Most hikes are pretty fun (even if sometimes the grueling ones are more type 2 fun), but there are aways those special ones that leave you thinking about them afterwards. So what sets one hike apart from another and makes it spectacular?
For me, there are a few things:
Living on the east coast, we don't have the same spectacular views around every corner that lots of western hikers are blessed with, so when a hike does provide lots of views and time above treeline, I tend to go back to it over and over again.
I'm a sucker for berry season. I could easily spend and hour or two in the middle of a hike picking wild blueberries or raspberries.
Finally, I like a nice swimming hole at the end of a long day of hiking. Bonus points if I can jump off a rock into the water.
So what sets a hike apart for you, and elevates it to the next level?
For me, it could be as simple as not raining! I'm a drought-breaker when it comes to hiking.
Nice weather, challenging trails, nice humans, and dogs! I lead a doggy hiking group, and to us, nothing is more enjoyable than watching the unbridled joy of our dogs running around and frolicking.
Solitude has become a bigger factor for me over the years. Waiting in line on a trail or to see a viewpoint makes me feel like I’m back in the city. Don’t get me wrong, I like people, but when I hike I’m looking for an escape.
I can tell you! Everytime I see my backpack somewhere in the corner of my room my feet are starting to fidget. It´s the hike itself. If you´re out there with wind, rain and sun on your face and nothing else but wilderness.
Back to the roots of mankind I guess - that makes a hike spectacular for me!
Thanks for that topic.
I'm with you about the berries grzeg_oh, but last July I was hiking through a burn and stumbled across a prolific patch of morel mushrooms. The hike came to a halt as I picked a hat-full for our dinner (and breakfast) enough to share with friends.
This kind of thing always makes me think of the Mary Oliver poem "How I go to the Woods"
Ordinarily, I go to the woods alone, with not a single
friend, for they are all smilers and talkers and therefore
I don’t really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirds
or hugging the old black oak tree. I have my way of
praying, as you no doubt have yours.
Besides, when I am alone I can become invisible. I can sit
on the top of a dune as motionless as an uprise of weeds,
until the foxes run by unconcerned. I can hear the almost
unhearable sound of the roses singing.
If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love
you very much.
Wow! Thanks for the Mary Oliver, Bonfire! Well said