Some would say it’s ironic that humans have turned physical exertion into a scheduled activity in life instead of a standard for survival, but I think it’s a beautiful thing that exercise is now an option instead of a necessity.
Hiking is one particularly beautiful activity that takes us back to our roots and allows us to surround ourselves with the nature from which we arose. Some would scoff at the idea of swatting mosquitoes sweating buckets across uneven terrain, at risk of rain and being chased by monkeys.
Hiking is actually a rare chance for us to behold nature in its glory, largely as it should be in its mostly untouched and unpolluted state; a chance for us to escape from the hustle and bustle of everyday life and delight in the lush greenness of the land. At least I would hope your local hiking trails are still green.
Most of our other activities have been converted into some form of commercialised concrete complex, from indoor courts to glassed gyms to rooftop swimming pools. Most of the time you barely get natural sunlight, let alone any foliage or fauna to disturb your high intensity treadmill rhythm.
And why do we need any of that hogwash?
This is normally where one would cite the scientific findings of the positive effects of exposure to sunlight, green natural environments and petting furry animals (or whichever furries you like) on developing humans and adult stress levels and all that. But this is no normal citational exercise.
We need it because we cannot escape what we are, and that is a part of this world that our ancestors before us have spent endless eons learning to coexist with.
Why do we deny our very heritage? Why do we despise our birthright?
We have become so intoxicated with cleanliness and elevating ourselves above the earth and dirt, with paving over the icky sticky and disinfecting every aspect of our lives, that we have lost touch with part of what makes us living Terran organisms.
Both inside and out, we require a connection with our planet, a bond that is tougher to break than a mother and her child. Hiking brings us that much closer to what we once were, giving us a glimpse into our true nature.
Of course, most of the jungle is uncomfortable and hostile, partly because we have long been estranged from it, and thus we have grown apart and diverged. Still, the lifeforce that feeds the trees feeds us too, and although we claim to have tamed the land and its inhabitants, the violent hostile survival instincts that allowed us to reach this stage surge and rollick within us still.
From the birds and bees and trees to the microbes in the soil, perhaps we have foregone some potential links and symbiotic relationships with our fellow citizens of planet earth in our quest to explore and escape the toils of our forefathers. Will our guts ever be the same? Will our bodies cease to evolve and develop now that our brains have become our most dominant facet?
H.G. Wells foresaw the future of evolution where the smartest organisms had become brains with flexible boneless limbs that directly imbibed nutrient gel and ambulated on tireless cybernetic limbs, doing away with pointless digestive tracts and rickety sinews and joints.
Is this what we are to become?
Is that the pinnacle of our evolution?
While we still have limbs, let us revel in our world and let the greenery and fresh air inspire us. Our bodies are not a burden to beat and starve, but a special marvel of natural innovation and sheer improbable atomic banging that resulted in these fleshy fingers pounding away at an array of square blocks that produce neat splotches on an electrical sheet of pixels.
Is that not the stuff of fantastical fiction?
These are the kind of things you think about when you go hiking.
– Mewhatma Gandhi
Or think about whatever you want.
Just remember to watch where you’re going.
When you go hiking.
