“Distance changes utterly when you take the world on foot. Life takes on a neat simplicity, too. Time ceases to have any meaning. It’s quite wonderful, really.” Bill Bryson, author of A Walk in the Woods.
“The Average American Spends Over 10 Hours a Day Staring at Screens” said the CNN headline I read on my iPhone while waiting in line at Scout Coffee. Up to that moment it had not occurred to me to classify the phone, computer, TV, & iPad into one category; ‘Screen’. I wanted to burn my precious devises in protest and head for the hills! Instead, I sat down with my cappuccino, opened my laptop, and started Googling ‘remote adventures’, ‘long walks through the wilderness’, ‘hikes through the mountains’. After hours of online research, I settled on hiking the Haute Route; a 120-mile trek between Chamonix France and Zermatt Switzerland. National Geographic ranks it as one of the 20 best hikes in the world. The route is safe, entirely non-technical, requires no ropes, crampons, and while challenging because of its daily elevation gains and distances, it’s achievable by any hiker in reasonably good shape.
One month later, my fellow screen addict and I we’re starting our first day of hiking the Haute Route, beginning in Zermatt on our way to hike through the greatest concentration of 4,000-meter peaks in the Alps.
I must first point out; the Alps are not like our California Mountains. They come at you from all sides and angles; they loom over you, and make you feel like a small, powerless being. They are diverse, both in weather and landscape. Staring up at them, knowing that we’d be delving into them over the next 8 days is a humbling and profound experience.
20 miles into the first day, I started questioning my belief that weekly hikes up San Luis Mountain were proper training for hiking the Alps with a 35 pound pack strapped to my back. We had passed through spacious woodlands, bustling streams, high pastures, and delved into a stony wilderness, all in just the first day. As we slowly shuffled up the last ascent of the day, I clung desperately to the tiny religious shrines that sporadically lined the single-track path up the mountain, as if they were strategically placed at the top of each very steep pitch.
The sun was setting just as we reached the small village at top of the trail. We quickly discovered a large pond and grassy knoll to set up camp beside. As achy and tired as we were, we were even more desperate for some Swiss wine to pair with our feast of dehydrated chicken curry, turkey jerky and chocolate/peanut butter cliff bars. We discovered a tiny hamlet, flush with Swiss wine & German beer.. Prost! We ate and drank like kings at our camp, retelling stories of our adventurous day, and then retiring early to our tent. Sleep came quickly after 10 hours of hiking. Sunrise came even faster.
And so began the morning ritual of hoisting my 35lb backpack. The pack is always heaviest in the morning, because it’s full of a day’s supply of water. As our journey progressed, we passed a myriad of hikers from all over the world, each time making eye contact and greeting us with ‘Bon Jour, Buenos Dias, Guten Tag, Salaam, Ciao, Good Morning’. I thought about all the people I pass on a daily basis, staring down at our iPhones as we walk from place to place. Aside from that, why did all of these hikers have much smaller packs then ours? At first I thought they were day hiking a different route, as Switzerland boasts over 37,000 miles of official hiking trails throughout the country, many of which are in the Alps. But on the 8th hour into what the Swiss hiking signs indicated as a 6-hour day, I started plotting how to lighten my pack by changing from camping to mountain hutting.
Weight of the pack aside, the Swiss are world famous for being fit and healthy; many of the Swiss hikers we met on the trail were over 70 years old. Hiking is as much their culture as Swiss chocolates and cheese. Have screens become American’s culture?
The next day included bouldering over our 3rd 9,000 foot pass. My knees and spirit were exhausted, and I found myself singing an odd rendition of Edelweiss to keep my mind off the terrain in front of me. I misjudged one of the rocks, lost my balance, and was thrown backwards by the weight of my heavy pack. Although it cushioned what could have been a painful fall, my pack became firmly wedged between two small boulders. There I was, stuck in the middle of a massive rock pile, with my legs, arms, and hiking sticks flailing in the air, like a turtle turned on its shell. No matter how much I wriggled and jerked, I could not set myself free.. A group of French hikers finally noticed my distress and as they were rushing to assist, I broke free of the rocks and hobbled my way back to my feet. Angry with both my headphone clad hiking partner for not hearing my squeals for help and myself for having a ridiculously heavy pack, we decided to ditch the camping theme of the trip and opt for the comforts of the Cabane.
Cabanes are the Swiss word for hostel or dormitory. Most have large sleeping rooms that house 20-30 guests. Each guests is provided with a sleeping pad, small pillow and wool blanket. Guests pay between $60-$150 per person per night including dinner and breakfast. Communal bathrooms and showers are standard, as are family style dinners. Having stayed in plenty of hostels, I found them quite comforting, like going home for Thanksgiving, but my hiking partner, had never slept in a communal room and found the whole experience a bit disturbing, at the very least, undesirable.
Some Cabanes were settled in small towns, others were perched on a hillside, or nestled in a valley at the bottom of a steep descent. Although unique in structure and landscape, each was filled with a similar cast of characters from all over the world; hikers wearing zip away pants, hikers reading guide books, hikers clinging to their Nalgene’s, hikers sharing stories of adventures in different languages. Despite all the different religions, philosophies, and beliefs, gathered around the table each night, we were all united in our common mission to walk the Alps. Our complicated lives had become simple. When the sun rises, we wake up, eat breakfast, and begin to walk. When it sets, we shower (iflucky), eat dinner, and go to sleep. And in between is the sole task of putting one foot in front of the other. There are no task lists, or calls to make. No cell service, or Wi-Fi. Our only connections are those around us.
The farther into the Alps we delved, the landscape changed from pastures and boulders to snow and shale. Each day offered a different shade of nature. As if all of its various facets were laid out for us to explore; lakes, rocks, woods, snow, rain, sunshine, wind. The Alps served up a kaleidoscope of natural beauty that leaves its visitors in awe.
By the end of our adventure, I not only had a much lowered bar to enjoyment: Nescafé became invigorating, a ham and cheese sandwich was divine, sleeping on a floor pad felt like heaven and a $10 bottle of red wine was a treat.
I also felt inspired to trade just 2 of those 10 hours a day normally spent on my screen, to just being outdoors. San Luis Obispo County, with its vast open spaces, captivating peaks, and miles of hiking trails, should easily trump staring at a screen. So lets put down our devises, and head for our hills.