By Jillian Albrecht

Co-written by Jen Rinaldi

I have always been a person who listened to my heart, and I am in tune with my gut feelings, never banishing those reactions. That’s why when I began to feel like something was missing in my life, (It had been a difficult 3 years) after battling my addiction to alcohol, graduating, and going for my Ph.D., I felt as though I needed to let loose and go feral. I was beginning to feel trapped, comparing my success to the standard of others. In my heart, I knew that I needed something that was not in lockstep. I needed unpredictability with unexpected twists where I didn’t know what was coming next. 

Since I have always been an avid hiker, I decided to take my experience to the next level. I wanted to hike the Sierra Nevada, Mount Shasta, Mount Hood, and then I would attempt Mount Rainier. With the mountains to conquer in my heart, I was ready. That was the moment my journey began, and I went down the rabbit hole. I knew I needed some interior renovations so getting back to nature was the perfect place to work on myself.

My first chapter begins in Northern California where I took a mountaineering course. Then as a warmup, I decided to spend some time in the Sierra Nevada. 



They were, purifying in the truest sense of the word. It turned out that California was the perfect place for me to slow down and get in sync with nature’s rhythms again. The hikes were steep and strenuous but not highly technical, perfect for the first leg of my journey. I baptized myself in the hot springs which was a cathartic experience. As I soaked naked in the springs alone, it came to me that nature is never in a rush. I needed to heed that mantra as I continue through my life. The time I spent there was heaven, it made me feel human again. 

My next conquest was Mount Shasta. When I arrived at the park I was told about a guide who had just died. She shared my name Jillian, and I hoped that it wasn’t a bad omen. Shasta, it turns out, was a turning point in my trip. It was here that things got intense. I was pushing the limits of my comfort zone on a 12-day hike. I had no experience with Alpine travel and now I had fear after hearing the name of the fallen guide. I knew there were inherent risks to this trip, so I took precautions and carried on in the steps of the Jillian who had fallen to honor her name.

My next stop was Oregon and Mount Hood. Breathtaking vistas greeted me as the trail climbed towards the sky. It was rocky and steep in some places, easy in others. “Like life,” I thought to myself. What awaited me when I got near the top was purgative. I took a photo at sunset of “The Pearly Gates.” Truly a stairway to heaven. Shrouded in a blanket of pristine snow. It’s a view I will never forget. 

My goal to climb all three mountains was humbling, with small weather windows and no control over the elements. It compares so closely with my recovery from alcohol addiction. During that time, I often felt as though I had so little control over what happened in my life. Fighting to stay sober, to face each challenge with a clear head and an open heart is much like climbing a mountain. You must take it one step at a time and be ready for life to throw you a curve.

Mount Hood, I successfully summited alone without a crew as my confidence grew. There are people who say that victory is hollow when you are alone, to me they are mistaken. The funny thing is I felt more hollow after graduating from college with my friends all around me. On this mountain, I tasted my accomplishment in every footstep, and I was proud of it even though I was by myself.

With my permit in hand, I traveled to Mt. Rainer. To summit this, I would need to be tethered to other people, which by the way, is the ultimate trust-building exercise. My gut told me to be cautious as our leader was a man I instantly didn’t like. He was careless and full of himself, the perfect cocktail for disaster. The going was steep and other guides had said that the way he had chosen was foolhardy. We made it to Ingraham Flat after an exhausting day, and that’s when the voice inside me spoke up. I expressed to him and my group that I had reservations about continuing. I told him that I would not push for the summit.

As it turned out the next day the weather turned and no one summitted. 

My intention for this whole journey was to do things that were beyond my reach, but this time, on this mountain there was a feeling in my gut. That feeling let me know exactly what I needed to be doing, and even though I didn’t summit Mount Rainier, I fulfilled my expectations a thousand times over.

The lessons that you learn out on a mountain translate to the lessons in everyday life, and those are precious lessons I will never forget.