Why is hiking considered healthy and why can’t I seem to remember I’m 70?
By: Pam Saraga
Tags: Fitness, Hiking, Health, Humor, Aging

Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

Hiking to Feather Falls

It all began at nine in the morning. My friend Hooper and I had been talking about hiking to Feather Falls for three months, but our schedules kept conflicting. Finally the day arrived, a clear crisp Saturday, we were ready. We had water, walking stick, sandwiches, emergency chocolate, knife (in case of bears), boots, coats, sweaters, all in all, about twenty five pounds of equipment.

I had driven past the Feather Falls Scenic Trails Road for two years so I knew exactly where to go. We turned down the small two lane road and drove to the Feather Falls parking lot. It was beautiful with tall trees and a rustic out house. I thought, yes, the adventure begins.

There are two trails into the falls. The lower trail is 4 miles over rough ground. The upper trail is five miles over a less rugged path. We took the low road.

The first two miles were enjoyable, but I began to notice that there wasn’t any wildlife in the area, not even squirrels. It was cold but by mile three I began removing cloths and doubting my intelligence for presuming I could ‘hike’ in the first place. I realized that the reason there wasn’t any wildlife was because the area was too rough even for animals, only humans put themselves in the wilderness for no good reason.

I walked awhile more, and my heart began a chaotic beat somewhere between clog dancing and cardiac arrest. This caused me a little concern. What was I going to do, call a cab? So I continued.

My companion, a man who is married to a treadmill, kept assuring me that the falls were, “just around the corner”. Unfortunately the corner was located half way up the mountain.

My legs began to throb. They seemed to pulse with the beat of my heart. Then perspiration began dripping down my forehead, depositing my high salt diet’s excretions into my burning eyes. Small gnats began flying toward me, presumably hoping to beat the blow flies that were sure to follow.

We climbed the small trail past Bald Rock Dome which the Native Americans are said to revere. I decided to pray too, but an escalator didn’t appear. Over rocks and broken ground, we traveled. It wasn’t pretty, but I made it, legs shaking, heart spasming. We wound our way over the trail on the sheer face of the mountain. It was cold and windy. Feather Falls was in its full splendor, but all I wanted was, food and/or a helicopter. We went back down the trail a bit and ate a sandwich on a bench overlooking the falls.

We rested and then the realization struck home. I had to walk back! Old Mr. Fitness decided we had better take the easy trail back. Easy is a relative term. The upper route was 1.5 miles longer then the lower trail with long level stretches and long gradual up-grades. He kept telling me there were no more uphill sections. I stopped believing him after the fifth broken promise. I still haven’t been able to figure out how we moved uphill going and uphill coming back and still wound up at the parking lot. It was like ‘Deliverance’ without the banjos. The last thing I can remember was the site of my sweet red Jeep waiting to take me home.

My sister and grandson visited the day after the hike and they had a wonderful time commenting about my funny walk. It was a painful stiff legged gate involving as little knee movement as was humanly possible.

I still have the occasional painful twitch in my legs, but I’m relatively healed now. At least I don’t need a stress test at the doctors. If this hike didn’t kill me, nothing well.