The Year in Walking
A dispatch from my now-annual Winter Solstice hike...plus what I learned from other big rambles in 2023.
Hello friends, happy New Year!
There is this moment on a long walk where I almost forget I am walking, where pure momentum transports me. It's a flow state of sorts, my feet pounding out a rhythm in concert with my breath. Even if my soles hurt or my low back aches, the cadence carries me. I just walk, one foot in front of the other, no agenda other than arriving at the end of the trail. It is not boring, although in some ways, boredom is the point.
And I have needed those moments of transcendental tedium this year, a big year dominated by the release of Windfall. Wow was it fun to accomplish a lifelong dream! But it was not always easy. When I look back at 2023, I will remember it as the year my first book came out—punctuated by a series of long, centering walks.
There was the city walk my sister and I took with Mojie to calm my nerves the morning of Windfall's release. The winter hike with a friend (and again with Mojie) in the desert east of Bend, Oregon, while on book tour. A hike up the mountain overlooking Helena, Montana—on yet another leg of the book tour. A 30-mile summer solstice hike in one day with my husband. The hike down to the surface of Crater Lake and the huff back up for my 50th birthday. A 10-mile solo hike in the Badlands of North Dakota that unexpectedly tested my psychological and physical reserves. The last-minute relay race with old friends and new in the Coast Range of Oregon. A hot hike in Joshua Tree with a college pal a week after recovering from Covid. (What was I thinking?) A solo wander through Colorado National Monument a few days later. My annual 15-mile winter solstice hike here at home in Portland. The rainy Christmas Day walk with Chris and our very wet dog. And perhaps one more hike today in Central Oregon to close out the year.
Here are my trail reports from a few memorable 2023 walks. With a guest dispatch from Chris!
16.1 miles - WINTER SOLSTICE HIKE, WILDWOOD TRAIL
Over the past three years, I've cultivated a personal, end-of-the-year holiday tradition: Walking half the length of the 30-mile Wildwood Trail in Portland on the Winter Solstice. This annual hike is generally about 15 miles long, which is roughly six hours of walking, including stops to rest and take photos. I don't know why I started doing it, other than that the hike is something to look forward to in December when the days are short and can be dreary in Portland. It’s a joy to spend as much time as possible outside on the shortest day of the year—my own witchy solstice ritual. I've come to realize I need this day on the trail by myself to reflect on the past year and what I want from the next one. The walk perfectly coincides with both the end of the calendar year and the northern hemisphere's patterns of light and dark.
There are many trails in and around Portland, but I like the Wildwood Trail for this sort of hike. You can get to various trailheads via public transportation, which qualifies it as a microadventure. You don't have to have fancy equipment or even a car to do it. You can just…walk.
I also like how each year it’s sort of the same but not exactly. For example, the weather was so warm this El Niño year that I hiked without a coat; last year, temperatures hovered around freezing. I can see how, if I continue this hike in the coming years, I’ll use it as a benchmark to measure changes in our local climate and my physical fitness—and my tolerance for repetition.
This year’s hike began shortly after first light. It wasn’t until about mile 7 that I experienced that elusive flow state. (After an elevenses pop tart from Farina Bakery.) At mile 11, my low back began aching. At mile 12, my feet felt footsore. At mile 14, my knees complained. (Nothing Advil couldn’t fix.)
Some specifics that might be of interest to locals: This year I took the No. 14 bus from home and then the Red Line train to the Oregon Zoo stop, which is a few hundred feet from the Wildwood trailhead. I walked for about 13 miles along the Wildwood Trail, then cut down the Maple Trail and Firelane 4 to Saltzman Road, where I was hoping to catch the No. 16 bus.
Alas, I missed the No. 16 by two minutes! And the next one was 50 minutes away, ack. I had a choice: Wait for the bus or walk 1.6 miles along a busy highway through an industrial section of Portland to catch another bus. There, I could hop aboard the No. 15 bus that would take me almost all the way home.
I kept moving. What’s 1.6 miles when you’ve already walked nearly 15 miles in one bout?! As I approached the No. 15 stop, I could see my bus arriving. I was stuck on the other side of a wide intersection, waiting for the light to change. I realized I’d have to run to catch the bus, after walking nearly 16 miles. Fuck, my feet hurt. But I ran. I sprinted.
And guess what? The driver was on break for 15 minutes. So I waited. By the time I got aboard, the No. 16 bus was just passing by—that’s the one I could have waited for 1.6 miles and 50 minutes earlier. I laughed at myself, how could I not? But better almost always to keep moving than to wait impatiently for a bus.
When I got downtown, I decided to hop off at the fancy new Ritz-Carlton. No one blinked twice at my muddy trail runners, my hydration pack or my flushed cheeks as I made my way to the lobby bar for a beer—you gotta love Oregon for its PNW Luxe dress code. I told the bartender about my accomplishment. “Replenishing your electrolytes, eh?” he said. Always, man. Eventually, I hopped aboard the No. 15 again. By the time I walked .3 miles from the bus stop to home, it was once again dark.
30+ MILES - THE ENTIRE LENGTH OF THE WILDWOOD TRAIL
For this segment, I invited my husband and hiking companion, Chris Waldmann, to write his version of events. You can read my recap here.
A few days before the summer solstice, Erika asked me if I would like to join her in hiking all 30+ miles of the Wildwood Trail through Portland’s sprawling Forest Park. We’d been talking about doing this in one day since we moved here six years ago, but I didn’t want to insert myself into her solo trip uninvited. Also, she had been training for this all month, whereas I just had my normal (extensive) walking routine.
Yet I jumped at the invitation, relishing the idea of the longest trail hike in Portland on the longest day of the year. I could do this! I’m kind of a pack mule when it comes to long walks; load me up and set me on the path.
Memories of the day merge together. It’s a hike through deep forest with few views and constant rolling terrain. There’s the guy who started at about the same time as us, passing early and moving on like a jackrabbit. We weren’t that fast, but kept up a steady-ish pace confident that with nearly 16 hours of daylight, we could make it. There’s the soft click-click-click of the walking sticks I use to help me navigate less sure footing. There’s the post-lunch hours-long slog that led us to the final big climb of the day up to the heights of Pittock Mansion, which has a spectacular view of the city and Mt. Hood, but we were just too tired to go and see—had to keep moving. Finally, there was the joy and sense of real accomplishment when we made it to the parking lot. WE DID IT!
I love offbeat adventures, things that people might give you a bit of a funny look as you tell the story. “Why would you do that?” Well, I’m not a marathoner, I’m not a rock climber. Nor do I need the adrenaline rush of many adventure sports (although river rafting is super fun). But I want to push my limits. This was another great addition to my list, one I got to share with my love right in the middle of our adopted hometown. A Portland adventure that so many Portlanders had no idea you could do, and we did it.
Thanks, Chris!
10 miles - LOST IN THE BADLANDS OF NORTH DAKOTA
What more is there to say about this hike, which reminded me that the Badlands easily make fools of humans and our expectations? My heart broke as I walked away from the place where I spent a decade working on Windfall. Four months later, I have some perspective on my heartache. The hike, it turned out, shaped my next career move. From the blank, dangerous precipice of that journey, I discovered that my next project must draw from a similar, heart-centered place as Windfall.
14.2 miles - JOINING AN EPIC WALKING RELAY AT THE LAST MINUTE
My friend from elementary school texted me the day after my Badlands hike. Do you want to fill a slot on a walking team doing the Portland-to-Coast section of the Hood-to-Coast Relay?
Sure, why not?! The Hood-to-Coast and Portland-to-Coast Relay is a famous event at the end of August, billed as the largest running and walking relay race in the world. Running teams start at Mt. Hood and make their way 196 miles to the Oregon Coast; the walking teams begin in Portland, traversing 128 miles over two days.
Most of the time, you walk one segment a day, which is easy enough. You cannot run—if you’re on a walking team and you’re caught running, your whole team will be disqualified. The segments range from three to seven miles long. Some are hillier than others. When you’re not walking, you're in the van with your teammates, on your way to the next segment. As soon as you drop off a walker, the van drives to the next meeting point. (Does that make sense? I didn't understand it until I was there.)
My squad was short one walker, so two of us pitched in with an extra segment. I did three segments; one the first day, and then two the second day, including the anchoring 5.1 mile segment.
Before the race, I was worried about my pace being too slow. At our pre-race meeting, the team captain said we needed to average 14-minute miles, which is a swift, continuous pace for walking—it’s almost running. I didn't want to let anyone down, but on most hikes, I average 20- to 24-minute miles. It turns out my fears were unfounded—I was way faster in this race than I thought I'd be. I got passed by another walker only once, in the final segment, by a man with legs a foot longer than mine. This is race walking, not hiking. It’s fast. And there are ladies in their 70s at this event who have been practicing for years at the mall. Eat their dust.
It was fascinating to see how my body responded to maintaining a fast pace for other people, and how competitive I got about passing other walkers. I couldn't slow down at my whim; I had to maintain that fast pace for my team. It made me realize I am faster and more capable of maintaining a pace than I thought I was, which was intriguing information for the lazy runner in me. After this race, my general walking-around-the-city or through-an-airport pace got even faster. Interesting, no?
I knew no one on my team the day of the race other than my childhood friend. But there is a lot of standing around time and van time, and pretty soon, you get to know everyone on the squad and their life stories. We are all about the same age, and there is something so fun about hanging out with new people born around the same time as you. You have all the same cultural references but minimal baggage with each other. And none of the responsibilities of home for two days.
The most joyful moments of the relay were at the transfer points, when you got to slap the race bracelet on your teammate, or cheer on the transition of other people on your squad. Also fun: after you start a segment, your squad drives to the meeting point. They inevitably pass by you. And they cheer you on from the van. I went berserk every time it happened, dancing and jumping up and down in the middle of the road to take in all that energy from my new friends in the minivan.
One final observation about the Portland-to-Coast relay: This kind of race requires A+ snacks. I’m embarrassed to admit that my van mates bested me at snacks. Sliced cucumbers from their gardens! Trader Joe's Peanut Butter Pretzels! Ridiculously delicious homemade chocolate chip cookies made by someone’s kid! I owe the squad a few Gatorades next year. (I think I might still owe $20 in gas money, too.)
Just like there’s a moment on all long walks when my head clears enough for insight, there’s also a moment where I do not want the journey to end. I find myself hoping I can keep walking and walking and walking, unbothered by life off the trail. You cannot live in this state, of course. But you can take its lessons of momentum with you.
Thank you for being a part of this extraordinary year. For inviting me on walks or hikes, for cheering me along, for being by my side the year Windfall hit the streets. We made great strides. I'm so glad you've all been here to share it with me.
We did it!
Yours,
Erika
THE NEWS
All the links…
Learning to be a better walker. “I mentioned that on ordinary walks I found myself outpacing the people I was with. She has mistaken my boast for a complaint. I didn’t mean that I feel bad for leaving my friends behind. I meant that I am done with those people.” (LOL, I get it.)
Make your next vacation a long walk. A podcast interview with photographer Craig Mod, who says that one of the benefits of solo walking is seeing what comes up when you allow yourself to get really, really bored. (Many of his long walks are in Japan.) But he also plans long, conversational walks for groups. More on that here.
Why it might be a good idea to pick up the pace. If that’s your thing.
Whatever the problem, walking will help solve it. “Walking not only nourishes the body but also soothes the mind while it burns off tension and makes our troubles recede into a more manageable perspective.”
For further reading: 20 books about long walks. All of these recommendations from movement expert Katy Bowman would make great audiobooks to listen to while walking. (One of my yoga teachers also recommended The 12-Hour Walk, which I haven’t read yet. It touts taking 12-hour, tech-free solo walks.)
The benefits of walking with friends.
How to get more out of your walk. But only if you want to! A totally aimless stroll might be just what you need some days.
A classic from the New Yorker on how walking helps us think. This piece also explains the research behind the oft-cited Stanford study on the connection between walking and creativity.
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Happy New Year Erika! Keep the posts and books coming! Dana
Great job! Have you considered the Camino de Santiago? Walking parts of it with others (slowing down from my normal run pace, being more observant) was a highlight of my 2023.