Just days after the world was almost brought to a standstill due to a single technology glitch, I had the opportunity to head into the Sequoia National Park to drop off my son and three buddies who were embarking on an eight-day backpacking trip called the High Sierras Trail (HST). This trek runs 70 miles across the entire park and culminates at Mt. Whitney, the highest mountain in the contiguous United States at more than 14,000 feet.
It’s a six-hour drive from our house to get to Crescent Meadow, the start of the trail already deep in the park. So I was to hike in with them a few miles, camp the first night, and then hike out in the morning while they continued on. I had been looking forward to the trip as a welcome break from my work pressures the previous few weeks and months.
I didn’t want to derail my son’s plans so after a couple of unavoidable meetings, I turned off my computer and spent the afternoon on the couch. Lots of vitamin C and D, zinc, quercetin, and chicken broth. I’d already pulled out the backpacking gear so had everything ready by the front door that night heading to bed early.
The day started at 4:45 a.m. The three buddies showed up at our house and we were pulling away shortly after 5 a.
m. I was in a bit of a daze, to be honest, but focused solely on driving while my son navigated and the other boys napped. After picking up our permit at Lodgepole campground, we did a bit of the touristy walks around the giant sequoias and then headed to the HST trailhead.
I can’t say I was full of energy but being out in nature is like a complete blood transfusion to me. Just 15 minutes into the HST and the scenery is breathtaking. You realize how small us humans are and how insignificant compared to all that nature provides and sustains.
From the diversity of the forest floor to the rocks, trees, and mountains beyond I was instantly transported to a time before technology—when life was simpler, slower, and we implicitly understood our place in this universe. Man does not control this world. Our reliance on technology has gotten seriously out of hand.
Our pace of life is not what God intended. There was a lot of huffing and puffing and I had to just focus on putting one foot in front of the other which meant my thoughts couldn’t wander to what I was not getting done at my desk. Our destination for the night was called Buck Creek and had amazing views of the Sierra Nevada mountains and a large amount of running water, manzanitas, and wildflowers of all different shapes, sizes, and colors.
We ate backpacking food in the open air, had a small campfire in a little pit provided by the rangers, and were tucked up in our tents before it even got dark. The next morning we watched the sun rise over the mountains as we ate breakfast, packed up, and re-filled our water bottles. I said goodbye to my son as we went our separate ways and he and his buddies continued on their trek.
I watched them hiking off into the distance before turning around and heading back down to the trailhead. That five miles of solo hiking in some of the most beautiful scenery on earth did more for my mental health than any number of therapy sessions. But God had more in store for me.
As I rounded a corner of the very narrow trail cut into the mountain I saw a mama bear and her bear cub ambling along towards me. I darted back a few feet and scrambled up the mountainside a little to get off the trail. I held my breath trying to remember any advice the rangers had given us.
As she came around the corner she looked directly at me, then down the hillside, and then at her cub. She was clearly as unsettled by my appearance as I was of her. But she didn’t get aggressive—perhaps recognizing me as another mama who had left her own bear cub two miles back.
The little cub scrambled up a tree on the down-slope in front of me and hung out at least 20 feet in the air complaining to his mom. She eventually just continued on her journey. It wasn’t until I started out on my journey again going a little bit further along the trail that the cub came down from his tree and stood there and watched me for a while.
It was quite magical. I had to turn to leave before he went off to follow his mom. My heart was pounding somewhat but I felt God was just showing me what was important in life and more than a day later as I write this, the sensation hasn’t left me.
My to-do list hasn’t got any shorter but I feel more at peace than I have in a long time. And that cold virus that was trying to take me down? Completely evaporated. Even with all the physical exertion of those two days, the fresh air and natural beauty healed me.
It’s never too late to start: Hiking is not just a young person’s activity. We met 80-year-old Mark at our campsite who does a multi-day solo trip every year. Do your research: Use resources like the app All Trails to find hikes close to your home or in a particular location.
Read the reviews, the recent conditions, and the difficulty level to make sure you are up to it. Start small: A walk in a local park can gradually build to a two-mile hike in a wilderness area then a half-day trek, up to a full-day excursion needing multiple meals along the way. Equipment: The only equipment you need to start with is a sturdy pair of walking shoes.
You can pick up a second-hand pair quite cheaply to see if you enjoy the activity. A water bottle of some kind is also a must. Dirt and bugs are part of the experience: If this puts you off I’d suggest a desensitization cure—just go out and do it.
I promise the memories and the mental health boost will far exceed any temporary discomfort. Check the weather and dress accordingly: As the British often say—there is no bad weather, only bad clothing! Look into accessible options for those who cannot walk or need assistance. Many national and local parks have gone to great lengths to make nature and amazing views accessible to all.
.
