Reading Bill Bryson’s A Walk in the Woods was a great pleasure. Perhaps no more entertaining book has been written on the pleasure—and mostly pain—of hiking the Appalachian Trail. One thing it did do for me for sure was to dash my dream of actually doing it. That and the fact that I have to sleep plugged in (my sleep apnea machine).
[I made it to the trail marker!]
I’ve done a few backpacking trips in my life, though—one of them to a remote beach on the Pt. Reyes Peninsula in Northern California that rewarded me with an amazing show of whale surf-rolling and sky-hopping. It also rewarded me w
ith a dew-fall that soaked my sleeping bag and me just about as thoroughly as sleeping tentless in the rain.
On another hike, in the fuzziness of early awakening in a dim tent, I accidentally grabbed my container with sleeping pills and pain killers instead of my morning vitamin container, and ended up having the most euphoric and painless hike of my life. There’s not a whole lot I remember about it. My hiking companions told me I was a real trooper.
Then there’s that wonderful sport called orienteering—a real hike producer. I tried that a couple times too. But being with a bunch of two-man teams trampling the wildflowers
, cussing at brambles (in a Christian manner, of course!) and in general terrorizing everything in the woods to get from one flag to the next also did not do it for me. When you don’t take time to identify poison ivy, for instance, you don’t just scratch your head trying to read your compass, you end up a couple days later scratching every part of your body.
Yes, I do like hiking, but to be honest I don’t hike to actually go from trailhead A to trailtail B. I go for the journey, not the destination. Actually I sort of amble through the wild. Nibble a sassafras leaf or two. Breathe in the fragrance of sun warmed pine needles. Listen for the haunting song of the wood thrush. Tip over a downed log to search for spotted salamanders. Try to get a rise out of a barred owl by hooting “who cooks for you; who cooks for you-hoo.” Stop to identify the wildflowers (and the poison ivy). Photograph unfamiliar tree le
aves and plants to “key out” when I get home. (Keying out is especially helpful when you want to collect mushrooms to eat: one euphoric hike is probably enough!)
That’s my speed. So that’s why I mostly hike alone. Maybe one day, though, I might meet you on the trail, meandering as I do, or truckin’ on through to point B. I’ll be the codger on my knees off the trail trying to get a good picture of ground pine, fern fiddleheads, hepatica, or jack in his pulpit.
See you outdoors!
Dean
May 29th, 2009 at 9:23 am
Now you are into my world when you talk of hiking or camping. My wife and I will camp 15 to 20 days per year, hike and ride bicycles in the Great Smoky Mountains NP.
I’m still a Boy Scout (adult leader) and at 65 still go with the troop on each outing. We’ll travel about 10 miles and gain 1000 feet elevation our next backpacking trip. I have lots of friends who say I’m crazy. I respond that I probably am, but I’ll be out there anyway. If I can instill just a little love for the natural world to my boys, its worth the effort.
But I don’t do it just to help others enjoy the outdoors, I do it because I love it. There is nothing I would rather do than hike a mountain trail, fly-fish a small stream, set up a primitive camp, or listen and look for wild creatures.
The boys seem to respond. They seem to understand my joy from being on a hike or campout, and I believe its a little contagious. So as the Lord allows, I’ll continue. I heard of a scout leader who at 80 still camped with his troop. I’ve got just 15 years to catch up with him.
May 29th, 2009 at 6:56 pm
Count me in any time you talk about hiking and camping. My friend and I were just talking about setting up some hikes for this summer here in the Washington Cascades.
We’ll take our annual trip to Rainier National Park. It’s always a winner.
We’ll also plan a series of three to five mile hikes into a lake or scenic point, have lunch and return. Pretty tame compared to my younger days when it would have been a 30 mile, 3 day trip to the most remote spot we could find. It’s just that sleeping on the ground doesn’t have the same attraction it used to.
Anyway, I’ll let you know how things go.
May 29th, 2009 at 10:31 pm
Great! Snap some pictures too. We want to begin posting more of our reader photos.
Dean
June 8th, 2009 at 11:34 am
Dean,
A little devotional on hiking equipment.
Jerry
HIKING EQUIPMENT
Who may ascend the hill of the Lord? Who may stand in his holy place? He who has clean hands and a pure heart, who does not lift up his soul to an idol or swear by what is false. Ps. 24:3-4
Last winter, my wife and I decided to take a little day hike in the Superstition Mountains east of Phoenix. Although it was a relatively short hike, it involved a climb of around 800 feet in elevation through the desert. We had forgotten our hiking sticks, but the trail was pretty heavily traveled, and it looked like a fairly easy walk. However, as we climbed higher, the trail became rougher, and we found ourselves scrambling over large boulders. The climb was a lot more difficult without a hiking stick to help in balancing ourselves.
Having the right equipment even for a short hike in the desert is important. Trail signs often warn hikers to wear proper footgear, to take along adequate water, and to use a hiking stick.
In our spiritual walk, we also need the right equipment. We need the ‘map’ provided by God’s Word; the ‘footgear’ provided by spiritual disciplines such as prayer, fasting, and study; living water provided through worship and sacraments; and a ‘hiking stick’ of forgiveness and hospitality to help us up and over the tough terrain. Only with Jesus as our guide and the right spiritual equipment can we climb the mountain of God (Isa. 2:3) and truly see that the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand (Mt. 10:7).