No one tells you the return hike is the real test. Out to Lake Solitude, the world felt cinematic—mountains sharp, air thin, every step a promise. But turning back, legs shaking, all I could think about was how far I still had to go. The crowds thinned. My water ran low. I kept glancing over my shoulder, half-hoping for company, half-wishing I could just disappear into the trees. By the time I reached the trailhead, I was sunburned, silent, and weirdly proud. Not because I’d seen something beautiful, but because I’d made it back when I wanted to quit. Sometimes the hardest part of travel is coming down, not going up. #Travel #TrailTruths #SoloHiking