This year’s design for the Hardrock 100’s 30th anniversary began as something entirely different. It featured the tallest peak and the darkest night sky—intended to explore the concept of individual shadow work. The piece was 95% complete when I felt an overwhelming need to scrap it altogether. For such a monumental anniversary, the original message no longer felt aligned.

During significant milestones, we often reflect on the community that helps us endure. With time comes wisdom—a gift to be shared with the next generation.

As I wrestled with the message I wanted to convey, one word kept resurfacing in my life: community.
“A tree does not grow alone. It is a community.”
– Oren Lyons, Faithkeeper of the Turtle Clan of the Onondaga Nation

There is no better illustration of this truth than the aspens near the Chapman Aid Station. In the 1970s, scientists began to understand the deep interdependence of trees. By 2008, it was confirmed that the largest living organism on Earth is, in fact, a grove of interconnected aspens.

I quoted Oren Lyons above—I could listen to him for days. In his animistic worldview, he speaks often about the origins of the U.S. and the destruction of forests/clear cutting. His quote, though often tied to reforestation efforts, touches on something deeper: specific plants and medicines grow around certain trees, supporting the wildlife that in turn taught humans how to feed and heal themselves. Don’t we, too, need the same water and sunlight to survive?

Like the course map, it’s all a cycle. When runners stand tall—as if alone—like aspens in a grove, we also see the crowd on the sidelines. We see the cycle of wisdom come alive. The teachers are there—Dale, Blake, Kirk, Betsy, Darcy, and so many more. We see the wide eyes of the next generation.

It’s my favorite moment. Let’s continue to be medicine for one another. None of us stands alone.

Porfidia of @modernancientdesign in partnership with true allies @Altrarunning and @Tailwindnutrition bring forth the 30th anniversary limited edition hat .

Click here to see Porfidia’s old growth (ancestral) wood creations.

I told my parents they needed to stock up on some groceries as the news of more and more closures began.  They are two of the most resilient, skilled and, frankly, badass people I know.  Their generation possessed many trades that my generation took for granted (and we are in danger of losing).  

As we began to stock up on a few necessities, a wave of disappointment came across my body.  How is it I got to the point of relying on so many packaged products?  Sometimes we are forced to take a hard look at ourselves.

I told my sister-in-law that I wished I was with her and my brother in Leadville.  Growing up in the way I did, this sort of global shut down would not have phased me in the least up there.  My father and brothers hunted, my mom and grandma processed the kill and knew how to hunt themselves.  To be honest, I think my mom was a more skilled hunter than some of the men in my family.  That little 5’1” wonder was incredibly strong!  Uncles and aunts were a part of many of these processes and I long for the communal living.

I remember growing up with a stove that required the wood we harvested as a family.  Each day after school it was my job to start a fire to keep the house warm.  I remember having canned fruits and vegetables around from my grandma (I don’t remember eating them because I don’t think I ate anything other than bean burritos with extra cheese for several years of my life).  As far as water goes, it was all around in the form of snow if not  out of the faucet.

Here I am realizing I don’t touch the source of my food.  I continue to say it is a goal but make little progress.  The mantra continues to ring in my head “return to source.”

My dad sharing his knowledge.