I've spent years living far from my older brother. A 4-day trek in South America put me in the lead for once.

Sinead Mulhern's brother joined her on a trek in South America. Provided by Sinead Mulhern 2026-04-15T04:02:01.231Z Share Copy link Email Facebook WhatsApp X LinkedIn Bluesky Threads lighning bolt icon An icon in the shape of a lightning bolt.

Impact Link Save Saved Read in app This story is available exclusively to Business Insider subscribers. Become an Insider and start reading now. Have an account? Log in. It's been 8 years since Sinead Mulhern left Canada behind for a slower, more affordable life in Ecuador. It had been years since she'd seen her brother, and she planned a multi-day trek for his visit. She learned that while sibling relationships evolve, certain things remain the same. AI-generated summary Summaries are generated by an AI model trained on Business Insider's articles. AI may make mistakes or provide inaccurate/incomplete information. We're unable to load that answer right now. Please try again. Why choose Ecuador for a slower life? How do sibling relationships evolve over time? What makes Ecuador appealing to expats? What are the challenges of living abroad? Why is trekking a bonding experience? My older brother, Fergus, and I have spent most of our adult lives chasing the same thing — just never in the same place at the same time. Loading audio narration... We're both adventurous, but our lives have unfolded on different continents since 2009. That was the year he left home. I was still in high school.He spent his 20s traveling around the world. And in 2016, when I was 25 and working as an editor in Toronto, he moved to Australia. Two years later, when he moved back to Canada, I was the one who'd caught the travel bug. We were only in the same place for a few days before I left for Colombia.I've been living in South America ever since. Sibling adventure in South AmericaIn January, Fergus visited me in Ecuador, where I've been living for eight years. To catch up properly, I planned a multi-day trek through sleepy mountain towns.Walking for days through remote landscapes felt like the best way to make up for lost time. We started in a small farming town about two hours outside Quito. With backpacks and a few changes of clothes, we set out along a dirt road tracing green mountains through farmland. Over 26 miles, we passed rows of peaks, clay brick homes, and a river carved into a deep gorge.With no signal and no one around, we talked about everything: his winter plans, my writing, our younger brother's upcoming wedding, and memories from camping trips we'd nearly forgotten. At the river, we sat on rocks and drank beers we'd picked up before leaving town. Cows mooed faintly in the distance. "I'm so glad you finally made it," I told him. The siblings caught up and celebrated a missed birthday. Provided by Sinead Mulhern Belated celebrationIt felt like a celebration six months late. Fergus had turned 40 in July, and living abroad, I've missed plenty of milestones. I booked a cabin along the route — a belated birthday gift, complete with a spa and traditional Ecuadorian food. We stayed close over the years, despite the distance. Out of four siblings, we're the most alike — athletic, adventurous, drawn to the same kinds of places. As a kid, I stole his CDs; he shaped my taste in music.Now we both live unconventional lives: me as a freelance writer in Ecuador, him as a tree planter in western Canada. Still, his 10 days in Ecuador were the most time we'd spent together as adults. A four-day trek through remote terrain could have been a gamble, but I knew he'd be in. No questions asked. The siblings caught up during the four-day trek. Provided by Sinead Mulhern Witnessing his wanderlust inspired mineToward the end of our trip, we reached a tiny town — a church, a few dogs, a handful of homes. It was late afternoon, I was hungry and ready to stop when Fergus pushed ahead, scrambling up a steep gorge and insisting the top was "just a few minutes" away. Sweating and irritated, I followed. Midway up this impossible-angled gorge, I checked my frustration, recognizing that I had been doing the same to hiking buddies over the past few years. And also, this trek was my idea, and I knew who I was doing it with.Later, by a turquoise lagoon, I looked at him and saw not just the brother who packed my lunches and drove me to piano lessons, but someone I'll rely on for decades. When it was time to leave, our bus to Quito never came. Instead, we hitched a ride, climbing into the back of a moving truck after getting directions from other trekkers."Get in," I told him, quickly translating the driver's words from Spanish. For once, I was leading.