Comparison is the thief of joy: long-distance hiking in Europe and the US.

The familiar phrase in the title reminds me that comparing one adventure to another often takes away from the wonder of both. Hiking, and especially long-distance hiking, is an extraordinarily multifaceted experience. Comparing routes or experiences on different continents risks flattening the many layers of landscapes, cultures, climates and miracles found along the way. However, I guess the human brain is programmed to try to make comparisons.

Crossing the United States on the CDT NoBo

The Continental Divide Trail (CDT) runs approximately 5,000 km through the spine of the United States. Beginning in New Mexico in early spring, the journey begins amid spectacular desert landscapes, where mesas and deep canyons meet a bouquet of desert wildflowers making their first attempts to leave winter behind. The warmth of early spring in the desert signals the beginning of regrowth; Awakening the majesty of nature already in April! As the trail ascends into Colorado, the terrain transforms into a higher endeavor: the iconic Rocky Mountains. Here, towering peaks, alpine meadows and snowmelt-fed streams create an environment very similar to the home I chose in Switzerland. Late spring and early summer bring life and activity, with waterfalls and abundant wildlife making every step a discovery, if snow cover allows for an early-year traverse. Hikers sometimes find themselves navigating steep terrain with accumulations of late winter snow. The weather here can change quickly, requiring respect for the mountainous environment.

Once in Wyoming, the landscape slowly opens up to high plains and forested foothills. The transition, often experienced by hikers in mid-summer, reveals expansive views dotted with only the hardiest of scattered grasses and shrubs. Quite unknown landscapes for someone who lives in central Europe. In Idaho and Montana, experienced by NoBos as the season shifts toward fall, the forests eventually glow with fall colors of red, gold, and orange. The terrain becomes more varied, from dense forests and meandering rivers to high mountain passes in the Wind River Range, which are hopefully not yet covered by next winter’s first snows.

Crossing Europe NoBo

Let us now imagine trips across Europe that cover a comparable distance and yet challenge hikers in very different ways. Although there is a more or less established network of trails (see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/European_long-distance_paths) I want you to imagine a south-north route from Athens in Greece to Hammerfest in Norway, roughly following the E6/E1 from the southeastern edges of Europe to the far north.

This imagined route stretches from the sunny streets of Athens to the rugged landscapes of northern Scandinavia. In Greece, the trail begins in dry, arid terrain where sparse, hardy vegetation recalls ancient history. Some trees have existed even before Jesus, presumably, walked the earth. Crossing into Serbia, the landscape opens up to gentle hills where cultivated fields and natural grasslands create a measured contrast with the beginning of the Mediterranean. Upon entering Croatia, the terrain changes to hills, occasional forests and river valleys. Finally, in Slovenia, where the Balkans end, the road ascends to moderate elevations that mark the beginning of the alpine journey ahead.

Resupplying on the Via Alpina takes you to strange places.

Leaving Triglav National Park, the road heads into the Austrian Alps, where the Alps reveal mountains soaked in the blood of millions of people who died here during the world wars. The trails built for soldiers today connect cultures rather than separate them and leave hope that perhaps there is something like a collective learning of history. Crossing into Bavaria, the terrain softens again: the Alpine influence merges with wide, gentle hills, interspersed with dense forests and cultivated land (and endless breweries!). Once the route enters eastern Germany, the geography is further transformed: scattered fields and forests dominate and the recent history of a country and a people divided in half by the political whims of the time still resonates. Finally, as you approach Rostock, near the Baltic coast, the terrain levels out into a seascape shaken by storms at any time of the year.

In Denmark, the coastal views continue. As the trail leads north, it crosses into the forested expanses of Sweden, where hordes of mosquitoes accompany the long sunny days approaching the Arctic Circle. Once in Norway, the terrain transforms dramatically. Steep fjords and steep mountain slopes alternate with waterfalls and mist-covered valleys. Closer to Hammerfest, the air becomes crisp, even in late summer, and the land takes on a stark, arctic character before finally reaching the end, on the arctic coast.

Both hikes include walks through varied and changing landscapes that change with the passing of the seasons. Trying to compare experiences of this complexity seems pointless to me, however, there are some things that – at least during my preparation for the trip – have stood out as objectively different.

What makes these environments different?

Population density plays a big role in shaping the long-distance hiking experience, and a comparison between the CDT and Central Europe results in two distinctly different trips.

In the CDT, hikers traverse vast, nearly pristine landscapes where population density can be as low as 0.5 to 2 people per km², well below the US national average of about 36 people per km². This scarce human presence for many leads to a deep feeling of loneliness and brings with it a particular series of challenges. Isolation means that potential resupply points and emergency services are few and far between (often 150 kilometers or more), which in turn requires more detailed planning, a high level of self-sufficiency and redundant, pre-planned emergency protocols.

In contrast, most regions in Central Europe generally enjoy higher population densities, ranging between 100 and 200 people per km. For hikers, this means easier access to supporting infrastructure along the trail, as well as more frequent opportunities for social interactions and logistical support along the trail.

Even if you feel alone in the Alps, civilization is never far away: here Chamonix.

Together, these factors illustrate how the physical and human geography of an area directly influences the hiking experience. While the CDT offers the opportunity to experience somewhat tranquil nature amidst great solitude, Central Europe offers a mix of rich, culturally imprinted landscape and social encounters that support a more connected and logistically easier journey.

When comparing wildlife encounters On the Continental Divide Trail (CDT) with those on our imagined European journey, the differences in fauna and cultural expectations are stark.

In the CDT, the untamed landscapes of the central US bring you face to face with animals like grizzly bears, black bears, and mountain lions. In warmer southern areas, venomous rattlesnakes require special attention, while encounters with North American spiders, such as the black widow and brown recluse, require heightened awareness. Combined with ticks and mosquitoes capable of transmitting Lyme disease, these factors require additional precaution largely unknown in Europe. It’s not uncommon to hear Americans wonder if they should carry a gun for protection on this rugged trail (don’t worry, the general consensus seems to be: no, bear spray is more important!).

However, from a European perspective, the idea of ​​carrying a firearm on a hiking trail seems quite strange. In many parts of Europe, wildlife poses a different set of challenges: encounters commonly involve deer, fox, badger, wild boar and, with an incredible amount of luck, a reintroduced wolf. All those animals generally avoid human contact and, if encountered, are mostly harmless (except stumbling upon a mother wild boar with her cubs: run or better climb!). The comparatively minor risks from megafauna, local insects, and spiders, along with easy access to nearby towns and medical care, contribute to a hiking culture in which the main goal of self-defense is dodging occasionally irritated cows.

Dangerous megafauna in the Slovenian Alps: save your snacks!

Comparing the CDT to the Via Alpina route from Trieste to Chamonix, a 2000km hike I did in 2022, reveals stark differences in trail structure, shelter options, and navigation demands.

In the CDT, the vast open wilderness means that trails are often less defined and marked by natural features than by man-made signs. Shelters are few or non-existent and typically consist of backcountry camps or shelters where hikers must pitch their own tents, snail style! As a result, navigating the CDT requires a high degree of self-sufficiency. Mastering the use of topographic maps, compasses, and GPS devices is essential, as the sparse trail markings combined with the longer distances leave little room for error or detours.

Even in the most remote places you can find a cozy refuge.

In contrast, the Via Alpina offers a more structured and supportive environment. Although the trail often seems remote, you are never actually In fact far from civilization. Along this route, I experienced a well-developed network of clearly marked trails maintained by local organizations and hiking associations. Mountain huts, known locally as refuges or rifugi, provided reliable shelter, meals, and crucial information about weather and trail conditions. I carried my tent most of the way, but camping presents its own challenges as it is often prohibited or requires special permits. The concept of uncultivated public land is not widely used in countries that have lived on and used these lands extensively for millennia. The infrastructure not only improved safety and comfort, but also reduced navigation challenges. While basic navigation skills are still important, it is not impossible, but quite difficult, to get lost hiking in the Alps. I know the statistics don’t agree, but I speak for experienced hikers 😉

Overall, the CDT IMHO requires more rigorous self-sufficiency and great navigational acumen, while the Via Alpina from Trieste to Chamonix challenges the hiker with a brutal puzzle profile but rewards them with excellent infrastructure, if necessary.