By Barbara Chauvet

The outdoors are a part of who I am. I used to define myself through my backcountry adventures. I would spend days hiking or planning for future expeditions in the wilderness. I would challenge myself all the time; I would babble about my hikes for hours. It was something I was proud of. When I moved to BC, the beauty of the province and the infinity of trails and outdoor activities astonished me. I was hiking more than working, and I met all my friends via outdoor adventures. I had found a perfect life balance and was the happiest I had ever been.

While far from being an athlete, I was fearless and fit enough so my body would take me anywhere I wanted. And I took it for granted.

Winter Adventure in Garibaldi Provincial Park. Photo by Barbara Chauvet

In March 2020, I had a ski accident that resulted in a concussion. After a few weeks of rest, I resumed my outdoor activities: hiking, kayaking, snowshoeing, and skiing. But it felt weird like I wasn't entirely myself. I was dizzy and unbalanced, which is a bit inconvenient when you walk on ridges. I was exhausted every time I would go on an adventure. I was terrible at planning expeditions because I couldn't focus on anything for more than 20 minutes. Months later, the symptoms increased.

The fog in my brain and the pain in my body were taking advantage. But I was fighting hard. I didn't understand what I was going through and kept pushing. I pretended I was strong enough to continue, but I was terrified and furious because I couldn't rely on my own body.

It got worse, and I accumulated minor injuries. In a way, my body was telling me, "that's enough," so I grudgingly took a step back from my backcountry adventures. It was a huge setback; it reminded me of years of frustration when I felt stuck in the city with no nature around. It felt like a loss of my identity. All my life, my projects were my next big adventure, so what could I do now? I didn't know where I was heading to, and I felt like a burden. The injury had almost won over me.

Golden Ears Provincial Park on a foggy day. Photo by Barbara Chauvet

I couldn't hike anymore, but I could still go into nature. I just had to look at it differently. It started with a look at my backyard. What if my next biggest adventure wasn't climbing a mountain but getting outside, despite the pain? I started with a 10-minute walk by the river, behind the house. It was boring at the beginning. Getting out of the comfy bed to watch a few rocks and plants I saw every day for the past year wasn't a fascinating perspective. However, I quickly started to notice the beauty of my backyard forest. It became my safe space, my healing cocoon. As a result of my brain injury, I couldn't handle noise like music, my roommates talking, cars in the street. It was like someone pushed the volume button to the maximum. In the forest, though, my ears were relieved. The bird's songs, the relaxing river sound, the crack of the trees; those noises transformed into music. And it was the most beautiful music I had ever heard.

I forced myself to walk in the forest for 30 minutes, every single day, even under pouring rain, even when headaches were so intense I couldn't think properly. Slowly, the benefits from the walk replaced the pain of moving my body. This daily 30-minute walk in the forest was the reason to get out of bed, not to give up. I would not let that accident keep me away from my dose of nature.

The daily connection with the forest is a massive part of my healing process. Being in nature is the main reason I have to get better, as well as the cure. I accepted that I can't reach all the summits I want for now. I adopted a slower pace, the pace of the forest. I allow myself time to heal, and I also enjoy the outdoors through nature photography and by writing about my adventures. As I'm getting better every day, I believe I'm heading somewhere.

Snowshoe Hike to Elfin Lakes (Garibaldi Provincial Park). Photo by Barbara Chauvet

I thought outdoors adventures were all about extreme challenges that would push my physical limits, but this life experience taught me it could be different for each of us. For me, it's about being connected. With nature, but also with myself. I understood that nature is not what defines me because I'm an outdoorsy person; it's a part of me, as a human. It's home. And it's so good to feel at home.

There are so many ways to connect with nature, even if we can't travel the world or practice extreme sports. You might dream about highly remote places, but start by looking at your backyard: I'm sure there are some wonders you don't know about. Nature is not only for the physically strongest, the reckless, the active people. Let's not forget about people with disabilities, the sick, the injured, the unhealthy people. We might be the ones who need it most.

Lynn Valley – My backyard forest. Photo by Barbara Chauvet

About the author

Barbara Chauvet is a blogger based in Southwest British Columbia. Living in her campervan, she spends her time adventuring in the province. After many years working in Paris, she decided to leave a well-paid job in the city for a life of outdoor adventures. She enjoys solo hiking and backpacking, mountaineering, and outdoor photography. Barbara hopes to inspire others, and especially women, to get outside and follow their wildest dreams, by writing her adventures on the blog The Trail of B, and on Instagram @thetrailofb.