Training Hike #1

Why would I do something that makes me feel uncomfortable, slow, insecure, incompetent, and out of place? I might do it for what I can learn that will make the next time easier. Or because, once I'm through it, I'm more of the person I want to be. Hello, future self.

To start training for my Arizona-Utah hiking trip, I climbed Sugarloaf Mountain, mostly straight up to the top and back down a short trail, adding some loops here and there as I searched for the longer trail (didn't find it), plus a couple of half-mile treks through the parking lots.

Sugarloaf Mountain Natural Area is a popular weekend excursion, about an hour's drive from Washington, D.C., with "19 great trails for hiking, walking, and birding and more," according to AllTrails. Plenty of folks are out there on Saturday morning walking through the woods, which are filled out with the bright green shades of late spring, and congregating on the rocky outcrops looking out over impressive vistas.

Although I've been here at least once, years ago, I remember nothing. I arrive around 8:30 a.m. at a small parking lot in front of a building, but a sign points to more parking beyond, so I drive past another building and a single portajohn and onto a road through the woods. After what seems like too long on that road, I finally reach a parking lot. There are several cars, and people next to them are doing their pre-hike prep. I see a sign for East Overlook – finally, something I recognize from the map. Walking that way, I'm happy to see two portajohns, as I've been regretting passing by the one back at the start of the long road to this point.

I stop to study the board displaying trail information. There are at least five different trails here, blazed in blue, white, red, green, and orange. The blue and white trails start nearby, but I'm not finding any blazes, so I return to the map and decide to go toward the red trail, near the West Overlook. I walk about a half-mile through a parking lot with no cars, feeling increasingly unsure of where I'm going. Finally I reach a small picnic area, continue past it, still don't see a trailhead, return to the picnic area to walk through it and climb a short distance, go back down and continue a bit farther, and finally see a green blaze pointing to what clearly is a trail.

Lesson 1

What I'm learning on this back-and-forth search is that I need to learn to use maps properly and to figure out more of the AllTrails app.

The green-blazed trail turns out to be the short way up the mountain, so it's a steep climb. Little kids are bounding up the rocky trail, and so are their parents carrying toddlers on their backs and babies in front packs. I do not bound. I pick my way over and around the large rocks that lead to a long, steep stone staircase. My body is still warming up and I'm breathing heavily and thinking that my hiking pace really should be faster. I do strength training! I should be stronger by now!

This is my first serious climb since last fall, and it's not all that much of a climb. Later, my AllTrails app will show that I gained 607 feet of elevation. Clearly, I didn't hike to the mountaintop, wherever that might be. The AllTrails page titled "Best Trails in Sugarloaf Mountain Natural Area" says that those 19 trails range from 295 to 1,748 feet in elevation gain.

Lesson 2: Do the research.

I didn't read that page before my hike. Instead, from the many pages for this area I chose "Sugarloaf Mountain and Northern Peaks Trail" because it described what I thought I was looking for, a 7.4-mile loop trail of moderate difficulty. A little more time spent studying a few more pages would have led me to a better hike.

The steps of the stone staircase are high, and I'm grateful for the wooden railing on one side. Finally I reach the top, a rocky plateau overlooking miles of countryside. I assume this is the summit, as there doesn't seem to be any more mountain to climb. I appreciate the vista from behind a small crowd of hikers perched on the rocks, then start looking for another way back down, hoping to find the longer trail. The only option I see is a post with red and orange blazes, so I head that way.

However, soon the trail becomes less clear and the descent very steep. The dirt under my feet is dry and slippery and I'm leaning on my poles to stay upright. Even taking slow, careful steps, I slide and fall backwards, a soft landing because thanks to the steep grade my butt was already close to the ground behind me. Scrambling up again, I look around for a blaze. Then it occurs to me to check the navigation map on my phone, which shows me that I am indeed off the trail, but it also shows which way I'm headed in relation to where I want to go. I climb back up to the plateau.

I ask a couple of people for directions and I'm actually relieved that they seem to know not much more than I do. Feeling better now that I'm on the red/orange trail, I sit on a comfortable log and eat my lunch. I've packed a salad of fresh, baby zucchini, tomatoes, radishes, and lightly steamed broccoli with avocado and a boiled egg. It's delicious.

On the trail again, I see a green blaze and, remembering that I came up that trail, decide to take it back down. I'm noticing that my legs and back feel stronger now. Even my arthritic left knee is doing fine, with no more than the normal twinges.

I descend the stone staircase and the rest of the trail and walk through the half-mile-long parking lot to my car to start the hour-long drive home. The AllTrails app tells me I've covered a distance of 2.82 miles in 1 hour 52 minutes (excluding stops). A 1.5 mph hiking pace actually isn't bad, for me.

Lesson 3: "Hike your own hike"

This is common trail wisdom that applies as well to off-trail life. A similar version of this appears in a recent article, "Ten Summer Cycling Training Tips," on the website of my town's bicycle shop:

Follow Your (Not the Group's) Instincts: Groups can be great for added motivation and giving you that extra push to go the extra mile. However, you still need to listen to your instincts. Constantly getting trashed by king-of-the-mountain contests is not going to do you any favors.

My "group" is inside my head – the stories I tell myself about how inept, inexperienced, and slow I am compared with everyone else. But I can set that story aside, and try out a different story: I am building skills and learning from experience, and the pace of my hike (and my life) allows me to appreciate all the amazing beauty of this mountain and my fellow hikers sharing it with me.

Final lesson of the day:

Driving two hours (round trip) in order to hike for two hours is not the most efficient use of time, no matter how lovely the mountaintop. I can also train by doing hill repeats in my neighborhood and running up and down the bleacher stairs at the middle school field, a five-minute walk from my house. Future self, on to the next training!