A Rollercoaster of Emotions: Lessons from Expo

The debate surrounding the importance of going on the Sophomore Wilderness Expedition, often shortened as “Expo,” is as old as the event itself. Originally, I was a skeptic myself. When I first heard of the concept of the expedition as a new sophomore, I was shocked and appalled that so many people willingly chose to attend such a (seemingly) depraved activity. My first impression of Expo came from the horror stories and shock factors that my anti-Expo friend kept feeding me, things like “You can’t shower and have no access to a bathroom for 10 days!”, “You have to spend 36 hours by yourself with no food!!”, and “It’s endless hiking, you sleep outside in the cold, you cook your own canned food …” However, seeing all my other friends anticipating the trip, I couldn’t help but feel like I was missing out, even though I kept reminding myself that it did not align with my lifestyle – my way of coping with secretly wanting to go but missing the deadline. Eventually, I made the questionable decision of shedding my close-mindedness and signing up, weeks after the deadline. Although every day of Expo I swore I made a major mistake by signing up, I can now confirm that I have zero regrets at all – except maybe for not packing enough. 

As many other people, I think of the trip in intervals or fragments: there was before solo, during solo, and after solo. The first few days of the trip felt like a punch in the face. Our first campsite, although close to our starting point, seemed like a perpetually damp rotting ground with dead animals in one corner and a brown, still pond in another. Our first night set me up for 10 days of poor sleep. The next day, we had what was probably our toughest hike. Day 3 I fell flat on my face while camping, and on day 4 it was announced that our group’s solo would be a day early (it would start that very evening). 

By far, my mental low was on solo. However, it was also on solo when I learned so much more about myself, my endurance, and my approach to life. The first night of solo, I did not sleep at all. I had set my tarp up extremely poorly and was not warm enough in my sleeping bag. For the latter part of the night, I was accompanied by a strange animal that kept making noises – at first I thought it was a horse, then an owl, then a rooster, and finally I gave up guessing. The daytime was not nearly as bad, but I was mostly bored. 

Despite this, what really plagued me on solo was not really the poor sleeping situation, or the loneliness (maybe a little bit), or even the lack of a sense of time – it was genuinely the fact that I knew that after solo, I still had 5 whole days left. Actually, it’s because of all the aforementioned factors (and much more) that I dreaded the 5 more days. To console myself, I kept writing affirmations and things I was grateful for in my journal.

It was in these desperate attempts to make myself feel better when I truly reflected on my approach to Expo. I soon realized how easy it was for me to complain, while turning a blind eye on the serene beauty that engulfed me every day. Being on Expo made me miss things I hardly noticed usually. I compiled a list of things I missed, including simple, mundane everyday activities. I gained a newfound appreciation for my daily life while simultaneously appreciating the position I was in that very moment.

After solo, I still had a hard time, but the last few days were my favorite. The night after we got back from solo, my mood was horrible and I was feeling cynical about the whole trip, when my co-leader really helped me fix my approach. She told us the best way to get through is to be insanely positive about everything, even when it doesn’t match your mood. From days 7-10, everything felt lighter as I tried to follow the philosophies I learned previously. Although the hikes remained hard, each one felt more rewarding and I was increasingly grateful to be in the position I was in. The morning of day 10, we hiked 3 miles straight uphill to get to headquarters (to leave). For the first half of the hike, I really thought I wasn’t going to survive, however obviously I had no choice but to put each foot in front of the other, no matter how slow I was. This is what Expo is: understanding that you don’t really have any other option but to move forward, and the sooner you understand this, the more rewarding the trip will be. 

The value of the expedition is in the confrontation with yourself. You have to rely on and have faith in yourself. During this time, I realized the importance of a good mindset. Although it may sound cliché, a positive approach truly is the key to having a good experience and making it more bearable if you are struggling in other aspects. Perhaps the physical struggle or the lack of daily necessities seems like the hardest part of the expedition, but I believe it’s actually the mental battle. I’m sure others have different experiences, but for me the toughest part of Expo was going through the day, knowing how uncomfortable I was and how I had to live with this discomfort for the rest of the trip. My biggest piece of advice to anyone going on Expo in the coming years is to remember you are bigger than the fear in your head. In the moment, the challenges of the trip sounded so dire and extreme but looking at it now, those 10 days represent a profound break from life spent in rapid, monotonous cycles.