Lessons in courage, connection, and trust from the trail to the workplace
Since 2018, the mountains have been my lifeline, a yearly return that hasn’t always been easy but has always been needed. Some years I climbed with strength, other years with presence alone. Yet each step carried lessons in trust, belonging, and the power of diverse courage. These are the lessons leaders can carry from the trail to the workplace: where progress is rarely linear and strength often arrives in chorus.
A sea of pink swirls amongst dawn’s early blue, the angel wing wisps of clouds, a soft glow of sunrise peeking behind her rigid crown.
I’ve been waiting for you.
I recall the first time I joined. Back to Mt. Robson, a lost love introduced to me by my Dad over 20 years earlier. In the midst of divorce, I shed the mask of who I’d become and said YES to what became my annual lifeline. It was a decision that sparked the memory of who I am at my core, the playful, determined little girl who yearned for the unconditional love of her “sisters” and the serenity of nature.
That first yes saved my life, and every mountain since has kept me alive. Some years I felt bold, other years I felt broken, but still the mountains received me. Showing up was always enough.
Muscle memory of the Emperor Falls switchbacks was vivid. The sense of accomplishment evoked each step forward. On the trail, pace doesn’t matter. We all land in the same destination. While some prefer the valley view over the summit, the goal is to arrive, to show up, to be present. No matter the heights, the reward is the space and connection. In organizations, this looks like recognizing that progress isn’t linear and not every team member is aiming for the same summit, yet all are vital to the journey.
The trail teaches this with every step. I often wonder what leaders might unlock if they recognized this in their teams. How remarkable would it be to encourage a trajectory like a Unalome, the winding path of enlightenment, instead of a straight climb?
You humans love your words: integrity, innovation, accountability. But without trust, these are only words.
This is where the real work begins, when trust is carried in your actions rather than proclaimed in your slogans.
And in organizations, that truth holds steady. My work begins here: helping leaders build the systems and relationships where trust is operational, not aspirational.
I recall the first glimpse up Snowbird Pass; walking through the ‘Sound of Music’ fields, beyond thrones built of rock, and way up the shale hillside to Robson Glacier. The vast expansion across borders, a reminder of how infinite the earth’s wonders are, and how precious their gifts.
Mountains saved my life.
A group of women revived my soul.
Years followed with many reasons to decline, none ever enough to change my mind. This was now the annual return to me, to this inspirational crew navigating decade differences in life and demonstrating the power of gathering, the resilience of female community that carried us through both strong seasons and tender ones.
I have held women’s laughter longer than any echo. Do you hear it? This is how strength sounds when it travels in chorus.
Much like a well-built team at work, we all possess different skills, perspectives, and goals. Onlookers and fellow trail mates marvel at our pack of 10, sometimes 11. They question how we know one another, where we venture to, and some even inquire about “drama” within. The smiles stretch across our faces, explaining our relationships: sisters, friends, and a next generation within a daughter and her bestie. The negative connotation that there would be “drama” so easily dismissed as it is not something which exists for us. Not because it couldn’t, but because we choose differently. We choose to understand the good intentions of each other’s actions, to love each other enough to ask the tough questions if there is concern, and above all, to know our relationship is built with the fortitude of mountaintops. In the same way, high-performing teams can choose to operate with clarity and compassion, and those choices are what unlock sustainable performance.
We also honour the different definitions of success and celebrate diverse courage. We create rhythms that keep us alive, not just productive – like knowing our laughter is a perfect bear deterrent and even spilled pasta tastes good on the trail.
Not all who walk my slopes will reach my crown. But every step carves a truth of its own. The summit is not the only place to find yourself.
And struggle is part of that journey. On Assiniboine, the last five kilometers felt endless; our legs heavy, our spirits questioning whether we had strayed too far off course. Yet we kept moving, one step at a time, until the path revealed itself again. Leadership, like the trail, often demands the same persistence: the courage to push forward when clarity is lost, the humility to rely on others when you falter, and the trust that progress is made step by step. These lessons are not about conquering summits but about cultivating endurance, presence, and collective strength in the workplace.
The summer of 2025 Mt. Assiniboine was our peak, and we were fortunate to cross paths with the inspirational Lucy Barnard and her sweet pup, Wombat. Having already walked more than 23,000 kilometers, she is seeking to be the first woman to walk the length of the earth. Our chance encounter was trail magic at its finest, born of a brief wrong turn. Had we not taken it, we would not have crossed paths.
Meeting Lucy and hearing about her goals expanded our perspective even further. Our group represents one kind of courage, hers another. Both remind me that courage is not the absence of struggle but the willingness to keep moving, proof that adventure is personal and diverse. And the sense of belonging we all seek is out there, your group is waiting too. For leaders, the same truth applies: growth is not about chasing every summit, but about building the trust, rhythm, and community that carry you through the climb.
Return to me, and I will remind you again: you are not meant to stay the same. Shed, grow, climb. In your way, in your time.
And ask yourself: whose hand will you hold when the climb feels steep?
