Hike!

I haven’t written much about hiking in a while.  That’s because, well, I haven’t been hiking.  I mentioned to That One Guy (TOG) that I hadn’t been hiking in a while, and he asked why.  I said, “It’s been too hot!”  It has been too hot, but that’s only been the month of July.  I haven’t been hiking much since last summer.  Or even the summer before that.  What gives?

I don’t know.  I love hiking.  I love nature.  I love how for me, it’s as if Mother Earth is hugging my hiking boots.  That said, life happens.  The first summer of Covid, I believe I hiked a lot.  If I look back on the hiking page of my website, I see that I completed 65 hikes.  I think I probably hiked more than that; I just marked 65 of the unique hikes.  In 2021, I was hit with extreme tiredness in July.  That lingered and still lingers today.  Still, I managed to photograph and post 45 hikes.  This year, I’ve posted nothing.  What gives?

It’s not like I’ve been sitting around doing nothing.  This year (particularly in June and July), I was able to do some traveling.  That kept me away from the hiking trails.  I also have a morning schedule now.  Every morning, I try to attend 7 AM meditation.  In the past, I would leave my home early to get on the hiking trails before it was too warm or too crowded.  Now, I could leave at 8 or soon after meditation was over.  Then there’s the issue with yoga classes.  Most of the yoga I choose to attend is in the mornings around 9 or 11 AM.  I can’t go to yoga class if I am off on a hiking trail.

My body and mind miss the hiking experience.  This past week, I decided it was time to get back on the mountain again.  I chose a trail that I love, a trail that I know and have hiked very often.  I decided to set up all my necessary gear so that after meditation that morning I could just hop in the car and go hiking.

That morning, when my alarm went off, I had reservations.  I thought, “Just put on flip flops; you haven’t hiked in a while.  What’s another day without hiking?”  Then I changed my mind.  I figured I had already been on my yoga mat 5 times that week, so missing a yoga class was not going to be an issue.  Really, I don’t want to “should” myself into going to yoga, but sometimes the pull between the mat and the mountain can be tricky.  It’s much easier for me to get to a yoga class on zoom or at the gym across the street.  Getting to the mountain requires at least a 15 to 20 minutes drive.  So, the mat often wins.

This time, I made the choice to get ready for the hike.  After meditation was over, I put on my hiking boots and headed out the door.  As I drove towards the east where the mountains are, I noticed the rising sun.  Now the sun was high in the morning sky, making silhouettes of the mountains.  The clouds were tiny white puffs.  As I drove into the canyon, I could see the beautiful green.  I was surprised: it’s been extremely dry here on the Wasatch, yet the mountainsides still held their green.  I felt as if the canyon was saying, “Welcome home.”

When I stepped out of my car, I felt a difference in the air.  Even at 8 AM, the air at home was warm and a little sticky.  Here in the canyon, the air felt cool.  People were already on the trail.  There were runners and folks walking their dogs.  I stepped on the trail and started my hike.

It had been so long since I had been on the trail, it almost seemed foreign to me.  Did I remember this part of the trail?  Am I in the right place?  Suddenly, I saw the pine trees I was familiar with.  “Ah, this is the spot that looks like Narnia when I hike during the winter and there’s snow everywhere,” I thought.  I kept going.  Early on in the trail, I could still hear the road noise of the cars passing by.  I was hopeful I would get away from those sounds and hear the water in the streams that flow nearby.  As I moved along the trail, the tree cover lessened, and I started getting more sun exposure.  I noticed the temperature change to what seemed like a warmer one.  Would the hike get too hot?  Would I want to stop and turn around?  I set no agenda.  I would just hike until I wanted to turn around.  Right now, that seemed like it would be my favorite spot to take a picture.  I set a goal to get that far.

Occasionally, the runners would cross my path.  They would wave hello.  Then there were the dog walkers.  The dogs would approach me first, their tongues lagging out, with what I perceived as sloppy grins on their faces.  The dogs’ humans would then greet me, and off they’d go.  At some point, I realized I had traveled high enough that I no longer heard the road noise.

I continued on to my favorite photo spot.  I’ve been taking photos there for years during every season.  My favorite photo is at the beginning of fall, just as the sunlight is coming through the trees.  Still, I love to see this spot in snow, in mud, and when the wildflowers are just starting to bloom.  It seemed like a good turnaround spot.

I noticed the sky had changed to a solid blue; the clouds had disappeared.  I heard a sound that seemed like there was a runner behind me.  I stopped to let them pass.  I looked behind me: there was no one.  I realized the sound was me!  It was the rattle of my water bottle in my waist pack.

As I continued to hike, I reached my stopping point.  I wasn’t very tired, and I was feeling happy and enjoying my time in nature.  I realized how much I enjoyed hiking and how much I missed it.  I decided I would go on a bit farther to a spot where the trail crossed a swift stream.  As I hiked, I saw Asters, Black-Eyed Susans, thistles, and berries that resembled blueberries.  As I reached a steeper elevation gain, I wondered if I really wanted to reach the stream.  Past the elevation, it seemed like the trail was taking longer than I remembered.  I was so close to the stream though!  I wasn’t going to turn back.

When I reached the stream, it didn’t disappoint.  The water was as special as ever.  I could see muddy dog prints around the edges of the stream.  I breathed in the soft air and took a few minutes break.  Then it was time to turn around and head back.

On my way back, a woman stopped me.  She wanted to know how much farther the trail went.  “Oh!” I said, “It goes for miles.  But a short way from here, there’s a nice stream.  That’s a great place to stop and turn around.”  She thanked me and went on her way.  I laughed to myself, “She thinks I’m a trail expert.  Ha!”

As I hiked back, I decided the next week I would try a more challenging trail.  I was doing okay!  I could do something a little trickier next time.  Of course, as my journey back to the car went longer and longer, I wondered if I really could do the trickier trail.  I told myself that on that trail, I could take as long as I wanted and I could use my hiking poles.  Still, I wondered what the other hikers would think, watching a slow hiker navigate what they were probably running through.  Really?  Was I going to sabotage a future hike by worrying what other people might think?  That seemed pretty lame.  I set the intention to do the more challenging hike the next week.  Everyone there can just pass me.

When the hike that day was done, my cup was full.  I appreciated my connection to nature and looked forward to the next time.  Here’s hoping it happens sooner rather than later.