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There are few experiences as awe-inspiring as hiking through the Grand Canyon and ending up at the turquoise waters of Havasu Falls. This August, I had the chance to take on that adventure — and while I came back with some practical and tactical tips on permits, gear, and preparation (message me if you want the details), what stuck with me most were the personal reflections.
The hike wasn’t just a physical challenge; it was a reminder of how goals unfold, how resilience is built, and how nature has a way of teaching lessons we can carry into every part of our lives. Here are seven of my biggest takeaways.
At the beginning of 2025, I set a goal to take on a physical adventure challenge. I thought it would be the 29029 hike, but the timing didn’t work out. Then I looked at joining and expedition to Machu Picchu, but those dates didn’t align either. I finally signed up for a rim-to-rim Grand Canyon hike and began training, only to have it canceled when one of the largest forest fires in the Canyon’s history broke out.
Our group was about to cancel the trip entirely when someone suggested Havasu Falls. At first, it seemed impossible — permits are notoriously difficult to secure, especially at the last minute. But fortune was on our side: we found permits for the exact dates we needed and headed into the Supai Reservation. Over three days, we experienced Havasu Falls, Mooney Falls, and countless stunning landscapes.
Looking back, I never would have guessed that this would be my adventure of the year. But I’m grateful it turned out this way. It reminded me that life rarely delivers goals in the way we imagine — but if we stay open, we often get something even better.
In the weeks before the hike, I watched my group chat fill with updates about everyone’s training hikes. They were meeting in Arizona, in Palo Duro Canyon in Texas, and in Colorado to do some training hikes. Meanwhile, I did almost zero hike-specific preparation. All my training was general-purpose routines (you can read about my training routine here). I’ll admit, I felt nervous — the last thing I wanted was to be a liability to the group.
But once we hit the trail, I found I could keep up just fine. I credit that to something bigger than any short-term training plan: fitness as a lifestyle. Because I stay consistent year-round, I had the strength, stamina, and mindset to take on the challenge.
It was a powerful reminder that the regular training I do for health, appearance, and energy also prepares me for opportunities like this — the ones you can’t always predict, but want to say yes to. I share this to brag, but rather as food for thought about setting clear goals on what you’re training for. For me, it’s health, looking good, and being ready for fun adventures that life throws my way.
One of the most inspiring people in our group was Martha McSally, a decorated military veteran and former congresswoman. She had a lot of memorable sayings, which I started jotting down as “Martha-isms.” One that stuck with me: “You pack your fears.”
The idea is that we tend to overpack in the areas we’re most worried about. For me, that fear was hydration. Hiking in the August desert, I was terrified of running out of water. So I packed 25% more water than recommended, extra electrolytes, and backup options. Not surprisingly, I stayed perfectly hydrated.
But that phrase made me reflect more broadly: where else in life do I “pack my fears”? What safeguards, buffers, or redundancies do I build into my day-to-day just to feel safe? Sometimes those choices protect me, but other times they weigh me down.
Eight miles into the hike, we passed through the Supai Village before the final stretch to Havasu Falls. The village is remote, simple, and largely disconnected from the world many of us live in. Life there is slow, simple, low on technology, and not very health-oriented. .
It struck me how what’s considered “normal” in Supai Village is so different from “normal” in Houston, Texas, where I live — or anywhere else for that matter. It reminded me how powerful environment is. We become like the people and places we surround ourselves with.
I felt grateful for my own circles, where it’s normal to be challenged, to strive, to grow. That inertia pushes me in the direction I want to go.
The contrast in landscapes along the trail amazed me. The first six miles were pure desert — rugged, barren, and dry, just like you see on Grand Canyon postcards. But around mile six, as we approached the creek, everything changed. Vegetation began to flourish, water trickled alongside us, and by the time we reached the falls, lush greenery surrounded turquoise pools.
In one glance, you could take in desert cliffs, flowing water, and vibrant plant life, all within a few hundred yards. And yet, none of it was visible from the trailhead above.
It was a vivid reminder of the hidden magic in nature — and in life. Just because you can’t see it from where you’re standing doesn’t mean it isn’t there, waiting to be discovered.
Our group ranged in age from 43 to 69. Every single person was strong, fit, and fully capable of handling the challenges of the hike. The three oldest hikers in the group, ages 59, 63, and 69, especially inspired me. They proved firsthand that “age is just a number” really is true.
I came away believing even more strongly that I can be just as active in my 70s as I am in my 40s — but only if I keep investing in my health, mind, and body. The limits we often assume with age aren’t inevitable.
Stay strong and active at every age.
When we set out, I didn’t know anyone in the group. By the time we returned, I had a set of new friends I felt deeply connected to. There’s something about being together in the wilderness, away from phones, texts, and distractions, that accelerates connection.
When all you have is conversation, shared struggle, and the beauty of your surroundings, the bonds you build run deep. It felt like connection on steroids.
My hike to Havasu Falls wasn’t the adventure I planned for 2025 — but it turned out to be the one I needed. It taught me that goals unfold in unexpected ways, that preparation shows up when you least expect it, and that nature has a way of shifting perspective in profound ways.
If you’re considering Havasu Falls or another bucket-list hike, my advice is simple: train consistently, stay open to the adventure, and embrace the lessons along the way.
👉 I’d love to hear from you: What’s the most memorable lesson you’ve learned on a trip or hike? Share it with me — I’m always looking for new stories and perspectives to fuel the next adventure.
