Filling My Senses
Sam has been gone for 6 years. Ben for three weeks. My goal is to be more social and to avoid at all costs, hiding in my house eating cereal for all three meals and watching TV non stop. This weekend I signed up for a ADK hike on Saturday and a group kayak on Sunday. Mother Nature messed up my plans for today and with the Men's US Open Tennis Semifinals on TV all afternoon, my ass will surely find the recliner. The good news is, I have no cereal in the house.
The hike I planned for today was moderately long (10 or so miles round trip), but not steep. After doing several High Peaks recently I was looking forward to something involving less......suffering. I can hear you all, why hike if you suffer? Because when I hike, it awakens all my senses and mostly, because I can.
There are five basic senses, all part of what makes us experience the world fully. The second I enter the woods, the scent of earth, pine needles, mud, water, and animals fill my head. It is the first thing I notice and it takes me by the hand and leads me on the path to peace. I just want to suck it in as deep as possible and inflate my lungs with pure Adirondack air.
On a good day, I hear nothing but the crackle of sticks and the crunching of leaves under my feet, the moaning of trees swaying in the wind, my breathing (panting) and the scurrying of little critters racing through the woods. Two weeks ago on a steep section up Gothics, I sat down to catch my breath in the hot humid air. From the distance I could hear the breeze coming in like a wave until it finally got to me, sitting on a rock with my eyes closed, sweaty face tilted up to the sun embracing the smell, sound and feel as it finally hit me. On other days I hear the chatter of people enjoying the hike as much as me and sharing experiences and pleasantries is just part of the fun.
The sense of touch is an ironic, sometimes icky, but always present, but not always appreciated part of hiking. There is nothing like reaching for a branch, tree or rock to pull yourself up and find that you have put your hand on a slug, or losing your balance and grabbing a sharp point on a branch, or best yet putting any part of your body in the thick gooey black mud. But there is also no better feeling than the rock under your hands as you scramble up a slide, or the solid feeling under your feet when you reach the peak and know you are on top of the world.
Mud and dirt is all all part of a good hike. You can even taste it as it becomes part of your sandwich from your dirty hands, the cap of your water bottle and the apple you laid down for just a second. It becomes part of the crunch of your snack. The delight of clean tasting, cold water is pure heaven on the trail. But my taste buds really come alive and sing with joy from the pizza at DeCesare's in Schroon Lake, Stewart's Raspberry Fudge Torte Frozen Yogurt, and I swear nothing has ever tasted better the the french toast and ham at the Noonmark Cafe after finishing Gothics and Armstrong two weeks ago. It could be that my body is depleted after hiking, but it doesn't matter. Have you ever been on a hike when eventually the conversation or your thoughts have not been about food toward the end?
And finally sight..... The most obvious of senses enriched by a trip up a mountain.
The hike I planned for today was moderately long (10 or so miles round trip), but not steep. After doing several High Peaks recently I was looking forward to something involving less......suffering. I can hear you all, why hike if you suffer? Because when I hike, it awakens all my senses and mostly, because I can.
There are five basic senses, all part of what makes us experience the world fully. The second I enter the woods, the scent of earth, pine needles, mud, water, and animals fill my head. It is the first thing I notice and it takes me by the hand and leads me on the path to peace. I just want to suck it in as deep as possible and inflate my lungs with pure Adirondack air.
On a good day, I hear nothing but the crackle of sticks and the crunching of leaves under my feet, the moaning of trees swaying in the wind, my breathing (panting) and the scurrying of little critters racing through the woods. Two weeks ago on a steep section up Gothics, I sat down to catch my breath in the hot humid air. From the distance I could hear the breeze coming in like a wave until it finally got to me, sitting on a rock with my eyes closed, sweaty face tilted up to the sun embracing the smell, sound and feel as it finally hit me. On other days I hear the chatter of people enjoying the hike as much as me and sharing experiences and pleasantries is just part of the fun.
The sense of touch is an ironic, sometimes icky, but always present, but not always appreciated part of hiking. There is nothing like reaching for a branch, tree or rock to pull yourself up and find that you have put your hand on a slug, or losing your balance and grabbing a sharp point on a branch, or best yet putting any part of your body in the thick gooey black mud. But there is also no better feeling than the rock under your hands as you scramble up a slide, or the solid feeling under your feet when you reach the peak and know you are on top of the world.
Mud and dirt is all all part of a good hike. You can even taste it as it becomes part of your sandwich from your dirty hands, the cap of your water bottle and the apple you laid down for just a second. It becomes part of the crunch of your snack. The delight of clean tasting, cold water is pure heaven on the trail. But my taste buds really come alive and sing with joy from the pizza at DeCesare's in Schroon Lake, Stewart's Raspberry Fudge Torte Frozen Yogurt, and I swear nothing has ever tasted better the the french toast and ham at the Noonmark Cafe after finishing Gothics and Armstrong two weeks ago. It could be that my body is depleted after hiking, but it doesn't matter. Have you ever been on a hike when eventually the conversation or your thoughts have not been about food toward the end?
And finally sight..... The most obvious of senses enriched by a trip up a mountain.
There are no words to describe the sights from the top of a mountain or the the things I have seen on the trail. The beauty is everywhere, from the ground you walk on to the trees and rocks that you pass and finally to the sky above you.
To fill my senses and soak it all in........ The joy is endless.
"Mountains are not the stadiums where I satisfy my ambition to achieve, they are the cathedrals where I practice my religion." Anatoli Boukreev
Comments
Post a Comment