Before you read another hiking horror story, read this

YoIn my years on The Trek, I’ve noticed a trend that’s common in most media contexts: stories with a negative frame often tend to do better. The top 10 mistakes to avoid when walking. My biggest regrets from my hike on the Appalachian Trail. All kinds of depressing news. You get the picture.

It makes sense, of course. Most of us already agree that backpacking is fun and worth it. What many hikers really want to know is what could go wrong and how to avoid it. Stories involving conflict and mishaps are entertaining, relatable, and genuinely helpful.

Still, I worry that leaning too far toward those negative angles could distort newcomers’ impressions of the trail. Hiking isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, but it’s also not an endless slog of thigh irritations and torrential downpours.

That’s why today I want to take a break from discussions about Type II fun, «suffer parties,» and all my various hiking-related mistakes and regrets (of which there are many). Instead, I’d like to highlight some of my favorite hiking memories: the moments that were genuinely enjoyable, inspiring, and fun.

Long after my calluses have softened and I’ve gotten used to sleeping in a real bed again, these are the trail memories I love to revisit, the ones that keep me coming back again and again for longer hikes.

1. Accidentally capturing the Perseid meteor shower above the treeline on the Colorado Trail

I’ve written before that the CT wasn’t my favorite hike, but this early morning on the Continental Divide north of Silverton stands out as one of my most magical hiking memories of all time.

I was camping above the tree line in the middle of a long alpine traverse and, eager to have a great day and get to Silverton, my hiking partner and I woke up hours before dawn for an early start. When I left to pack up the tent, it didn’t take me long to notice that literally dozens of shooting stars were passing overhead. I had completely forgotten about the Perseid meteor shower until that point, and the alpine onset that morning almost coincided with the peak of the event.

Far from the nearest source of light pollution and without a single tree in sight to obscure the view, we couldn’t have picked a better time or place to see it if we had planned for it. We paused all the packing activities and spent almost an hour drinking hot chocolate and gazing at the stars. We would be late arriving in Silverton, but the 40 or so shooting stars I counted were worth it.

2. See the sunrise over the Mediterranean on the High Route of the Pyrenees

The High Route of the Pyrenees crosses the French-Spanish border from the Atlantic to the Mediterranean and is my favorite hike of all time. One of the last big mountains on that hike is called Canigó, and its summit, a relatively short side mission from the main trail, is the first place eastbound hikers can see the Mediterranean.

My tram camped at the base of the mountain and climbed with headlamp to watch the sunrise at the top. It was a difficult hike in the dark, involving some very steep rock climbing, but also quite fun, and the perfect sunrise at the top made it all worth it. At that early hour, we had the normally crowded summit to ourselves.

I did a lot of soul searching during this hike and by the time we reached the top of Canigó I had come to the conclusion that I needed to make some pretty big changes in my life as soon as the hike was over. Being at the top literally at the dawn of a new day, with a perfect view of the sandy beaches where my trip would end, seemed like an absurdly obvious metaphor for my life at the time.

That morning was equal parts euphoric, terrifying, and bittersweet; I wouldn’t exactly describe it as “unremarkable,” but it was certainly memorable and undeniably positive.

3. Camp below Knapsack Col on the Upper Wind River Trail

The Wind River High Route was my first big off-trail adventure, something I had always dreamed of doing (even longer than I had dreamed of a big hike like the Appalachian Trail).

The first day of the route is just going up into the high mountains, so you actually spend most of your time following a groomed trail. But then there comes a moment when you turn sharply to the left, leaving the world of civilized backpacking behind. Once you get over your first trailless pass, Cube Rock Pass, the whole “high route” thing really starts to feel real.

In my case, my group and I camped near a lake between Cube Rock Pass and the WRHR’s second major pass, Knapsack Col. Quite a few people actually hike up and over Knapsack Col, despite the lack of an official trail (it’s even a popular alternative on the CDT), and there are a few cairns marking the easiest way up.

Still, that first night camping in the shadow of the hill was exhilarating. Years after completing the AT, I had a feeling similar to the one I had when I started chasing white llamas: like I was at the beginning of an adventure unlike anything I’d ever done before and I was about to find out if I was up to it.

It didn’t hurt that the Winds are an exceptionally dramatic range, and the stark beauty of our camp only heightened my sense of an epic adventure in the making.

4. Sitting on a random rock on the AT eating a chocolate cake alone in the cold

It wasn’t even a particularly scenic section of the AT in Virginia, but even the most mundane sections of the green tunnel have their own quiet grace.

The moments I described above were very dramatic, but equally sweet in my memory was this completely mundane moment at the beginning of my first hike, the Appalachian Trail. Readers, there will never be anything like your first hike, so if that’s still in your future, be sure to savor it when you get there.

When I think about this day at the beginning of my hike, I don’t think about the loneliness or the cold weather, the viewless landscape, or that I don’t even like Pop-Tarts that much. Instead, I remember how novel it still felt back then to have such perfect freedom. I think about the confidence I was gaining as I slowly progressed and the ease I felt with my life.

It’s a random memory, but this was one of the moments when I felt most intensely what a gift it was to be able to hike.

And the list goes on

I could list many more equally glorious memories from my years of hiking: swimming in beautiful lakes on scorching hot days, unexpectedly meeting an entire group of hiking friends in a cabin in the Pyrenees whom I had never expected to see again, several indulgent meals in the town of trails whose quality was multiplied by my voracious hiking hunger.

Yes, there will be many times on the trail when walking will not be fun at all, where you will have to dig deep and “embrace the suck” to keep moving forward.

But it’s not always so difficult. Sometimes hiking is surprisingly and wonderfully easy. Savor those moments, and when a storm front arrives and your thinking begins to deteriorate, trust that the sun will rise again.

Cover image: Graphic design by Mackenzie Fisher.