Humans had to hike so we could hunt and gather food, so we could collect wood for fire and rocks to build shelter, so we could participate in our tribes’ great annual migrations. Hiking was critical to survival.

Today it appears hiking is inconsequential, strictly optional. But the opposite is true: Hiking is now more important than ever. The world needs more hikers, because hiking makes people better people.

Hiking Makes You More Creative

Anything that gets you outdoors—out of your home, your office, your car, out of your mundane routines, out of your fixation on trivial detail, out of the clutches of so-called news and shallow entertainment—makes you more creative. But most outdoor sports keep your conscious mind engaged. They can be thrilling, but they require you to fixate on technique and terrain, so they don’t let you go deep into yourself. You can’t hear your subconscious mind. Hiking, because it’s not a sport, allows you to mentally relax. Your subconscious mind becomes dominant. And the subconscious is your greatest source of problem-solving creativity.

Hiking Makes You Smarter

In a recent study, a large group of randomly selected people was given a task intended to exhaust their attention capacity. They were then divided into three groups for a 40 minute break. Group A went walking in a local nature preserve. Group B went walking in an urban environment. Group C sat quietly and read. 40 minutes later, they were all given identical proofreading tests. Group A, the nature walkers, did far better on the test. That’s because hiking both relaxes and stimulates the mind.

Hiking Makes You Healthier

It’s the perfect exercise: aerobic, low impact, inexpensive, gentle on the environment, viable at any age, so simple it requires no instruction. And hiking, because you do it in natural surroundings, is more than exercise. Hiking has the power to heal. Studies show that patients in hospital rooms with windows providing views of nature require less pain management and heal faster than do patients in rooms with windows overlooking parking lots. So you can imagine what a potent healing therapy it is to actually be in those natural surroundings, hiking through them.

Hiking Makes You Calmer

Hiking quickly makes you aware of your breath. You begin paying attention to the rhythm of your breathing. And breath awareness is an element of many forms of meditation. That’s why hiking balances and centers you, inducing clarity, focus and calm. Studies support this. Daily doses of “green time”— time spent outdoors in natural settings—alleviate symptoms of Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD).

Hiking Improves Your Love Life

Hike with your partner, and two things will happen. First, the locust-like swarm of details, obligations and responsibilities that typically keeps buzzing around you will not follow you up the trail. You and your partner will find your awareness returns to each other. You’ll begin enjoying each other more, relaxing into your love. Second, you’ll find hiking becomes shared adventure, which sharpens you and your partner’s sense of mutual purpose. It will bond you. It will galvanize your relationship.

Hiking Makes You a Better Friend

That enormous, infinite space, the great outdoors, that you enter when you go hiking? You can bring some of that space back with you, inside you. And you can offer it to others, in the form of openness, empathy, patience, compassion, simply being a better listener, all of which will make you a much better friend.

Hiking Makes You Happier

Hiking is fun. But the word fun doesn’t do it justice. When hiking, you’re admiring our planet’s grandest scenery, you’re exploring wild lands, you’re negotiating tumultuous terrain. It makes you feel intensely alive. It brings profound joy. Profound because it’s not just your joy you’re experiencing. It’s the pleasure of the infinite spirit.

Hiking Makes You More You

The excited conversation that begins at a trailhead when friends go hiking together gradually subsides into more personal, intimate talk. Sometimes that distills into discussion of loftier ideas, but it always slides into long periods of silence. So even if you always hike with friends, you often end up hiking alone. And if you can dive into that tranquility, if you can swim into that solitude, you’ll probe the depths of your soul. You’ll come away with a better understanding of who you really are and where you want to go in the larger journey of life.

wood tick

Nature is our home. Most hikers cling fervently to that truth. But when we suddenly find ourselves home to nature—as did an acquaintance who napped in a meadow and later discovered 17 ticks clinging to his skin—we’re alarmed and revolted.

If there’s a benefit to ticks, perhaps it’s their ability to remind us there really is no line—much as we often imagine—separating us from nature. Still, it’s understandable that we prefer to separate ourselves from ticks. Here’s how to do that.

Ticks are vile, insidious creatures, but slow and easily thwarted if you’re vigilant. In the Canadian Rockies, they’re active from April through mid-June.

Look at your pinky fingernail. Wood ticks are generally smaller than that. They have dark, reddish-brown bodies with eight legs. Their protruding mouths have barbs too small to see. Ticks are arachnids but lack the speed and seeming intelligence of spiders. They climb onto grass and shrubs. When an animal or a hiker brushes past, the tick slides off the vegetation and clings to its victim. It spends three or more hours crawling upward, searching for moist flesh. Upon choosing a drilling site, it secretes a kind of glue, then bites—painlessly, unnoticed—and begins sucking blood. It drops off when gorged.

A tick bite can cause Rocky Mountain spotted fever, Lyme disease, or tick paralysis. All are present but rare in B.C. and Alberta. So, contracting a tick-borne illness in the Canadian Rockies is possible.

Spotted fever is potentially fatal. Symptoms include fever, headache, chills, muscular pain, coughing, and a spreading rash. The primary symptom of Lyme disease is bull’s-eye skin lesions—circular red patches about two inches in diameter, with a clear centre. The lesions can appear anywhere, not necessarily near the tick bite. Symptoms of tick paralysis are numbness, drowsiness and loss of coordination, all of which can disappear soon after the tick is removed. If you suspect any of these maladies, see a doctor fast. With early detection, antibiotics are highly effective. But not all ticks carry disease. Even the carriers don’t transmit disease immediately upon biting; it takes hours.

Learn to recognize tick habitat. They thrive on sunny, grassy slopes below 2000 m (6560 ft), especially those frequented by large mammals such as deer, elk or bighorn sheep. To sprawl or even sit in ticky terrain is to offer yourself for dinner. Inspect your clothing and your body occasionally while hiking. Do it again thoroughly at day’s end. Ticks will favour your groin, armpits, neck and scalp but can bite almost anywhere. Ask a companion to check your head and back. If you’re hiking with a dog, inspect it as well. Dogs can transfer ticks to people and into your vehicle or home.

Finding and removing ticks before they bite is easy. If you discover one burrowed into your skin, the sooner you detach it, the safer you are. Let a doctor do this. If you attempt it yourself, forget about suffocating the tick with Vaseline, or burning its butt with a match. You’ll only make the tick regurgitate and defecate, increasing the likelihood of disease transmission. Don’t use normal tweezers; they’re too big and might crush the tick, spurting its gut contents into your wound. And don’t use your fingers, or you might contaminate whatever else you touch. If you do touch it, wash your hands afterward.

You want to remove the entire tick—mouth and all. Use fine-pointed sliver grippers, or a specialized tick-removal tool. Gently hold the tick by its mouth without grabbing or squeezing the body. Lightly, steadily, pull it directly back until your skin “tents.” Hold it there, perhaps several seconds, until the tick lets go. If its mouth breaks off and remains attached, pull it out like a splinter. Drop the tick into an empty film canister along with a damp scrap of paper to keep it hydrated, in case your doctor wants a laboratory analysis. Clean your tick removal tool. Wash your wound with soap and water, rub it with an antiseptic wipe, then bandage it. Record the date and time you were bitten. Monitor yourself for signs of disease.

You come to Zion National Park to see the world’s highest sandstone cliffs and to hike some of the most compelling trails in Utah canyon country. Another reason to come here is to relish what we believe is the most delicious Mexican food in North America.

Mexican food has long been our favourite. We’ve dined at hundreds of Mexican restaurants and tacquerias in Mexico, the U.S., and Canada. Years ago, we were thrilled to discover an excellent one in Galway, Ireland. Prior to heading south to Arizona in December, we were eager try as many new Mexican eateries as possible.

We probably hit about 18 of them. Most were merely okay. As a result, we became frequent patrons of the popular Chipotle chain, which serves hefty portions of what they call “food with integrity.” It’s delicious, nutritious, ethical, and a good value, but it does not qualify as authentic Mexican. It’s tame.

Most of the other Mexican restaurants we tried this winter were less than tame. They were bland. Their fare is intended to suit the typical, unadventurous, North American palate. We enjoyed a few, pleasing tamales and enchiladas, some filling burritos, but nothing exciting or memorable.

After working on our computers all day during a freak, April blizzard in Zion Canyon, at 9 p.m. we ventured out of the campground, into the adjacent town of Springdale, in search of a meal. The only “OPEN” sign we saw was at Casa de Amigos Fresh Mex. Even before we ordered, we knew we’d found a special restaurant. They served us homemade chips and three condiments: pico de gallo, roasted red-chile salsa, and tomatillo salsa. Each was spectacular. Just enough spice to add a little heat, some zing, but not so much that we recoiled. Just the opposite. We dug in, enthusiastically commenting about the unique tastes.

We ordered their “super burritos” that night, and both of us agreed they surpassed any burrito we’d ever eaten. They were fresh, hearty, wonderfully spicy, with just a hint of fire. The service was equally good: relaxed, fun, yet attentive and efficient. We returned the next morning for breakfast burritos with side orders of refried beans and guacamole. That might sound mundane, but every bite was heavenly. So we returned that night for dinner and ordered their stew, which they served with steaming, corn tortillas.

We’d never heard of this Mexican cross between soup and stew. Wow! It was a meal we’ll never forget. Ingredients include slivers of seasoned, grilled beef, pinto beans, chunks of avocado, and cilantro. The owner told us he has a relative in Chicago who owns a restaurant and serves only this dish—nothing else—and customers line up for it day and night. Between spoonfuls of this divine soup, we sipped fresh, tart-yet-sweet tamarindo juice. For desert, we sipped iced horchata, which approximates liquid, vanilla ice-cream laced with cinnamon.

The owners of Casa de Amigos are Victor and Alicia. Their extensive menu is based on family recipes from Victor’s home in Jalisco province, Mexico. You’ll find Casa de Amigos at 805 Zion Park Blvd, on the east side of the street, just outside the south entrance to Zion National Park. It’s open seven days a week for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Hike fast and far in Zion, so you’ll come to Casa de Amigos with a voracious appetite. And ask if they’ve made a batch of tamarindo or horchata. Both drinks are delectable.

grizzly bear

Bears are constantly menacing hikers in the Canadian Rockies. Not through direct encounter, which is rare, but through the towering, terrifying shadow they cast across hikers’ imaginations. As a result, countless hikers are so intimidated, they never probe the wilderness deeply, never stray from the most popular hiking trails.

We want you to fully appreciate the Canadian Rockies. That’s not possible if you limit yourself to short hikes on crowded trails. Because there’s more to experiencing wilderness than simply seeing it. You must feel it—which you can’t do if constantly distracted by the sight and sound of other people.

Wilderness hiking requires confidence. Confidence that a bear encounter is unlikely. Confidence that, should you see a bear, you can prevent a close encounter. Confidence that even in a close encounter with a bear, you can walk away uninjured. Such confidence is based on knowledge. So here’s what you need to know.

But first, would you rather listen than read? Download our 30-minute Bears Beware! MP3. Click on “Books” in our  home page menu. You’ll find it under “Bear Safety.” Listen to it at home, or on your iPod while driving to the trailhead.

You prefer to read? Carry on here. We’ve shortened the 30-minute MP3 for you:

Only a couple hundred grizzly bears roam the Canadian Rocky Mountain national parks. The black-bear population is comparable. You’re more likely to see a bear while driving the Icefields Parkway than while hiking most backcountry trails.

Grizzlies are the slowest reproducing land animals in North America. Only the musk ox is slower. So Banff Park’s grizzly population will remain small.

The Banff Information Centre posts trail reports that include bear warnings and closures. Check these before your trip; adjust your plans accordingly.

Grizzly bears and black bears can be difficult to tell apart—even for an experienced observer. Both species range in colour from nearly white to cinnamon to black. Full-grown grizzlies are much bigger, but a young grizzly can resemble an adult black bear, so size is not a good indicator.

The most obvious differences are that grizzlies have a dished face; big, muscular shoulder humps; and long, curved front claws. Blacks have a straight face; no hump; and shorter, less visible front claws. Grizzlies are potentially more dangerous than black bears, although a black bear sow with cubs can be just as aggressive. Be wary of all bears.

Any bear might attack when surprised. If you’re hiking, and forest or brush limits your visibility, you can prevent surprising a bear by making noise. Bears hear about as well as humans. Most are as anxious to avoid an encounter as you are. If you warn them of your presence before they see you, they’ll usually clear out.

Use the most effective noisemaker: your voice. Shout loudly. Keep it up. Don’t be embarrassed. Be safe. Yell louder near streams, so your voice carries over the competing noise. Sound off more frequently when hiking into the wind. That’s when bears are least able to hear or smell you coming. To learn more about what sounds to make, where and when, download our Bears Beware! MP3. It’s subtitled “Warning Calls You Can Make to Avoid an Encounter.”

Bears’ strongest sense is smell. They can detect an animal carcass several kilometers (miles) away. So keep your pack, tent and campsite odor-free. Double or triple-wrap all your food in plastic bags. Avoid smelly foods, especially meat and fish. On short backpack trips, consider eating only fresh foods that require no cooking or cleanup.

If you cook, do it as far as possible from where you’ll be sleeping. Never cook in or near your tent; the fabric might retain odor. Use as few pots and dishes as you can get by with. Be fastidious when you wash them.

At night, hang all your food, trash, and anything else that smells (cooking gear, sunscreen, bug repellent, toothpaste) out of bears’ reach. Use the metal food caches provided at some provincial-park backcountry campgrounds. Elsewhere, a tree branch will suffice. Bring a sturdy stuffsack to serve as your bear bag. Hoist it at least 5 m (16 ft) off the ground and 1.5 m (5 ft) from the tree trunk or other branches. You’ll need about 12 meters (40 feet) of light nylon cord. Clip the sack to the cord with an ultralight carabiner.

Backpackers who don’t properly hang their food at night are inviting bears into their campsite, greatly increasing the chance of a dangerous encounter. And bears are smart. They quickly learn to associate a particular place, or people in general, with an easy meal. They become habituated and lose their fear of man. A habituated bear is a menace to any hiker within its range.

If you see a bear, don’t look it in the eyes; it might think you’re challenging it. Never run. Initially be still. If you must move, do it in slow motion. Bears are more likely to attack if you flee, and they’re fast, much faster than humans. A grizzly can outsprint a racehorse. And it’s a myth that bears can’t run downhill. They’re also strong swimmers. Despite their ungainly appearance, they’re excellent climbers too.

Climbing a tree, however, can be an option for escaping an aggressive bear. Some people have saved their lives this way. Others have been caught in the process. To be out of reach of an adult bear, you must climb at least 10 m (33 ft) very quickly, something few people are capable of. It’s generally best to avoid provoking an attack by staying calm, initially standing your ground, making soothing sounds to convey a nonthreatening presence, then retreating slowly.

What should you do when a bear charges? If you’re certain it’s a lone black bear—not a sow with cubs, not a grizzly—fighting back might be effective. If it’s a grizzly, and contact seems imminent, lie face down, with your legs apart and your hands clasped behind your neck. This is safer than the fetal position, which used to be recommended, because it makes it harder for the bear to flip you over.

If you play dead, a grizzly is likely to break off the attack once it feels you’re no longer a threat. Don’t move until you’re sure the bear has left the area, then slowly, quietly, get up and walk away. Keep moving, but don’t run.

Arm yourself with pepper spray as a last line of defense. It’s available at outdoor stores. Keep it in a holster—on your hip belt or shoulder strap—where you can grab it fast. Cayenne pepper, highly irritating to a bear’s sensitive nose, is the active ingredient. Without causing permanent injury, it disables the bear long enough to let you escape. Many people have successfully used it to turn back charging bears.

Research presented to more than 300 bear experts at the 4th International Human-Bear Conflict Workshop, in Missoula, Montana, suggests pepper spray is more effective than firearms at stopping a bear attack. The combined results from two studies are convincing: 98% of people who used pepper spray to stop charging bears walked away from their encounters unharmed, and none of the people or bears died. 56% of people who used firearms to stop charging bears were injured, and 61% of the bears died.

Vigilance and noise making, however, should ensure you never encounter a bear at close range, thus preventing you from having to so much as unholster your pepper spray. Do so only if you really think your life is at risk, at which point the bear is at risk as well. A bear confronted by a human being is at one of the most precarious, dangerous moments of its life.

Any time bears act aggressively, they’re following their natural instinct for self preservation. Often they’re protecting their cubs or a food source. Yet if they maul a hiker, they’re likely to be killed, or captured and moved, by wildlife management officers. So when you go hiking in the Canadian Rockies, you’re accepting responsibility for the protection of these beautiful, magnificent creatures.

Merrily disregarding bears is foolish and unsafe. Worrying about them is miserable and unnecessary. Everyone occasionally feels afraid when venturing deep into the mountains, but knowledge and awareness can quell fear of bears.

Just take the necessary precautions and remain guardedly alert. Experiencing the grandeur of mountain wilderness is certainly worth risking the remote possibility of a bear encounter.

Simply taking an occasional rest break while dayhiking isn’t enough. If you want to cover big mileage without physical stress, you need to take smart breaks.

Don’t just perch on a rock for a few minutes while you sip water and nibble a chocolate bar. Give your body all it needs to fully serve you.

(1) The more comfortably you sit, the more your body relaxes. Deeper relaxation = higher quality rest. So bring a bum pad.

bum pad

It not only cushions, it insulates. Five minutes sitting on a bum pad is worth eight minutes sitting on bare, rough, cold ground. You can make a bum pad that weighs only two ounces and costs only a couple bucks. Buy a sheet of 3/8” thick, closed-cell foam, then cut it into 16”x16” squares—or whatever size suits your physiology.

Here’s a 72” x 20” sheet of closed-cell foam for only $7.21: http://www.amazon.com/Texsport-Pack-Lite-Pad-72-20-Inch/dp/B0019KHLIY/ref=sr_1_5?s=sporting-goods&ie=UTF8&qid=1330788052&sr=1-5

Another advantage of a bum pad is emergency use. On a dayhike, should you ever have to bivouac due to injury or navigational error, a bum pad will reduce the misery factor considerably.

(2) Your leg muscles contract with every stride. Constantly contracting, they tighten and shorten. Flexible muscles allow long, fluid, powerful strides. So a smart break includes a few minutes of stretching. To stretch comfortably and effectively, you need to lie down. If you don’t want to flail around in the dirt, you need a backcountry yoga mat. Not a typical, heavy, cushioned mat. But an ultralight sheet of nylon fabric.

backcountry yoga mat

A tent footprint from a tiny, one-person tent is ideal. It should weigh only about 2 or 3 oz, if you cut off the extraneous, webbing and grommets. And if it’s anthropomorphic in shape (narrow at the head, broader at the shoulders, tapering to the feet), it won’t be bulky. The MSR MicroZoid one-person tent footprint is ideal. Originally retailing for $35, you can now buy one for just $10: http://www.amazon.com/MSR-Microzoid-Fast-Light-Footprint/dp/B000A8C60Y/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1330787166&sr=8-1

Refuse to stretch? Averse to yoga? Think of it as a down-time tarp. Don’t just sit on your bum pad during your smart break. Lie down for a few minutes, and relax completely. You’re not likely to do that on the ground. But you will, if you have your down-time tarp in your daypack.

(3) Staying hydrated is critical for optimal athletic performance. Water is essential. But supplementing your water turns a rest break into a smart break. We recommend Emergen-C. It adds subtle flavor, which ensures you drink more water than you otherwise might.

Emergen-C

Each packet contains 1,000 mg of vitamin C, zinc, quercetin and antioxidants to support your immune system; seven B vitamins, which boost energy naturally (no caffeine, no crash); magnesium to reduce cramping; and electrolytes to replace those you lose through perspiration. A packet of Emergen-C is virtually weightless. Bring four packets per person, per day. You can buy a box of 30 packets for just $7:  http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss/180-3508181-1277529?url=search-alias%3Daps&field-keywords=emergen-C&x=10&y=16

(4) Mid-hike refueling is very different than dining at home. Convenience, concentrated food value, and rapid assimilation are vital when hiking. That’s why Power Bars, Honey Stinger Bars, Luna Bars, etc. are popular. You probably bring power foods like these on every hike. You should. We do, too.

super food

But we’re increasingly turning to live, super foods for backcountry nutrition. The more we read about them, the more we’re convinced they’re superior. We recently discovered Navitas Naturals. In particular, we like their antioxidant superfood trail mix. Here’s what Navitas has to say about it…

“Trail mix was invented by ancient nomads who were experts at creating portable, high-energy snacks that withstood weather and did not need cooking. This bag contains 100% goji berries, mulberries and goldenberies that are certified organic, kosher, vegan, and raw.

“This antioxidant- and nutrient-rich combination will give you energy through the day on your next outdoor adventure. The health benefits afforded by snacking on this nutritious blend are superior to eating any of these superfoods alone.”

It’s remarkable how much protein these berries contain. Just one ounce of Navitas trail mix contains 19g of carbohydrate and 3g of protein. Protein is essential for rebuilding muscle.

A 4-oz bag of Navitas trail mix costs $6: http://www.amazon.com/Navitas-Naturals-Mulberry-Goldenberry-Antioxidant/dp/B000UW1C5U/ref=sr_1_53?ie=UTF8&qid=1330798397&sr=8-53

We hope at least one of these smart-break suggestions will help boost your energy, mileage and enjoyment on the trail, and ensure you return to the trailhead less depleted.

Walk on!

A Paved Road So Compelling, We Asked Ourselves “Why Hike When We Can Ride?”

Though hiking is our focus in life, we occasionally take a break from the backcountry to go road cycling. Riding is an effective way to stay fit when trails are snow covered but paved roads remain dry.

Choose the right road, and cycling can be just as scenic as hiking—perhaps more so, if you factor in how far you can ride in a day and how much scenery that distance allows you to appreciate compared to a day on foot.

During our recent foray to Tucson, Arizona, we brought our road bikes. Sure, winter hiking is superb there. But while driving to trailheads in the Santa Catalina Mountains last winter, we realized the highway climbing from Tucson up 9157-ft (2792-m) Mt. Lemmon is a world-class road ride on par in every respect with Mont Ventoux, of Tour de France fame. We had to try it.

Lemmon is the highest and largest massif of the four sky-island mountains surrounding Tucson. Sky Island means an island of forest in a sea of desert. Lemmon towers over Tucson, and the highway (skyway, is more like it) affords views of other, prominent sky-islands including Tanque Verde Mtn (nearby SE), Rincon Peak (distant SE), and Mt. Wrightson (SE).

The road has many names. Most people call it the “Mt. Lemmon Hwy.” Some call it the “Catalina Hwy.” And it’s now officially the “Sky Island Scenic Byway.” The mountain was named in honor of botanist Sarah Lemmon, who in 1881 was lead to the summit by Native American guides.

The ride is spectacular, exhilarating, challenging. It’s a constant, serpentine, cliff-side ascent above canyons, beneath hoodoo pinnacles, ultimately into a grand forest. It climbs from sand to ice, from saguaro cacti to ponderosa pines, from snakes to bears. Views are frequent, often panoramic. And the pavement is perfection: smooth, with a slender-but-adequate shoulder providing a margin of safety. In all of North America, very few roads offer such magnificent cycling.

As for vehicle traffic, cyclists can relax on the Mt. Lemmon Hwy. The road is so sinuous, it’s difficult for motorists to drive dangerously fast. If you ride here midweek, you’ll encounter only light vehicle traffic. And if you ride here on a weekend, when vehicle traffic increases markedly, you’ll be among many other cyclists strung out along the entire route, so motorists will be alert to your presence. Plus, Tucson is a bike-friendly city where—generally—cyclists are expected and accepted. In that regard, Tucson is refreshingly European.*

The Mt. Lemmon Hwy was completed in 1950 after 17 years of construction. It was awarded the Arizona Engineering Excellence Grand Award for Context Sensitive Design in 2005, because it deftly preserved the tumultuous terrain and delicate environment.

We’ve cycled Hwy 1 along California’s Big Sur Coast, the Icefields Parkway in the Canadian Rockies, and Utah’s Hwy 12 from Escalante to Capitol Reef National Park via Boulder and Torrey. All are premier rides. But Mt. Lemmon is our favorite.

In December, 2009, Team Radioshack trained for the 2010 Tour de France on Mt. Lemmon. No wonder. Winter weather here is so consistently sunny and warm that you can usually ride in shorts and short sleeves. Only if it gets windy higher on the mountain might you need tights and a wind shell.

Our first day on Mt. Lemmon, we cycled 14 miles (22.5 km), gaining 3,500 ft (1067 m) from elevation 3050 ft (930 m), to Windy Point Vista, at 6560 ft (2000 m). Pedaling at our loping, “scenery first” pace, it took us about one hour and 40 minutes, plus 20 minutes for stretching and refueling. Bear in mind, we stopped and gawked at all the vista pullouts. We recommend you do, too, even though your bike already grants you a vastly better view than is possible from a car.

Going that slow was a joy. We were constantly captivated by the views and astonished by the highway itself. In some places, only if you tilt your head way back will you see the highway almost directly above you. Yet only a few, brief sections of pavement qualify as “steep.” Languorous switchbacks keep the ascent mercifully gradual.

The 14-mile, downhill blast is ecstatic. From Windy Point Vista, we probably pedaled no more than a dozen crank revolutions (in the vicinity of Green Mtn trailhead). We arrived at our parked car within 35 minutes.

We were back on Mt. Lemmon a week later. This time we covered 20 miles (32.2 km), gaining 4150 ft (1265 m) to the Palisade Visitor Center at 7200 ft (2195 m). The 20-mile, downhill blast: 50 minutes. Emotional effect: a strong, lasting desire to return to Tucson and ride Mt. Lemmon again and again.

You’re a hiker who rides? Mt. Lemmon is one of those rare places where you might prefer a bike beneath your bum instead of a pack on your back.

Getting There

Drive to the junction of Sabino Canyon Road and Tanque Verde Road. This is in NE Tucson. Udall Park is on the SE corner. Reset your trip odometer to zero here, then proceed E on Tanque Verde.

1.2 km (0.75 mi) Bear left on Tanque Verde Road, where right leads to Wrightstown and Pantano Road.

4 mi (2.5 km) Turn left onto Mt. Lemmon Hwy.

7.3 mi (4.5 km) Park on the right, just beyond milepost 1, at 3050 ft (930 m).

The Ride

0 mi (0 km) Milepost 1, at 3050 ft (930 m).

5.7 mi (9.2 km) Molino Basin rest area, at 4370 ft (1332 m).

9 mi (14.5 km) Thimble Peak Vista, at 5320 ft (1622 m). Here you can peer W, across Bear Canyon—the largest drainage in the Santa Catalina Mtns. Seven Cataracts Vista is shortly beyond, followed by three long switchbacks. Soon enter a forested canyon. Beside you is a creek drainage harboring sycamore trees.

12 mi (19.3 km) General Hitchcock campground, at 5920 ft (1805 m). It’s closed (gated) during winter.

14 mi (22.5 km) Windy Point Vista, at 6560 ft (2000 m). A spectacular vantage. Public toilets. In the next couple miles, you’ll pass Geology and Hoodoo vistas.

17.6 mi (28.3 km) San Pedro Vista. The Galiuro Mtns are visible E.

20 mi (32.2 km) Palisades Visitor Center, 7200 ft (2195 m). Pass a water faucet and public toilets on the right, just before arriving.

25 mi (40.25 km) Village of Summerhaven, 7840 ft (2390 m).

*Here’s another, exceptional ride in Tucson. Drive to the East section of Saguaro National Park. From the visitor center, cycle the 8-mi (13-km) Cactus Loop. Do it twice. The scenery is good, the pavement smooth, and the midweek vehicle traffic is nil.

"Not today."

“I don’t want to. Not today, at least.”

Very rarely do I feel and think that. But it has happened. Halfway up a mountain, even.

In the past, I’ve ignored it. Pushed onward, upward.

But I recently learned that heeding this impulse can be wise and rewarding.

Wishing my companions strength and success, describing to them my new, alternate plan, I peeled away from the group and began traversing rather than ascending.

Suddenly, it felt like a dance instead of a chore. Creative rather than submissive. More energizing, less depleting.

I began an unanxious traverse, following my bliss, ultimately looping back to the trailhead having discovered a new cross-country route.

Walking the Earth, I was reminded, should be impulsive. An act of inspiration. Not a colour-strictly-within-the-lines duty.

Turn-around points. Veer-off points. I watch for them with more awareness now, just as I do cairns.

– Craig

Snow Canyon, just outside St. George, Utah, is one of our all-time favorite places to camp. We describe it in detail in our guidebook: “Hiking from Here to WOW: Utah Canyon Country.” It’s Trip 1, on page 34. So on our recent migration south, from Canmore, Alberta, to Tucson, Arizona, we camped here and explored the area yet again. We brought our road bikes and cycled the dedicated path heading north out of the State Park, then looping back to the park via the city. We cycled the bike path from the park, east to Kayenta, where we looped through trophy-home neighborhoods in a gorgeous, high-desert setting. We hiked the trails (covered in our book) within the park. We enjoyed it all, even though we’d done it before. But this time we did something new: We rambled off-trail on the slickrock at the head (north end) of Snow Canyon. We discovered superb “slickwalking” terrain, where we roamed—climbing, traversing, descending—for hours. If you’re a strong hiker, capable of navigating cross-country, and comfortable on steep terrain, we urge you to try it. The photos we’ve posted here (click once to enlarge, click a second time to enlarge fully) are a testament to the beauty and intrigue that await you. The last photo attests to the appeal of the campground setting. Bear in mind, all these photos were shot in December. As for how to approach Snow Canyon’s optimal slickwalk terrain, begin on the Whiterocks trail, follow the north fork into the slickrock draw, then begin ascending. Or hike west on the Lava Flow trail, then veer off trail, northwest, at the point nearest the slickrock. If you’re capable, this is all the directional advise you’ll need to begin hours of freelancing. If you feel the need for more directional assistance, you’re in over your head and should keep to the established trails. As always when hiking in Utah canyon country, take care not to step on the fragile, cryptobiotic soil. … Walk on!

Water Walkin’

One of our readers recently posed a good question: “Your guidebook, ‘Hiking from Here to WOW: Utah Canyon Country,’ has several photos of you guys splashing through water. We’re wondering, what’s your footwear solution for dry/wet/dry/wet terrain?”

It’s now too cold for hiking through water in the canyons of Utah. But the daytime temperatures remain comfortable for water walkin’ in southern Arizona. Last year, for example, we hiked through Aravaipa Canyon in January. We were in water constantly. And we were very comfortable.

If you have plans for a winter hiking escape to Arizona, or if you intend to shop the winter sales for water-walkin’ footwear you intend to use in Utah next spring, we thought you might appreciate our response to that question about dry/wet/dry/wet terrain. Here you go:

After years of experimenting with everything from Teva sandals, to 5-10′s, to old boots we don’t care about, to paddling socks + sandals… ad naseum, we eventually found what we think is the optimal solution.

Start with a pair of all-synthetic hiking boots. In other words, regular hiking boots that have no leather in their construction. Non-leather boots do not absorb water, so they remain light rather than become sodden and heavy. Non-leather boots are not damaged by days of hiking in water. Plus they dry much faster once you’re out of the water. Here are a couple examples:

Salomon Cosmic 4D GTX

http://www.travelcountry.com/shop/salomon/cosmic-4d-gtx-boots-mens.html?RefId=72&RefType=Affiliate

Kayland Zephyr Event

http://www.sierratradingpost.com/kayland-zephyr-event-hiking-boots-for-men~p~4057g/?filterString=search~kayland%2F&colorFamily=01

Whether you’ll be in water or not (or in and out of water), these boots will serve you well on almost any terrain. And they’re better in desert climes than all-leather boots, because they breathe a bit better and will therefore keep your feet a little cooler.

So, when you start hiking (presumably on dry ground), you wear your all-synthetic boots and your regular wool/synthetic blend socks. But in your pack, you bring a pair of thin, neoprene paddling socks (like the ones kayakers use). For example:

NRS Hydroskin socks

http://www.rei.com/product/722203/nrs-hydroskin-socks-unisex

Glacier Glove socks

http://www.sierratradingpost.com/glacier-glove-neoprene-fleece-lined-socks-for-men-and-women~p~11073/?filterString=search~neoprene-socks%2F&colorFamily=27

When you get to the point on your hike where wet feet are unavoidable, you stop, take off the dry socks, and put on the neoprene socks.

The neoprene socks will keep your feet warm, even in very cold water. And because you’re wearing boots designed specifically for hiking, you’ll be more stable and presumably more comfortable in rocky, slick, mucky streambed conditions.

Plus, you’ll no longer need two pairs of boots–one for wet, one for dry. And you won’t have to choose. Sometimes you don’t know whether you’ll be hiking in water or not. All you have to do is pack that pair of neoprene socks, just in case.

It works for us. Even on multi-day backpack trips.

Happy water walkin’.

Completely revised 3rd edition due out  summer of 2012. Exciting new trails will include several originating at Sol Mountain Lodge and Mount Carlyle Backcountry Lodge

It’s been more than a month since our last post. If you were following our blog until then, we apologize for our lengthy disappearance. We spent most of that time hiking in the Selkirks, Purcells and Monashees, working on the next edition of our West Kootenay guidebook.

Constantly driving long, rough, steep, unpaved access roads to and from trailheads, and hiking daily—from mid-morning nearly til sunset—doesn’t leave time or energy for much else, certainly not blogging. Getting dinner together each night, and getting ourselves going early each morning was all we could manage.

With winter descending on western Canada, we returned to our home in the Canadian Rockies. We’re now devoting our days to mentally re-hiking all that West Kootenay terrain, condensing what we learned onto the page. The unfortunate truth: we spend twice as much time at our computers as we do on the trail. But blogging is once again possible.

So here we are. Thanks for checking in. We’ll do our best to resume posting regularly.

Though exhausting, our recent West Kootenay sojourn was a rich experience. We used to live on Kootenay Lake. After scouring the mountains surrounding our home, we wrote Where Locals Hike in the West Kootenay, The Premier Trails in Southwest B.C. near Kaslo & Nelson. Though we eventually moved to Canmore, Alberta, we returned to the West Kootenay every year for backcountry research. This last stint there was the most intensive, as well as the most fruitful. The new trails and destinations we discovered are even more rewarding than those we must drop from the book due to trailhead access problems.

The upcoming 3rd edition of our Locals West Kootenay book will offer several exciting options you’ve likely never heard of. Some begin above Arrow Lake, at Sol Mountain Lodge (solmountain.com), and above the former mining boomtown of Sandon, at Mount Carlyle Backcountry Lodge (skihikebc.com). Both lodges are well known among avid, backcountry skiers. If you’re a skier who’s yet to visit Sol or Carlyle, we urge you to check these lodges out now, before they’re fully booked this winter.

But neither Sol nor Carlyle enjoy wide recognition among hikers—yet. We believe that will begin to change once we publish the 3rd edition of Where Locals Hike in the West Kootenay, which will offer complete directions for three premier hikes emanating from each lodge.

For now, here are some photos from our explorations near Sol and Carlyle. We hope they inspire you to watch for the upcoming 3rd edition of Where Locals Hike in the West Kootenay, The Premier Trails in Southwest B.C. near Kaslo & Nelson. It’s due out next summer.