A few years ago, I met Sue on a desert backpacking trip I led for women with visual impairments. I remember her tiny frame exiting the van while she clutched her white cane with one hand. She was self-conscious of her new braces as a woman of 54, but nonetheless smiled as I greeted her and introduced myself as her guide. When we arrived to camp, she gently grasped my elbow as I familiarized her with the space: the bathroom, the kitchen and her tent. I tried my best to describe the vast desert valleys and green brush that surrounded us. I helped her set up her tent, pack her backpack and organize her food for our weeklong adventure. I figured the days ahead would be filled with endless talking, countless descriptions of the landscape and meticulous directions on our daily hikes. I was prepared for a hoarse voice and tired mind.
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