So this is all about setting out on a quest. Except … not to put too fine a point on it … I’ll accept that life is a quest, but going for a hike — even as a group — is taking a hike. Unless it happens you have Sauron’s One Ring To Rule Them All in your duffel and you’re on you way to Mordor, then Mt. Doom. Where you and your duffel (and The Ring) are planning to leap into the volcano.
Otherwise, you’re out for a day of good, healthy exercise, not a quest. It might even constitute a journey. Still not a quest. I don’t know anyone who has quested. Long trips to foreign shores? Yes. Quest. Not really.
Maybe my mother was on a quest. She was always looking for the absolutely best prices on some really fine Italian wool (she was a tailor) and while she was at it, tried to determine what was the best things to buy in which cities of which countries. Maybe, for her, it was a quest … but I think it was a series of great vacations with a lot of shopping. Call me crazy.
What happens when you come to the end of your quest? Because … every trip, journey, high, whatever you choose to call it will come to an end. You come to the top of the mountain, the end of the path. Even complete the final leg of your journey to enlightenment. It happens. I hope you’ve got plan B.
The ship comes into the harbor and ties up at the pier. The passengers depart, taking their gear with them. The hikers come home, put their feet up and start posting pictures on Instagram.