate each other, but neither of us wanted to continue to do that. It was very important to me not to let this silly hike ruin a friendship, however, we just talked about how we were feeling and what we wanted in the coming miles.
That is when Thad and I decided that we were going to go our separate ways. He would hop off trail to pursue other hiking adventures, and I would continue this trek alone. There were no hard feelings or hurt feelings. In fact, during the next few weeks and all the way up to my finish of the trail, Thad was cheering me on. I was constantly messaging him and thanking him for getting me out there to begin with. If it wasn't for us going our separate ways, I wouldn't have discovered how strong and capable I was. I was scared as hell taking off into the unknown, going through the gnarly remote and rugged ridges of the Canadian Rockies, but after I saw what I could accomplish by myself, boy, was I empowered.
Sometimes good friends make not-so-good hiking partners, and that's okay. Sometimes you have to walk into the unknown alone to see how grateful you are for your friendships. I can still call Thad a good friend, and I think losing that friendship would have been scarier than any glacial river ford, grizzly bear, or rainstorm on a ridge. A good friendship will endure through both the good and bad days, holding space for you to feel confident to hike your own hike, which can unlock potential that maybe you don't always see in yourself.
The year is 2022, and I had just met a boy halfway through the Arizona Trail. We hit it off, finished the trail together, and started planning for our next adventure. The next couple of months, we planned to separate; I went back to Montana to work for a bit, and he went to Europe to explore. I got a text from this boy that read, "How about we do the Jordan Trail in September."
He's into routes or trails where there isn't much information, and I'm someone who doesn't say no, because I'm down for anything. A few months pass, and I'm on a ten-hour flight to Jordan to meet a boy that I haven't seen in a couple of months.
The Jordan Trail is a 400-mile route that traverses the whole country, north to south. There wasn't too much info on the trail out there, and that's one of the things that really got us both into doing it. Before we actually stepped foot on the trail, we spent a few days in the city of Amman. This was my first trip to the Middle East, and I was absolutely blown away by all the history that was right beneath our feet. I remember sitting in my humanities courses in college, bored to tears, thinking, "Okay, when am I ever going to use this in real life?" Well, I was now standing in the exact place where humanity actually began! It was so cool.
We spent four days exploring the new city, the old city, and eating our way through the street vendors. The Jordanians would literally hang out of their vehicles as they were driving and say, "Welcome to Jordan!" I had never been to a place where I felt so welcomed. Next thing we know, it was time to start walking. We took a taxi to the northern terminus, which was near some old ruins. It's almost like everything we were walking past had some sort of history to it. We quickly learned that this was not going to be like any hike we'd ever done.
The trail started out on this paved path. The only water we could drink was from the water bottles that we purchased at the store. I can't remember what exactly the reasoning was as to why we couldn't use our filters, but whatever virus was in the water could not be filtered out. Because of this, we had to make sure that we always purchased water bottles whenever we were walking by gas stations or convenience stores. It was annoying, but manageable. After a few miles, we realized that the paved path was never going to end because that was the trail. The path was always near busy roads, meaning that we didn't get the feeling that we were in nature. Here in the States, if we want to sit down and take a break, because the trails are in the backcountry, away from cars and roads, it's easy to relax. We didn't get that feeling of relaxation, ever. In fact, it was almost like an on-guard feeling.
As a female who was visiting the Middle East, I felt it was my responsibility not to stand out. I made sure to cover myself from head to toe, but in the fall in Jordan, you're looking at 80 degrees Fahrenheit. I was not comfortable at all. Although we had our doubts, we kept pushing. We covered about 25 miles that first day. That was going to be our only full day on trail.
The one and only night that we camped on the Jordan Trail was not a pleasant or relaxing night whatsoever. The first section is spent walking through communities, and because we are two white people, we kind of stick out like sore thumbs. It was fun walking by the schools and kiddos in the daytime as they were always so kind, offering their homemade falafel, but once the sun set, it was like we had to hide from everyone.
We got on top of this hill overlooking the townsite and decided that that was going to be home for the night. Because it's a desert, we were literally the tallest things up there. We didn't want to stand out too much, so we decided against putting our tent up and to just cowboy camp. It didn't take long before we saw multiple pairs of headlights coming right for us. We were on public land, so we knew that being on someone's property wasn't the issue. What did they want? I still don't have an answer to that question.
We both woke up that next morning, turned to each other, and said, "This is not what I want." There were so many differences between the hiking life that we knew in the States and the hiking life we were experiencing in Jordan, and we ultimately could not get over those differences. Because it had taken us so long to get here, we talked about all of our options. We didn't want to leave Jordan before we saw all the amazing sites down south, but because it was still hot up north, it was over 100 degrees down there. It just wasn't feasible to see everything. We toyed with the idea of going to a different country in the Middle East, but we ultimately wanted to spend our fall hiking, and no other country had a long-distance trail besides Israel, and we didn't feel comfortable walking over the border at that time. We knew that we wanted to hike the Grand Enchantment Trail in the desert the next spring, but what if we did it now?
Within 15 minutes of waking up, we had made up our plan. We bought our plane tickets back to the States, and we were going to hike the Grand Enchantment Trail. A little bit of me wanted to cry inside, but a little bit of me was relieved. I came so far to do this thing, and when is the next time I'm going to be in Jordan? Probably never.
I was happy that the days we had spent exploring the city of Amman were as great as they were, and that itself was enough for me not to regret going one bit. After all, how many times in your life do you follow a boy that you don't really know to a country that you really don't know?
It's now 2025, and as I think back to this trip in 2022, I am so grateful to have had that experience. It makes me love our public land that we have right here in our own country more than I ever thought I could.
We came back and hiked the Grand Enchantment Trail in the fall of 2022, and that's the trail that made me fall in love with the desert. I guess my Grandma is right when she says that some things happen for a reason, even if that reason isn't always obvious right off the bat.
As I look back in hindsight on these two trips, I see a lot of things that I could have done differently. Communication is a big part of relationships in life, but I almost think it's more important in relationships in the backcountry. You're out there helping each other survive, ultimately! I have a few bits of advice to help you and yours to try to keep this from happening to you.
First off, express your intentions before you even leave home. Lay out your "Why". Why do you want to go on the hike?
Second, leave your ego at home. When you're out there as a team, act like a team. It doesn't matter how many miles YOU want to do if not everyone is in agreement. You're all out there together–remember that.
Third, check in with each other every single day. When hiking big mile days, those days are l o n g, meaning that things can change and things can change quite fast.
Fourth, practice patience. Take in the lull moments. No matter if you're hiking or taking a "zero day", you can never get those moments back.
Lastly, be honest with your friends when you don't feel like you're getting what you want out of the hike. Don't just go with the flow when you're scared of ruffling feathers.
True friends will listen and understand. Don't let a silly hike ruin a friendship.
