Ricky Stephenson/Authors on the Range
I suppose on a hiking trail it is human to greet each other as we pass, but on a well-used trail you hear the same comments over and over again.
“Good morning.” As an introvert, I don’t understand why I have to say “good morning” to every member of a group of 30. “Good afternoon” doesn’t roll off the tongue very well either. Too many plosives and fricatives. Yesterday I was yelled at for not saying a cheerful “good morning” to a passing hiker. I didn’t realize I was at a garden party in Downtown Abbey.
Then there’s the comforting “you’re almost there” greeting. For one thing, I’m almost never almost there when I’m sure I am. Volunteers at 10Ks or marathons are warned never to tell anyone they’re almost there. You’re almost there when you can see the parking lot.
One annoying question is “Are you OK?” Why do they ask that? Granted, I have more gray hair than brown, but do I look frail enough to make them worry about my well-being? What would they do if I said, “It would really be 0K if you took my backpack!”
“How are you?” Do they really want to know that my trick hip is giving me problems and my backpack is irritating that weird spot on my shoulder blade? Probably not.
“Good luck.” And again: Why? Is the only thing that guarantees me success a quirk of fate? I usually answer: “In the words of the immortal solo climber of Mount Everest, Reinhold Messner, ‘I don’t believe in luck.'” That usually gets me a blank stare.
“Where did you start and how long did it take you?” That’s what people usually ask me when they’re hiking in the Grand Canyon. But why ask a stranger how they did? I’m not running a race. A woman asked me that in Bryce Canyon National Park because she and her boyfriend were attempting a loop trail. She thought they were on the wrong trail, but her boyfriend thought she was wrong. It turns out he was the one who was wrong, and he wasn’t happy to find out.
“Is it really harder to hike uphill?” Is that a trick question?
“Where are you going?” That seems like a deep, philosophical question to ask a complete stranger.
“How was it?” I guess I could answer on a scale of one to ten…
“Was it worth it?” I’m always tempted to answer, “No, turn around now.”
“Does this path lead anywhere?” “No,” I want to say, “it’s just there.”
“If I walk down this path, is there another way out?” Not really. Going in and going out is usually the case.
Sometimes a joker asks, “Are we there yet?” “Sometimes I answer, ‘Buddha would say, ‘We are always here.'” That makes me laugh every now and then.”
I have been asked several times where the nearest shuttle bus stop is. If you ask that question on a Grand Canyon trail, the answer is, “One mile back and 1,000 feet up the way you came.” A stunned look. “The bus doesn’t come down here?” “No,” I want to say, “they usually stay on the paved road.”
A young man said to me, “I hope I can.” I said, “It looks like I can.” “No, I mean when I’m your age.” I guess I can take that as a compliment. Then there’s the compliment, “I hope I’m as fit as you when I’m your age.” I want to reply, “Maybe I’ll be as fit as you!”
A friend who has gone gray during the COVID pandemic told me that she gets a lot more positive comments now than she used to: “Young hikers used to mutter quietly to themselves as I passed them. Now they tend to give a thumbs up and say, ‘Well done.'”
I was hiking one day with a group of women who have been hiking trails out west for years when a man stepped aside to let us pass. He beamed at us and said, “You ladies look radiant.” That’s the kind of hiking talk I like.
Marjorie “Slim” Woodruff is a staff writer at Writers on the Range, writersontherange.org, an independent nonprofit organization dedicated to fostering lively discussion about the West. She is an educator at the base of the Grand Canyon.
