Happy New Year. If you get Adventure Journal in print, you may have seen my editor’s note about taking on hard things in 2026. Last fall I brainstormed a long list of challenges I wanted to try — ambitious, weird, and fun — then pared it down when I realized how many other responsibilities already fill my year.
My original wish list included things like:
– Hiking the Desert Section of the Pacific Crest Trail (about 700 miles)
– Running or hiking Joshua Tree’s 36.6-mile California Riding and Hiking Trail in a day
– Organizing a large trash cleanup in the Mojave Desert
– Backpacking the Trans-Catalina Island Trail
– Reporting a feature for AJ using only handwritten journal entries and sketches
– Summiting 50 peaks on the Sierra Club Hundred Peaks list
– Making four new friends and hiking with them
– Camping at least 30 nights
– Reaching A2 level in Portuguese
I got energized thinking about all of it. Then reality checked in. My 2026 calendar already includes commitments that demand time and steady attention: planning, editing, and publishing four issues of AJ; writing dozens of newsletters; completing the California Naturalist curriculum (with weekly study, field work, and a volunteer project); and, you know, having a life outside work. I’m not a full-time athlete and can’t devote my entire life to nonstop big adventures. My hard things have to fit inside relationships, work, and the ordinary responsibilities that matter.
So I focused on what I most want from these challenges: sustained time outside, learning from nature, connection, and meaningful effort. The result is a single, season-spanning goal that feels ambitious and achievable: sleep outside at least 100 nights in 2026. My partner says that sounds more fun than hard, and she’s right — but it will also be a stretch. Reaching 100 nights will require planning, prioritizing, and showing up through a whole year. It will let me visit new places, climb peaks, pick up trash, and welcome new people into outings. It doesn’t rule out the other projects; in fact, in the past month I’ve already hiked with two new friends.
I’ve come to think the hardest part isn’t pushing through exhaustion or discomfort — it’s overcoming inertia and starting. I hope sharing this challenge encourages you to name your own hard thing, whatever that means for you, and to commit to it. We get one go at this life in these bodies; there’s no better time than now to go after what matters.
Let’s go do our hard things.
Stephen Casimiro
Founder + Editor
P.S. If you value slowing down and connecting more deeply with the world, consider giving yourself the gift of analog — a printed issue, a handwritten journal, or time away from screens can change how you notice things.
