Hiking While Old

Let me make one thing clear from the start: despite the title of this piece, I do not consider myself old. An old man is someone twenty years my senior or more, and this has been true for as long as I can remember. When I was twenty, forty was old, and by the time I myself was forty, that demarcation line had slid another two decades into the future.  So to repeat: I am not old. 

I will, however,  begrudgingly admit that I am no longer young. The signs of my not-youngness are undeniable: My knees ache even when sitting, by back makes strange noises when I stand, and I’ll be damned if I can remember where I left my cellphone. I have had two knee surgeries, both on the same knee and two total hip replacements (not on the same hip), but I refuse to let any of these ache’s and pains slow me down.

If you are like me (and I assume that you are since you are reading this post), you enjoy the outdoors, and perhaps used to go hiking and backpacking when you were younger. For most of us, the space between these trips tends to lengthen as we get older. We begin to take our jobs more seriously, we get married, have children. Before we know it, we have gained more weight than we care to admit and  have suddenly grown very fond of our recliner (can you please grab me a bag of chips while you are up?). Without quite knowing how this happened,  ten years or more have gone by since our last trip, and we now wonder if backpacking is something we can even do anymore. Are we too old? Is it too dangerous? Maybe we should just take up shuffleboard instead. 

Too all this I say: you are never too old (or too overweight) to do what makes you happy. If spending time in the great outdoors is something you truly want to do, then do it. Put down those chips and pick up those weights. Go for a walk, and when you are done with that walk, go for another; and when you have finally whipped that aging body of yours into shape again, plan an outing.

Since retiring three years ago, I have determined to pour as much joy into this life as I possibly can. I have quit drinking, lost fifty pounds, and now work out five times a week. Next year I plan to spend eleven days photographing the Italian Dolomites, and if I am lucky enough to win the reservation lottery, to hike all 91 miles of the Wonderland Trail. This coming July I will spend six days backpacking through the Eagle Cap Wilderness. Come fall, my wife and I will be taking daily hikes in the wilds of Iceland. So no, it is not impossible to hike and backpack if you are no longer young, but it does take some extra planning and preparation. 

• First and foremost, you have to Know Your Limits. In my younger years I could easily cover twenty miles in a day, even with a full backpack. These days, nine is the most I’m willing to attempt in one go, and even that makes me somewhat nervous. Elevation gain and loss also matters–aging knees can only take so much punishment. If you do not know your limits, start slow. Maybe take a few short outings to get an idea of where you are at physically. Remember, just because you could conquer a given trail when you were twenty does not mean that you can do the same hike when you are sixty.

• Know your Route.  Before beginning each trip, I make sure to learn as much as I can about the route I will be taking, including: How many miles between campsites? How much elevation gain and loss there will be? Are there water sources along the way? Are these seasonal or year round? Is there any possibility of encountering snow covered trails? Wild animals? Snakes?  Will I have to ford a river? If I do, is the water likely to be running high or low this time of year? Does the trail pass through any exposed clearcuts or burn areas? Is there cell service? Depending on the trail and the duration of your hike there may be other particulars you will need to make note of. In short, the better you know the route you will be tackling, the less likely you will be surprised by any given element of that trail. And remember: In the wilderness, surprises can be dangerous.

• Bring the Necessities: Water, plus a way of filtering it; A first aid kit; A cellphone and/or a GPS tracker with satellite SOS capability; Enough food for the planned trip duration, plus an extra day; An adequate supply of cooking fuel, plus a lighter and matches; A pot to boil water; A stove; A spoon and a small knife; Plenty of warm clothes (no cotton), including a wool hat, down jacket, windbreaker and an extra pair of socks; Hiking poles; A paper map and a compass and the ability to use them; A waterproof shelter of some sort (tent, bivy, hammock); A sleeping bag or quilt rated for the lowest nighttime temperatures you are likely to encounter; A good backpack, sized and adjusted to your body type; Sunscreen; Bug spray or wipes; A small toothbrush and travel sized toothpaste; Anything else you can not live without (medicine, chocolate, trashy novel). Please note that this list is not an exhaustive one. If you do not know what the necessities are I will go over them in much more detail in a future post.

• Invest in Proper Footwear. I can not stress this one enough. You can not climb bolder strewn trails with the same shoes you use at the gym. Also, make sure the boots you do wear are appropriate for the trail and  weather conditions you are likely to encounter. On a recent snowshoe trip to Crater Lake I left my waterproof and insulated boots behind, and instead chose to take my Solomon summer hiking boots. It wasn’t until I got to that nights campsite that I realized my mistake. Because it was April and quite warm  in the afternoon, the surface layer of the snow had turned to slush as I walked, and by the time I got to my camp both my boots and my socks were soaking wet. I tried to dry them out as best I could (Pro tip: if you get your socks too close to the flame on your camp stove, they will burn), but had limited success. The next morning when I went to put my boots on they were frozen solid. Frozen boots are bad. Frozen boots combined with wet socks are even worse. Luckily, the next day was sunny and warm and I did not have to do any hiking. It took me the rest of that day to defrost my boots and dry my socks, but it was time well spent–and the whole experience a lesson in humility that I will not soon forget.  

• Lighten the Load. You do not need to go full on thru-hiker ultralight crazy, but the lighter your pack is, the easier it will be to carry. And the easier your pack is to carry, the more enjoyable your trip will be. Full disclosure: I have gone full on thru-hiker ultralight crazy,  and now obsess about every single ounce that goes into my pack. I have even made a spreadsheet with all of my backpacking and camera gear and their associated weights. Before each hike I go through this list and carefully decide which items I absolutely need and which I don’t. I then add up the totals and if the resulting number is too high, I go through the list again, and then again if need be.  I also try do identify those items that can be replaced with a similar item at a lighter weight. You do not have to go to such extremes, but you should definitely try to get the total weight of your gear down as low as you possibly can. With all of the above  being said,  please do not skimp on the necessities (see third bullet point, above). Remember, you are going out into the wilderness. You do not want to be caught out in a sudden snowstorm without the proper gear. Nor, do you want to find yourself half way through a six day loop trip and have your fuel run out (been there, done that–not fun. You can eat cold rehydrated beef stew if you have to, but you probably don’t want to).

• Plan for Things to go Wrong and be prepared to improvise. If you go hiking often enough, things will eventually go awry. You will break a tent pole; A chipmunk will shed all of your toilet paper; You will get lost; You will wake up to find that you have pitched your tent in the middle of what is now a small pond; Your boots will freeze…and lest you think that such things are unlikely, let me tell you that every single one of them has happened to be at some point in my hiking career (some of them quite recently). Of course, you have no way of knowing what will go wrong in advance, but  if you are prepared, and mostly I mean mentally prepared, then you will be able to deal with the resulting chaos.

• Listen to your body. Pain has a purpose, and that purpose is to keep you from doing further damage to yourself. If your feet are telling you that you need to take a break, then take a break. If your knees are aching and your legs have begun to shake, then you have likely gone far enough for the day. If you are feeling week and lightheaded, you need to eat something. If your mouth is dry, take a drink. If you ignore the things your body is trying to tell you, you do so at your own peril. 

• Tell someone where you are gong and when you plan to return. If know one knows you are missing, or where you might hove gone, how will they find you? I know you don’t plan to get lost or injured, and maybe you think you can get yourself to safety even if you do. But what if you can’t? Is this really the hill you want to die on? For me, the answer to that question is definitely no.

Hiking through a beautiful wilderness is one of the most enjoyable pastimes I can imagine. Unfortunately, it is one of those things that we think we will no longer be able to do as we get older. To that I say: Bullshit! Hiking and backpacking can be more challenging as you get older, but these things are not impossible. You can do anything you put your mind to. Now do it.