I was halfway down a trail above the Roaring Fork Valley, lungs burning, legs moving on autopilot, when everything just… went quiet.
I wasn’t thinking about anything I needed to do. Not the list, not what was next, not the constant chase. I was just locked in on Sopris, The Chain by Fleetwood Mac playing through my headphones, and it hit.
Not in some dramatic, life-altering way. Just a feeling. The kind that’s hard to explain unless you’ve actually felt it. Goosebumps, chills, everything slows down and you’re just there. No forcing thoughts, no trying to figure anything out, just letting everything come and go. It felt like clarity. Like space. Honestly, it felt like the kind of feeling people spend their whole lives chasing.
And I remember thinking, this is it. This is why you go outside.
I’ve only found that feeling a handful of times. You don’t just walk outside and get it. It’s earned. Usually miles out, usually alone, usually after you’ve been out there long enough for everything else to quiet down.
When I was in Peru hiking the Inca Trail, I learned about Pachamama. Ever since then, every time I head into the mountains, I say something quick. Nothing formal, nothing over the top, just a small acknowledgment. A “hey, keep me safe out there.” I don’t really think too hard about it. It’s just something I do.
But that feeling, that moment, most people never get it. Not because they don’t care, they just haven’t experienced it.
And that’s the thing. People protect what they experience. Not what they’re told, not what they read, not what they scroll past. What they actually feel.
That idea has been sitting with me for a while now. It’s a big part of why I started Outpst. Not just to make product, but to give people a reason to get outside. To feel something real. Even if it’s just for an hour. Even if it’s close to home. Just stepping away from the noise for a bit.
Because this place we’re on is unreal. There’s so much to it, so many ways to experience it, and most of it is sitting right there, waiting for people to actually go see it.
On our end, we’re trying to do things the right way. Using recycled fleece, holding onto scrap fabric instead of tossing it, repurposing what we can, fixing gear instead of replacing it. We’re not perfect, just figuring it out as we go and trying to build something that makes sense.
But none of that really matters if people aren’t out there in the first place.
So yeah, Earth Day or not, just go outside. Go find your version of that feeling. No pressure, no expectations. Just go. You’ll know it when it hits.