LITTLE ROCK — Taking to Mother Nature's bounty with a degree of pleasure requires a singular task: to repeatedly put one's foot down solidly. Sounds simple.
As usual, things are not so simple. A knack for traversing long distances on gnarly terrain is a lifestyle unto itself. In his seminal 1975 essay "Running Talus," the rock climber and mountaineer Doug Robinson proposed an exercise for sharpening one's game. By running on enormous piles of loose rock, Robinson wrote, "each step becomes less of a stance, more of a way station to the next."
Disregard the crazy part of that and you have a recipe for efficient trail-walking. It's in the sharp eyes, in finding a relaxed forward rhythm. The impulse is to watch for obstacles, then aim one's self around them. This has it backward. Experienced pilots, bicyclists and motorcyclists speak of "target fixation syndrome." Target fixation means you go where you look. Ride your bike and stare at a tree - you'll hit it.
When one tromps along looking for obstacles to sidestep, the pace slows. Onthe other hand, if the eyes, always looking a few paces ahead, concentrate on stringing together a series of boring little flat spots on which to trod, the pace naturally quickens and the mind relaxes. It's all in the perception of opportunity. Take a "root drop," where a tree's root crosses a trail which has eroded away. Look at the entire root, and you give pause at this thing to trip over. Look only at the top of the root, and you see a stair step.
In short, see the trail not as a continual stream of impediments but as frequent intervals of opportunity that, curiously, are almost always one footstep apart. That wraps up Uneven Surfaces 101. Onward to deeper techniques.
Space walk. Peter Pilafian, a Hollywood cinematographer (K2, A River Runs Through It, Riding Giants), built his reputation on his ability to haul loads of camera gear to vertical places. (And more. That falling climber stunt at the end of The Eiger Sanction? That was Pilafian.) As they say, good judgment comes from experience and experience comes from bad judgment.
"In Pakistan in 1975," Pilafian recalls, "we're coming out of an expedition in the K2 area. It's a good seven days' hiketo get back. I'm enjoying the trail. I hit a stone that rolls my ankle and I collapse - I've done a bad sprain high up in the Karakoram. I'm with a big expedition that can't stop."
Duly inspired, Pilafian subsequently learned to what he calls "space walk." That is, to keep the knees flexed. He says, "If you're about to roll your ankle, if you have that springiness, you can let it roll a little bit and unload it. If your knees are locked and you land on your full weight, there's no time to recover."
Groucho walk. For descents, especially with loads, exaggerate the space-walk technique a bit more and you rather mimic the way Groucho Marx paced as he delivered one-liners: buttocks low, quads and hamstrings as shock absorbers. Your load floats a smooth path no matter how rough the terrain. Your legs must be up to it - and there's really no need to pretend you're tapping the ash from a cigar - but a load not bouncing is ultimately less fatiguing.
CV ankle. This is handy when you are benighted or must keep your eyes otherwise occupied, like when spotting game.An automobile's constant-velocity joint allows the front wheel to bob and turn while remaining attached. Your ankle articulates similarly as long as you keep it shy of spraining. Wear hefty bootsthat support the ankle. Let your feet conform to where they land. Slow is the key.
Sadly, these pure discussions inevitably degenerate into securing the proper gear. Lauren M. Whaley, a journalist, travels the world out of her backpack. Her closet at home runs the gamut from clipless biking shoes tomountaineering boots, but when traveling, she says, "I rely on my running shoes. They're versatile, light and durable. You can walk cities and walk volcanoes in them. The only downside of running shoes is, wherever you go it's a giveaway that you're a tourist."
Though in her 20s, Whaley has had knee surgery and isn't afraid to be seen using what has become the symbol of the older, still-feisty hiker: trekking poles. "I always bring poles, especially for long descents," she says. "The better you are at walking on uneven surfaces, the more beautiful places you'll see."
Travel, Pages 58, 59 on 09/27/2009