For First-Time Hikers

I was living in South Texas the first time I went hiking on a preserve trail. I admit I had no idea what I was doing, though the experience wasn’t completely new. I had previously hiked up a mountain in Monterrey, Mexico, with friends who lived there and knew the area. I remember leading the group, walking a few paces ahead of everyone through the trees, eager to reach the summit, but our hike was cut short, and I never saw the top. From that first experience, I was hooked and made up my mind to do it again soon. I wouldn’t though, hike through a forest again…not for another few years, anyway.

I had only ever “experienced” hiking and marveled at the beauty of forest scenery through old copies of National Geographic magazine and other related print material on the topic. I had seen it done in movies, namely adventure flicks where a band of heroes or a lone adventurer trek across vast landscapes while an aerial camera zooms out above them to reveal their relative smallness against the majestic, but foreboding, wilderness. This was certainly a far cry from the hikes through the arid brushland of South Texas that I was familiar with, which, while amazing in their own right, just weren’t quite at parity with hiking through a forest temple, with its mighty tree trunk pillars and stained glass-like treetop ceiling.

When I owned my first car, I finally had the opportunity to experience it for myself. Not far from my hometown was a national wildlife refuge, Santa Ana. I had visited it once before, as part of a grammar school field trip, but we hadn’t made it onto the trail (we were there to visit the nature center itself and watch the original version of Dr. Seuss’s “The Lorax”. Unlike the forests of the Midwest that I hike today, this was a mesquite forest of old gnarled mesquite trees, each draped in long, hanging Spanish moss. In the daytime, it was a scene straight out of an old western, the kind of place where John Wayne might track down a bandit. As the sun set, it was a scene straight out of a horror movie. It wasn’t National Geographic, but it was my forest, and the first place I thought of to take my future wife on a first date.

She wore the wrong shoes, which is what this post is really about. If you’ve never been hiking before, one of the first questions to come to mind is, no doubt, what you should wear. I’ve been there, recalling the images of hikers in the National Geographic magazines, thinking to myself, I need to get myself a proper pair of boots, a knapsack, and a fancy canteen for water, khaki cargo shorts, and a button-down plaid shirt, rolled at the sleeves. I recall thinking I had to look the part, like the people in those images, before I could go hiking. Nothing could be farther from the truth.

Sure, the right gear is important for just about anything we do, but only insomuch as it is practical to our purpose. In the wilderness, utility trumps appearances, and functionality trumps fashion. The right gear is whatever is right for you. It can differ from season to season, depending on where you’re hiking, and from trail to trail. I have been in the forest on hot summer Midwest days and during sub-zero Midwest winters. I’ve hiked on flat, foot-worn trails, through tall prickly prairie grass, and along damp marshy wetlands. Every situation required some minor adjustments, but a few staple items are important.

Here’s a breakdown of my typical hiking gear:

• Comfortable shoes, well-suited for the terrain and that provide sufficient traction. This doesn’t have to be hiking boots. Even sneakers can get the job done depending on the terrain. I would, however, avoid dress shoes, open-toe shoes, flat bottoms, and flip-flops. Take it from my wife and the white dress shoes she wore on our first date.
• Comfortable socks, because going commando in your shoes can result in painful blisters. Lengthwise, I prefer to protect my legs from thorns and insect bites, but I tend to go off-trail. Staying on the trail should pose little danger to your legs.
• Lightweight breathable clothing for warm weather; lightweight layered clothing for the cold. You never want to be over-encumbered by your clothing or gear, especially in situations where sweat or rain can weigh you down and make you uncomfortable. Clothing with plenty of pockets is optional, but I personally prefer it to carry equipment.
• Protection from the sun; in my case a baseball cap and/or sunglasses. Though you’ll spend most of your time sheltered by the shade of the forest canopy, some trails cross uncovered areas and the low early morning or early evening sun can cast intense light through the trees, limiting your visibility.
• Water. Depending on the length of the trail, the duration of the hike, and your access to water in between, you’ll want to bring along only enough water to avoid dehydrating or to clean wounds should you require first aid. A 34oz reusable water bottle is more than enough for my needs.
• A simple first-aid kit. Again, avoid carrying excess weight. I find that a small ziplock bag containing bandages, insect bite ointment, and antiseptic wipes suffices. If it is a popular trail, you’re likely to encounter other hikers should you find yourself in more serious trouble than this will cover. If you’re going it alone in a remote area, pack your first-aid kit accordingly.

The following items are the more personal-preference items that let me write this blog:

• My GoPro camera, for documenting the trail and capturing interesting footage to share (coming soon).
• My cellphone, for emergency purposes only and quick photography (I try to make my hikes as distraction-free as possible from my daily life and responsibilities, but I am a married man and a father, and my family needs a way to get a hold of me when I am alone in the forest).
• My all-purpose bound journal; small enough to fit in my back pocket or large drawstring bag, with only a pencil or a pen for notetaking and sketching.
• A drawstring nylon sports bag (lightweight, easy to store, but strong enough to carry anything I can’t hold in my hands.
• My multi-purpose paracord survival watch (which includes a compass, whistle, flint and steel, and a thermometer, half of which I’ve never needed to use but which straps unobtrusively around my wrist in a small package…just in case).
• A hiking pole (seriously optional; I choose to carry an inexpensive aluminum one for support as I hike up or down steep surfaces to reach off-trail locations, as well as for protection against the possibility of dangerous wildlife encounters, though I have never had to use it in this capacity).

As you can see, there is nothing particularly special about my gear and very little you can’t find in a typical closet. When it comes to preparing for a hike, a little common sense goes a long way. Take only what you need for what you want to get out of the hike. If exercise is your purpose, pack as light as possible. If you’re heading into the woods to document the experience, pack a camera. If you’re planning on going off-trail and into the brush, wear clothing that will protect you from thorns and the possibility of poisonous plants or insect bites. There is no uniform for hiking, and no special requirements either.

Perhaps the only essential requirement is the right footgear. You’re going hiking after all. Everything else should be selected purposefully, with a clear use in mind. If you’re like I was all those years ago, putting off hiking for lack of the “right stuff”, then put it off no longer. Your first hike will inform every hike thereafter, and you will learn from personal experience what works best for your hiking needs. What’s most important is that you hit the trail and discover, for yourself, the personal benefits of getting back to nature.

Have first-time hiking experiences or advice to share? Please post it in the comments section for others to read and learn from, and as always, thank you for being a valued member of the Forest and Trail community.

 

Hiking in the Forest

Understandably, the idea of hiking anywhere, really, can be intimidating. Companies specializing in outdoor equipment advertise hiking gear the same way they advertise equipment for more extreme sports like whitewater rafting and mountain climbing. Rest assured, hiking is for everyone healthy enough to enjoy a leisurely walk, and the most essential hiking gear can easily be found in a typical closet, but I will discuss the “right gear” in a separate post. Today, I’d like to focus on the experience of hiking in the forest.

I’ve been hiking the trails of the Forest Preserve District of Cook County for almost ten years. In my experience, the “difficulty” of each of these trails ranges anywhere from easy to moderate, without getting into the more complex rating system professional hiking publications use to rate the difficulty of a trail. I have yet to hike a trail in these forests that I would describe as difficult or challenging. This, of course, will differ from hiker to hiker, depending on your personal fitness level and any other physical limitations or considerations.

I can assure you, I am not a model of fitness by any stretch of the imagination, and would describe myself as only averagely fit with the occasional knee and joint pain. This is one of the many reasons why hiking is so appealing to me: it provides me with low-intensity exercise that is easy on my leg joints and that breaks with the monotony of exercising on a stationary treadmill. If you can endure a walk through a shopping mall or neighborhood park, you can very likely enjoy a hike through the woods with greater benefits to your health and fitness, minus the cost of a gym membership. After a long week of being stuck in a classroom or office, the last thing I want is to spend what little free-time I have confined to a gym.

Unlike the gym, the forest and its trails are truly ALIVE! They change with the seasons, the weather, and are constantly transformed by both nature and their woodland inhabitants. No two hikes, therefore, are ever the same. Even for two people sharing a hike, the trail and the surrounding forest are experienced differently. I, for instance, being a naturalist at heart, have an eye for the finer details of nature’s intricate web and will notice the smaller things my wife, and favorite hiking companion might miss. She, on the other hand, being an interior designer at heart, has an eye for the full tapestry of the forest, the lay of the trail, and nature’s rich color palette. We each get something different from the same trail, and come away a little richer spiritually, artistically, and psychologically, while enjoying the same physical benefits.

I like to treat each hike as a journey of discovery, whether that be a personal, internal discovery (finding a solution to a personal problem, reflecting on a past experience, or clearing my cluttered mind), or an external discovery of one of nature’s many treats (such as a previously unencountered woodland critter, or a previously unnoticed connection between members of the forest ecosystem). In this way, the benefits of hiking are always more than physical.

Carrying a journal on my hikes also allows me to document the trail, changes in a known trail, off-the-path hidden gems, and sketches of the local flora and fauna, all of which can turn a simple one-hour hike into a more profound, character shaping experience. Naturally occurring and man-made arbors or clearings at different points throughout the trail offer a great place to rest, maybe sit on a fallen tree trunk, and take in your surroundings. As a mind-clearing and centering exercise, I like to consciously focus on my breathing during these stops, cycling out the city air and filling my lungs with the sweet, aromatic air you can typically only find in the forest.

Another way to get even more value from your hiking experience is to come to the forest with some knowledge of the local history of the area or the trail itself. The Little Red Schoolhouse forest preserve, for instance, is so named for the one-room schoolhouse that once sat deeper within the forest, nestled among its trees. Though the structure itself has since been moved and renovated, a historical marker along the trail marks the original clearing on which the building rested. As an educator, I have always been captivated by the image this produces in my mind of early pioneer children walking to school through the forest along similar foot-carved paths as those that now mark the trail through those woods. These links to the past are not unlike the experience of visiting a national monument or museum exhibit, but instead add to that experience the thrill of discovery and a sense of being transported to a different place and time, given the seamless, undisturbed proximity to the location.

Being as how many closed or “circuit” trails often begin at a fork in the path, simply choosing to change the initial direction of travel can alter the experience of walking the trail. Unless you are the kind of hiker that pauses at intervals to do a 360-degree turn and take in your surroundings, you are not likely to look back on the ground you’ve covered or the sights you may have missed in passing that are now behind you. This makes revisiting previously hiked trails a great practice, certainly worth your time.

Ultimately, these are just some of the more memorable and noteworthy experiences I’ve had in my history of hiking through the local forests, without getting into too much detail about each finer experience therein. The important takeaway from my sharing this is the understanding that hiking offers both shared and unique experiences for everyone that can be as rewarding, if not more so, than the physical benefits of purposeful walking. If you are reading this blog because you’ve never visited your local forest but are considering it, I truly hope you’ll take the time to head out and experience the joy of hiking through the forest for yourself.

If like me, you’ve collected similarly impactful experiences over time, I would love for you to share them in the comments section. Thank you for choosing to be a part of the Forest and Trail community. Until next time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Homecoming

I’ve always described myself as an amateur naturalist. I am an educator by profession but have been a student of the natural world longer than I have been a teacher. Growing up in rural south Texas, forests were few and far between. Whenever possible, and as soon as I was able to provide my own transportation, be it bicycle, car, or on foot, I’d venture off to my local park, nature preserve, or the dusty brushland that fills the empty spaces between residential subdivisions, main street businesses, and farmland. In my mind, I was an explorer braving the wilds in search of previously undiscovered lands; secret, hidden places that would be known only to me and a select group of friends. It was on these journeys that I discovered my love of science, the natural environment, and the thrill of being lost without a map and only my feet to guide me.

Some twenty years later, I packed up my life into a few storage bins and left south Texas for the Midwest, settling along the southwest edge of Chicago. By chance, my new address placed me right smack in the middle of where a person of my naturalistic inclinations needed to be. I was within a short commute of both the city’s downtown center and the suburb’s woodland perimeter. Coming from the rural countryside, the bustling city could be overwhelming at times, suffocating almost, leaving as my only recourse to head further south, away from Chicago, to the wooded haven of the forest preserve district dividing the urban sprawl of the city from the more familiar feel of the small suburban towns along Southwest Highway.

It was here that I discovered what my childhood heart had long yearned for. Here, nestled along the homey villages of such quintessential names as Palos Park, Hickory Hills, and Willow Springs, I discovered my inner naturalist’s home in the forest preserve of Cook County, Illinois. Little Red School House and Maple Lake in Pulaski Woods, Swallows Cliff, Pioneer Woods, and Lake Katherine became pilgrimage sites I’d journey to every chance I got. Not only did these natural sanctuaries remind me of home, with their serene stillness and relative silence, but they also shaped my character. Layer by hardened layer, the tough exoskeleton that had formed around me as a survival mechanism to acclimate to the harsh realities of urban life was carved off, revealing the naturalist in all its wonderous curiosity. I was finally home.

After nearly a decade of living in Chicago, I finally stopped referring to my mother’s home in Texas and the sleepy town I’d grown up in as “back home”, but home was not now Chicago, either. No, home was a quiet, lonely dirt trail beneath a canopy of proud and stately oak, hickory, maple, elm, and basswood trees. Home was the gentle lull of a zephyr flowing swiftly between softly rattling tree branches and rustling leaves. Home was among the company of hidden woodland creatures going about their day to the playlist of wild birds’ songs. Home was a place my wife, a Chicago native, had first introduced me to as we retraced her childhood adventures. It is a place we both look forward to soon sharing with our children…a place I hope they, too, will learn to associate with home.

Which brings me to this blog and to this first of what I hope will be many posts about the hidden treasures of the forests of Cook County, Illinois and the greater Midwest region. My name is Osiris Alday, and I am a woodland native. My true home, the home life, work, and the daily rat race keeps me from, is the forest. It is there that I find peace and repose from the hustle and bustle of urban life, and there that I will go on weekend adventures to capture, document, and share the beauty of nature through writing, in photographs, and on film. I hope to use this blog to build a community of amateur naturalists who share in their discoveries and guide their fellow naturalists to the hidden gems of this region’s wooded areas. Welcome to the Forest & Trail community!