(adventure story)

It started with a bad breakup, an even worse haircut, and a pair of dusty hiking boots I found at the back of my closet. I wasn’t looking for a new hobby—I was looking for an escape. What I found instead was a trail that led me not just up a mountain, but back to myself.

I still remember my first hike. It was supposed to be “easy.” The kind of trail that influencers post about with perfectly filtered views and suspiciously clean shoes. Mine involved slipping in mud, misreading trail signs, and dramatically swearing at uphill climbs. By the time I reached the top, sweaty and mildly convinced I had lost a lung, the sun was setting over the trees like something straight out of a fantasy film.

And just like that, I was hooked.

Hiking, it turns out, is more than walking in the woods with fancy sticks. It’s therapy disguised as cardio. You wake up groggy and grumpy, lace up your boots, and somewhere between the birdsong, the ache in your calves, and the silence you didn’t know you needed, things start to shift.

Your brain, usually overloaded with emails, deadlines, and overthinking, slows down. You start noticing things: the crunch of gravel underfoot, the rhythm of your breath, the way the wind dances in the grass. It’s like the world gets quieter so your thoughts can finally make some noise.

And the best part? You don’t have to be a mountain goat or own high-end gear. I’ve seen 70-year-olds crush trails I could barely finish, and toddlers demanding snacks halfway up a peak. Hiking welcomes everyone—with or without coordination.

Since that first hike, I’ve tackled misty forests, rocky ridges, and more than one trail that probably wasn’t “technically” open. I’ve made friends with strangers over granola bars. I’ve watched stars from tent doors and learned that wet socks are character-building.

So if you’re looking for a hobby that clears your head, strengthens your legs, and fills your phone with sunset pictures—hiking might be just for you. All it takes is one step (and a willingness to occasionally pee behind a tree).