I enjoy going for walks but I don't consider myself a hiker (even though I've been on plenty of hikes and even some backpacking trips).
What I want to ask about in this post is the mindset of hikers, which I don't seem to have.
When I go for walks, my criteria is that it be relatively safe (including for my dog if I'm walking with a dog) and pleasant in terms of view and weather.
When I have no dog with me, my walks generally start directly at my home and in effect I'm just walking around my neighborhood or out a quiet road and back. When with a dog I would normally drive a few miles to the empty roads outside of town and start the walk from there so the dog doesn't need to be on leash.
My goal, other than giving the dog exercise, is my own exercise. I'm not hiking toward a destination. I may care about the distance I cover, but only in an exercise/accomplishment sense. I am "enjoying the view" but it's roughly the same view I would see from home every day. I have no desire for variety and actually prefer the sense of familiarity and "habit" so I would be inclined to walk the same route each time, or choose between a few familiar routes.
I imagine that all of these criteria, other than perhaps making sure the dog got exercise, are quite different for hikers. I wonder if some of you who clearly enjoy hiking might comment on the goals and motivations that would cause someone to choose this HC/SLT hike even in more comfortable temperatures.
Personally I don't see the route itself as all that appealing -- even though hiking in a forest -- even a burned forest if you're interested in seeing the recovery process -- is beautiful, they were surrounded by beautiful forest -- why choose a steep path (and one where others might theoretically be passing you in a dust-stirring OHV?). I don't see the river at that location as any special destination. I can understand people hiking to the actual cove/mine/townsite itself as a lesson in local history, but it doesn't appear that was their thought as it would have made a considerably longer hike and they in fact turned the other direction once at the river trail.
I know I'm not seeing it through the eyes of hikers -- can anyone correct my thinking more toward how they must have been perceiving the appeals of that hike?
This is a great post IMO; very interesting question.
I was actually thinking about this last night, as I relaxed into that snoozy feeling of having had a very very good walk and having forgotten about the world for a day. My doggie and I both conked out heaped onto the couch.
We had only been on an easy-graded "hike". 5-ish miles. No rocks. Flat, wide, tread underfoot. Brilliant sunshine. Lots of "interest" (e.g. views, water features, fall leaf color).
I don't get this feel from a walk, especially in an urban environment. IMO nature has a restorative quality. There's quite a bit of research in this area, evidently (can't cite it at the moment).
But, I also think, in order to get a lot out of hiking (that you can't get out of going for a walk or the treadmill at the gym), you have to pay attention to the feel of nature: the breeze, the leaves, the colors, the chipmunks, the first sign of a storm. There's a sense that there's a whole big world of nature, and then there's you. This isn't for everyone.
I have a feeling the Gerrish-Chungs missed this aspect of hiking. They seem to have had a goal to achieve and felt compelled to achieve it, come hell or high water. And they hadn't the experience to comprehend that they were just a spec in the natural universe. They experienced nature in the worst possible way I could imagine, instead of choosing something that could delight every member of the family. "Dream it and you can achieve it" works in tech, but not with nature: you don't have a say in nature's behavior.
These days, I can get what I need from short, easy, hikes. I was never into "strenuous" or 10-milers. Even on the AT, I was every mile, "Am I there yet?" All I want is to wear myself out, have a few hours away from a fussy world, and get the warm and fuzzy follow-up feeling from snuggling up with my happy-exhausted puppy. The
je ne sais quoi aspect of nature is what makes this happen for me.