My first real day hike, I packed like I was moving in. Camp stove. Full-size cutting board. A glass jar of peanut butter. I was doing a 6-mile loop in the Smoky Mountains, not crossing Patagonia. By mile two, my shoulders were screaming and I’d eaten half my food out of desperation just to lighten … Read more
My first real hike nearly broke me — and my clothes were half the problem. I showed up in a cotton t-shirt, a pair of old jeans, and the confidence of someone who had no idea what was ahead. By mile two, my shirt was soaked through and clinging to my back like a wet … Read more
A few years back, I stepped onto a trail in Colorado and made it about four miles before a thunderstorm rolled in faster than any forecast had suggested. I was above treeline, exposed, with nowhere to go. That afternoon changed how I think about every hike I take. I’ve been hiking across the Rockies, the … Read more
I still remember the morning I stood at the trailhead with my old pack and a printout from some hiking forum. The trail was listed at 6 miles. I was fresh out of college, fit enough, and completely clueless about what those 6 miles actually meant. I made it back — barely — with shaking … Read more
I pulled into the Zion National Park trailhead at 6 a.m., coffee in hand, pack on my back — and got turned away at the gate. No permit. I had completely forgotten that the Zion Narrows required a bottom-up permit during peak season. I drove two hours for nothing. That morning changed how I prepare … Read more
I remember standing at the trailhead on my first hike like it was last week. My pack felt too heavy. My boots felt too stiff. And I had absolutely no idea if I’d packed the right things or chosen the right trail. I almost drove home before I even started. That was years and hundreds … Read more
The first time I went on a proper day hike, I wore basketball sneakers, brought one small water bottle, and had zero idea where the trail actually went. I turned around after two miles with soaked socks, a mild headache, and a bruised ego. That hike was a good teacher, though. It showed me exactly … Read more
My first hike was a disaster. I wore canvas sneakers, brought one small water bottle, and had zero idea where the trail ended. About a mile in, my feet were soaked from a stream crossing I didn’t know was coming, and I turned around convinced hiking “wasn’t for me.” Twelve years later, I’ve hiked through … Read more
I remember coming off the back half of a ridge descent in Shenandoah National Park feeling like someone had filled my calves with wet cement. My boots felt right. My pack was dialed in. But my legs — especially from the knee down — were shot. A friend I was hiking with that day pulled … Read more
I remember my first long hike. My legs felt like wet concrete by mile six. My calves burned. My ankles puffed up like balloons. A friend handed me a pair of compression socks the next morning and said, “Try these next time.” I thought he was joking. He was not. Short answer: Compression socks for … Read more