My Pal Judo

Our Jude. Our brother of the footpath. One of the pillars of our circle of hiking clowns with whom I’ve shared countless days and nights on the trail. “Judo” to those of us fortunate enough to call him brother.

Judo entered my life many years ago during a time when he was navigating the aftermath of a personal chapter. He joined our camp in Northern Michigan through an open invitation from another hiker, a tradition that has helped our group grow over the past 25 years. Looking back, I realize it couldn’t have been the easiest time for him, but despite that, he quickly became a steadfast member of our hiking family. Like so many of us who have faced a hardship, perhaps he was searching for something—peace, clarity, or simply a bit of solace—and I like to think that in our shared hikes through the mountains and trails, he found all of that. More than that, our company, rich with understanding and camaraderie, offered him a healing that words often can’t provide. Whether it was lending an attentive ear around a late-night campfire, sharing a sip of bourbon while savoring life’s small moments, or sitting in quiet reflection by the shoreline with the crash of waves below, those moments have become the foundation of lasting bonds. As the years have passed, Judo has become a pillar of strength for others, offering support to those in our group who face their own challenges.

For all of us, Judo’s friendship is a reminder that no matter how tough life may get, we always have each other. Sometimes, that’s all we really need, right? Well, that and a sip of bourbon, of course.

Life is good. So good. Thank you for being the best pal a man could have, Judo. You are loved.

~ Jamie