Why We Go By Heather Hoechst

Every year, like thousands (maybe millions) of other people, I make a conscious decision to try to put down my phone. As I read yet another article about the negative impact of scrolling on our mental health, nervous system, and cognitive function, the irony is not lost on me that I came across that information while scrolling. I have set digital health limits on the amount of time I can use Instagram and Facebook, stopped using Strava, and never could tolerate Tiktok or X. News alerts are turned off and I don’t get notifications when I get emails. I rarely have my phone in the bedroom and I try to put it away at least an hour before bed (often unsuccessfully). Still, I feel addicted to the screen. Most of us are. More and more, I feel myself automatically reaching for my phone…in line at the grocery store, while stretching, waiting for the noodles to boil, or between work phone calls. I don’t like it and, yet, it is so difficult to stop. It wasn’t until 2020 that I switched from my trusty $30 flip phone to a handheld computer, and man, there are days that I wish I could go back. Don’t get me wrong- there are many benefits of the smart phone that I find incredibly useful- offline maps, answers to burning questions at your fingertips, photo sharing, recipes, podcasts- to name a few. However, just like the gas station snack selection, along with the convenience comes real costs to our health. 

On a few recent backpacking trips to the desert, I reflected on my reasons for going backpacking and how those reasons have changed and morphed over the years. Currently, one of the most motivating and rewarding parts of backpacking is the escape from the phone and the incessant information overload of modern technology. As the world becomes more overwhelming, complicated, dark, and confusing, backpacking feels less like recreation and more like an essential aspect of our holistic health and wellness. This reflection led me to explore other reasons for going and I began asking my avid backpacker friends and family the same questions. Why do we go?

Solitude. Overwhelmingly, the response to my inquiry was “to find solitude.” Meriam Webster defines “solitude” as “1. The quality or state of being alone or remote from society; 2. A lonely place (such as a desert).” The second definition made me laugh out loud. I, and most of my backpacking friends, would disagree that the desert is a lonely place- though it is often a place of delicious solitude. I would argue there is a distinct difference between solitude and loneliness-we often seek solitude and try to escape loneliness- and yet, the two words are frequently listed as synonyms. Solitude for many of us does not necessarily mean being alone, as we often find ourselves backpacking with our significant others or close family and friends, but it does seem to require the “quality or state of being remote from society.” The term “society” in its purist definition does not have a negative connotation, but for many of us, it has become synonymous with the aspects of life that cause us the most stress- work, the internet, grocery stores, bills, taxes, traffic, the healthcare system, and (increasingly) politics. To be remote from those things with only members of our chosen tribe provides solace from the stress- a space to think without being told what to think in a place free from modern distractions. My partner and I recently backpacked into the Salt Creek area of Canyonlands National Park. Once we were off the main trails, we found ourselves alone and did not see another human for 48 hours. The only reminders of what we left were an occasional plane overhead and old fence lines. This aspect of our trip, along with the beauty of the place and the incredible rock art we found along the way, made it even more remarkable. 

Simplicity. Even as we try to keep things simple, our lives have become complicated. Take coffee, for example. To enjoy one cup of coffee, you have to make several decisions to get there. What kind of beans are you going to buy and how are they roasted? What kind of brewing method will you use? Drip? French press? Pour over? What mug will you choose? To go even deeper, what are the environmental and human costs of your coffee choices? Shade grown? Fair trade? To be fair, we often make those choices once a week and then enjoy several days of coffee drinking before we run out of grounds and have to make them again. Spread that across all the things we do day in and day out and our brains are overwhelmed with decisions. To me, this has become even more exhausting in the era of the internet because now I am presented with even more decisions: Should I take that supplement I read about online? Am I doing the right exercises for my tendonitis? Should I move my money into a different investment? What kind of food is best for my turtle? Do this, buy this, eat this! Protein is king- carbs are king- fat is king- fasting is king! Ah, I feel anxious just thinking about it all. Let’s go backpacking. Sure, the need for decision-making is still there when you pack your backpack, but once you are on the trail, it becomes so simple. By virtue of the limitations of how much you can put in your Six Moons Swift X backpack, your decisions on the trail come down to where you sleep, where you get water, whether you start hiking with your jacket on or off, and which snack you eat at any given moment. Taking a break from decision making is an underappreciated gift that we should all be giving ourselves more often. It gives our brains the opportunity to rest from those mundane tasks and allows exploration into bigger decisions we are making in our lives- like how we spend our days and whether our jobs are providing enough satisfaction or slowly killing us (maybe that’s just me). We sip our instant coffee (only one method works to brew it) from the warmth of our sleeping bags as we wait for the sun to melt away the chill. There is no email to check, no appointment to get to, no distraction from the enjoyment of the warm cup, the steam rising into the air, and that bitter liquid on our tongues. It all feels so simple. 

Nature and Awe. Of all the reasons we go, perhaps nature is the most obvious. We backpack so we can get to those remote and beautiful places that have been protected from destruction and development. We seek the mountain vistas, thundering waterfalls, glacial lakes, desert arches, and deep canyons. There is a reason that certain trips require permitting to limit overcrowding in areas that are considered exceptionally beautiful. I love those places just as much as all the other permit seekers, but sometimes the popularity takes away from the simplicity and solitude we also crave. Don’t get me started on the role of social media and the internet on this overcrowding. Finding nature and awe does not require navigating a complex permitting system and fighting for a camping spot. We are lucky to live in a country that (for now) still maintains a large amount of public lands open for exploration and wandering. On that recent trip into Canyonlands, miles from the campground and visitor center, I found myself in awe of the flowers blooming from prickly cacti, the dramatic rock walls and chiseled towers, and the surprisingly brightly colored rock art painted centuries ago. Drew was getting water from some potholes near our campsite and urged me to come look at the strange creatures swimming around in these temporary pools. What looked like small sticks were actually living organisms with mouths and legs! There is so much in the natural world that inspires awe. We just have to slow down and look. Take in one desert sunset or mountain sunrise and tell me you don’t feel in awe of the beauty and wonder of nature. No permit necessary.

Connection. Backpacking alone offers us the chance to connect back to ourselves, while backpacking with others gives us the opportunity to connect in ways that seem deeper and more meaningful than back there in “society.” Whether or not we are conscious of it, living in the world often requires us to “perform” in some way. I try to be my most authentic and true self as much as possible, but frequently find myself doing or saying things for external reasons- to fit in, to please someone, or to avoid conflict. Sometimes, these performative actions serve a necessary purpose (I really shouldn’t show up for a work meeting in my comfy cotton joggers), but at other times, they drain me of precious energy. Out on the trail, the lizards and the birds take me just as I am and I am able to reconnect with the wild and feral parts of myself that bring me joy. I find the same experience when I’m backpacking with others. Strip away “society’s” expectations and you can have some gritty and honest conversations that seem to thrive in the movement of walking. I find the sillier sides of myself- laughing until I can’t breathe or even explain what is funny. Likewise, I surprise myself by tearing up at the sight of a beautiful flower or sunset. Emotions feel pure and flow easily from one state to another- undulating with the trail beneath our feet. Sharing the dirt, the blisters, the backpacking meal farts, the sunsets, the views, the thirst, and the exhaustion bonds us in ways that cannot be conveyed through Instagram or a text chat. I feel a deep closeness to just about everyone alongside whom I have carried a backpack. 

You’re probably reading this on a phone. I certainly wrote it on a computer. There is a place for technology and progress. There is also a place to escape the chaos and overwhelm that comes with that progress. A place of solitude, simplicity, natural awe, and connectedness- and, that is why we go.