My Story: The Journey to Backwoods and Bordeaux

Welcome to Backwoods and Bordeaux!

I hope to inspire you to spend time in nature.

Hi, I’m Raina, and I absolutely love spending time outdoors! One of my big goals is to visit all 63 national parks in the United States, and so far, I’ve made it to 24. It’s been challenging to prioritize time in nature with gut health and energy issues, as well as a busy work schedule. But every time I get outside—whether it’s gardening, walking, driving, or hiking—I feel my anxiety lessen and my mind clear. While I’m on this journey to connect with nature more, I hope sharing my adventures inspires you to find small ways to incorporate the outdoors into your life too.

I grew up in the Pacific Northwest, about 20 miles northeast of Seattle. It rains about nine months of the year here, but we still managed to get outside rain or shine. Our summers are lush and green, and the views of the Olympics and Cascades, with Puget Sound and countless lakes and rivers nearby, are hard to beat. When I was little, we lived in West Seattle, and my mom often took us to Alki Beach and Lincoln Park to explore tidepools and touch sea anemones, watching them shrink up. Camping trips to the San Juan Islands or across the Cascades to Eastern Washington’s channeled scablands were a regular part of my childhood. I loved summer camping—the freedom to roam wild, the smell of campfire in my hair, and the sting of bug spray on scrapes earned from running through the forest.

When I was homeschooled starting in fourth grade, I had even more time to spend outdoors. We lived on an acre of land down a dirt road with a tree fort and a rope swing. My brother and I would play make-believe games, pretending we were orphans surviving on our wits and the land. Or I would imagine I was communing with the faeries (as one does). As I got older, those carefree days gave way to structured activities, tougher schoolwork, and a busier social calendar. Camping trips became less frequent, and make-believe games turned into bike rides, mall trips, and movies with friends.

It wasn’t until after graduating from the University of Washington that I rediscovered my love for the outdoors. A sorority sister invited me on a hike to Lake 22, and I was captivated by her stories and photos of alpine glow and talus fields. The idea of hiking uphill for hours just to see the beauty of the mountains was new to me, but I had to try it. I bought my first pair of hiking boots and set out. That hike changed everything—I knew I wanted to spend more time in nature, but I had so many questions. How do I start? Who do I go with? Will every hike be this hard?

For years, I felt a pull to see mountaintop views but didn’t know where to begin. Then, a coworker introduced me to overnight backpacking. To prepare, we trained on steep after-work hikes along the I-90 corridor near Snoqualmie Pass. My first backpacking trip was along the Washington coast with a group of friends. It was September, and it rained the entire time. I’ve never been so soaked—water poured out of my boots, and my clothes were wrung out and dried by the fire. Despite the discomfort, I loved every moment and went on many more backpacking trips after that. My friend and I became what I refer to as “bougie backpackers,” often carrying extra weight for cute tent lights, floaties for the alpine lakes, or canned cocktails to enjoy at sunset. Those trips were filled with unforgettable memories.

But reaching these breathtaking places isn’t easy. It takes work, training, and planning. I’ve cried on boulder fields, feeling small and helpless under a 40-pound pack, crawling to the next rock while praying not to fall. I’ve pushed my body beyond what I thought possible, from kickstepping up slushy snowfields on Mount St. Helens to navigating boulder fields in the dark with just a headlamp. These experiences have taught me resilience and reminded me I can do hard things.

In recent years, my time in the wilderness has been limited. My long-standing digestive issues worsened, leaving me with constant fatigue and brain fog. Hiking became too demanding, and I had to adjust my relationship with nature. Instead of long hikes, I took drives to explore new roads or walked in local parks. It took time to let go of the guilt of scaling back and embrace these smaller moments. Eventually, I found a functional medicine practitioner who diagnosed me with Leaky Gut, IBS, and SIBO. Treating these conditions has been a journey, involving antibiotics, dietary changes, and supplements. Though I’m not completely healed, my energy and mental clarity have significantly improved.

As I look ahead to 2025, I’m eager to return to more hiking and outdoor adventures, while remaining mindful of my body’s needs. With Backwoods + Bordeaux, I hope to inspire you to spend time outdoors and discover the healing magic of nature—whatever that looks like for you. Whether it’s a drive down a scenic road, a walk in the park, or reading on the beach, find those magical moments that make you smile. Hug a tree, listen to the birds, and find your balance. For me, that balance often includes treating myself to a glass of wine or a piece of chocolate after a hike. Here’s to more time in the woods and finding beauty in every day!