Character Development

When I set out on The Grand Detour, my expectations were as large as the name of this adventure. I was crossing the world, chasing both the familiar but also equally the unknown, deliberately stepping into situations far from comfortable. Two thirds of my summer would be spent in a tent; a far cry from the sun soaked plazas and cafe terraces most people envision when they think of a classic European summer. But that was exactly what I was signing up for. That was my version of experiencing the world and was what I believed made me a traveller instead of a tourist.

What I didn’t expect was to feel like a different person entirely by the time I returned home. While travelling, I had complete autonomy and influence over my days. No job to rush to, no deadlines or lectures for school to sit through. Just the freedom to be unapologetically authentic, something I hadn’t always felt I could do in the confines of London, Ontario or anywhere else I’ve called home.

After the whirlwind of the World Scout Moot, I threw myself straight into my final European adventure: a five day backpacking trek through Vålådalen, a remote hiking paradise in Northern Sweden. I knew I could handle it physically however hiking is as much a mental game as it is a physical one and this leg of the journey would prove that time and time again.

With my bag repacked for purpose, I set out. Rain soaked the trail. Mud clung to my boots refusing to part ways. The path (if you could even call it that) climbed over mountains and dipped into deep, lush valleys. Each day tested me, but somewhere between the third(?) river crossing and the moment my socks gave up on ever being dry, something shifted. I stopped measuring the trip against my predetermined expectations and started noticing what was in front of me. Sure, this wasn’t the hike I’d pictured; it was wetter, certainly grittier, and without a doubt colder. But here I was, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by wild blueberries and peaks that caught the light in a way I’d never seen before. I could resist the discomfort, or I could embrace it.

Once I chose the latter, my enjoyment soared. The flavourless freeze dried dinners became fuel for appreciation. The wet hikers? a badge of perseverance. The river crossings? A thrill rather than an obstacle. I learned that sometimes the things that go wrong are the very reason the right moments stand out so much and that? That is a beautiful thing to come to terms with.

The highlights were plentifully present as well. The endless greenery, the kindness of the people I met, and yes, the sauna (In Scandinavian fashion, my hike did have a sauna). The mountains surrounded me at all hours, dramatic, all-encompassing, and humbling. The trail was mostly quiet, but when I did cross paths with others, their warmth reminded me how far a simple “Hej” and a smile can go. The mountain huts along the route were unlike anything I’d seen back in Canada. They were small, self-sustaining communities where strangers cooked together, traded stories, and shared the sauna and fire powered shower. The heat was welcome after a cold day’s trek, but more than that, I loved the ritual of it; the way it gathered people together.

By the time I reached the end of the trail, I had travelled nearly 58 kilometres and climbed over 1,300 metres in elevation. But more importantly, I’d reconnected with more of the values that matter most to me: gratitude, resilience, and openness; continuing a trend that I’ve noticed in prior segments of my trip.

Now, as I make my way home to Canada, my emotions are tangled. Life back home is busy but I’ve been running at 110% most days since I landed in Europe, and that pace is exhausting. On the other hand, I’m also leaving behind experiences and connections that have shaped me more than I could have imagined. I truly believe that I’ve grown into the most authentic version of myself I’ve ever known, and my biggest fear is that once I’m home, others will see only the Ethan who left, not the one who has returned.

It would be easy to slip back into old rhythms and patterns. But I’ve seen who I can be when I’m thriving, and I’m not willing to trade that away. Not for anything.

My Europe chapter is closing, but The Grand Detour isn’t over yet. I still have two weeks of adventures waiting for me back in British Columbia. Stick around. I can’t wait to share them with you.

With love,

E