My Journey to Hiking Lighter on the Land
You know, I’ve been hitting the trails for years. Decades, maybe. Back when I started, I honestly didn’t think too much about my, well, my footprint. Just laced up the boots, grabbed some water, maybe a sandwich wrapped in foil, and off I went. Didn’t really consider much beyond getting to the viewpoint or the waterfall.
I remember one time, must’ve been fifteen years ago now, up in the mountains I used to visit every summer. It was always my quiet spot. But that year, I got to this little overlook I loved, and it was just… messy. Orange peels tucked behind a rock, a plastic bottle half-hidden under a bush, and the ground all trampled down way off the main path. It just felt wrong. Like someone had come into my own backyard and dumped their junk. That really stuck with me. It wasn’t just my quiet spot, was it? It belonged to everyone, and to nature itself.
So, I started changing things. Little by little, it wasn’t some big overnight switch. First thing I did was get serious about my trash. Seriously serious. Everything, and I mean everything, that I packed in, I packed out. Used tissues, apple cores, wrappers, foil. I started carrying an extra little bag just for garbage. Sounds simple, but it took conscious effort at first.
Then I looked at the trails themselves. I used to cut corners sometimes, you know? Take a shortcut up a switchback if it looked faster. Seemed harmless. But after seeing that worn-down overlook, I realized how that multiplies. One person does it, then another follows, and pretty soon you’ve got a new path eroding the hillside. So, I made myself stay on the marked trail. No exceptions. Even if it was muddy, even if it was longer. Just stuck to the path the park service or whoever laid out.
- I started planning more too. Looked at maps, sure, but also thought about where I’d eat lunch, making sure it was on a durable surface like rock or bare ground, not on delicate plants.
- Stopped building little rock piles, cairns they call ’em. Used to think they looked cool. Then I read they can mess up the natural look and confuse other hikers who might rely on official markers. So, I stopped doing that. Just enjoyed the rocks as they were.
- And wildlife? Learned to keep my distance. No feeding the squirrels or deer, no matter how cute they looked. Just observed them quietly from afar. Let them do their thing without me bothering them.
It felt different, hiking this way. Took a bit more thought, yeah. Couldn’t just stomp wherever I pleased. But honestly? It felt better. Cleaner. Like I was a visitor walking through someone else’s home, which, really, I was. You start noticing more when you slow down and pay attention, too. The little plants, the way the light hits the trees. It wasn’t just about conquering the trail anymore.
It became about experiencing the place without leaving a scar. That’s pretty much how I hike now. Just trying to walk softly, you know? Leave it just like I found it, or maybe even a little better if I pack out some extra trash I find along the way. It’s not hard, just takes a bit of thinking ahead and caring. That’s my way, anyway.
