Swinging in the Lane

And like Billy Bray I go my way, in and out of Shadow Creek, dancing, in a daze, to the twin silver trumpets of praise.

Annie Dillard in Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

In my early twenties when I first started backpacking alone I got into the habit of tucking my thumbs underneath the shoulder straps of my pack and hiked that way all the time. It felt unnatural to hike with my hands in any other position. I think it slightly relieved the weight of the heavy pack on my shoulders.

Whatever the reason I did not change this position until well into my sixties when I started using hiking poles. I resisted the innovation for a long time. When I first saw them in use on a long day hike I asked the woman why she used them. She replied glibly, “They help me to walk better.” This did not seem like a suitable explanation. I remained a skeptic. I had been walking just fine on two legs since l took my first steps as an infant. Those two strong legs had served me just fine and had carried me across miles and miles of the Olympics, the North Cascades, the Bighorns and Wind River Mountains, the deserts of the southwest. All of those miles had been achieved with my thumbs tucked firmly under my shoulder straps.

When I retired and began to train for long distance hikes, a friend of mine who is a retired physical therapist encouraged me to give poles a try, arguing that I would feel less tired as the weight is distributed over four points instead of two. I bought an inexpensive pair before taking an early season trip in the Olympics, where I used them to probe snow covered trails in the high country. I enjoyed a degree of safety I had not previously experienced in such trail conditions. I had switched to an ultra-lite pack by then. The need to relieve the weight on my shoulders became less important. I have been using hiking poles ever since, including on most day hikes.

The exception is when I hike on the Rail Trail near my home. It is an easy jaunt by the lake. I often see two loons who watch me as I walk. I never carry a pack as I am not far from home, and I swing my arms with ease. The act seems to propel me along the trail. Reportedly it improves energy efficiency and stability. Then there’s this. It just feels good. If you question this try keeping your arms stiffly by your side as you walk. You will find it to be quite uncomfortable. I find that I tend to lean slightly forward as I do it, as if I am about to topple.

It seems as though our bodies are made to walk and for good reason. Most of us figure out how to do it within the first couple of years of life. It is our primary means of locomotion. My mother often bragged about how I started walking at just eight months. Of course I did. I had a lot of hiking to do.

Now in my seventies, I continue to walk almost everyday. If it is snowing and cold outside, or the path is icy, I use a treadmill indoors. It is my primary form of exercise, and of course I swing my arms whether I am on the treadmill or on the path. There is joy to be found in this simple act, on this beautiful path. Trust me on this. I have been doing it for seventy-six years.