Following in grandma’s footsteps
How I rediscovered my love of hiking after a dream trek went south
The wild expanses of Patagonia had captured my imagination for decades, and I had long planned a trek to the fabled Mirador Base Las Torres. But now that I was finally here, hiking toward the glittering turquoise lake framed by granite spires in Chile’s Torres del Paine National Park, the reality wasn’t a dream. It felt more like a dismal endurance test with every step.
The fleeting moments of enjoyment along the nine-kilometre uphill climb — drinking from freshwater streams, walking through the cool forest of endemic lenga trees, saying “hola” to the constant flow of fellow hikers on the route — were countered by the realization that something wasn’t quite right.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Although I had trained for months in anticipation of this iconic hike, my gait was leaden and slow. Other hikers passed us with ease. The trail seemed endless, a joyless punishment. After four hours of ascent, I clambered over the final series of boulders, hot tears welling in my eyes at the sight of the spectacular lake and stark grey pillars.
I was crying as much from the stinging 100-km/h gusts of Patagonian wind as from the joy of reaching this long-dreamed-of sight in real life. But my tears were also spilling from sorrow. I wordlessly acknowledged that maybe, at my age, my best trekking years were behind me.
I trace my love of hiking back to my childhood visits with my Swiss grandmother. We would spend a few weeks each summer in the Bernese Alps, hiking through colourful alpine meadows, running down trails criss-crossed by weathered tree roots, and eating chocolate sandwiches that grossmama pulled from the depths of her ancient tan leather backpack.
My grandmother was a force, strict but fair. Dressed in her brown knee-length corduroy hiking skirt, she led my brother and me into the mountains above the small village of Adelboden, teaching us about delicate alpine wildflowers and delicious edible mushrooms.
Like many Swiss, she lived in the city but maintained an alpine chalet where she could escape to the mountains, a tradition she kept into her 80s, declaring that when she couldn’t do it anymore, she would simply stop. She did stop, but only a few years before her passing at 90 in 2006.
The golden trekking memories of my youth inspired countless hiking adventures into my adulthood, some with my own children and partner, including a weeklong trek from Switzerland to Italy to celebrate my 50th birthday.
Upon returning home from Chile and reflecting on the Type 3 fun of my Torres hike (“Didn’t enjoy it, wouldn’t do it again”), I opened one of my childhood photo albums. There I was, in fading grainy shots, kitted out in dubious 1970s and ’80s fashion, standing alongside my grandmother by waterfalls, trails and mountain sides. In those photos, she is older than I am now. I couldn’t imagine her second-guessing herself as I was doing. The Torres hike could not be my last.
Six months after my Patagonia adventures, I found myself in a helicopter ascending towards the Selkirk Mountains in British Columbia’s Kootenay Rockies. I needed to get back on the trail, and an off-grid, guided backcountry hiking trip with Austin Adventures was just the ticket.
Our small group of older outdoor enthusiasts — all seasoned hikers from across the United States, save for me — was brimming with excitement at the chance to explore a new-to-them Canadian hiking route, especially one that isn’t even on AllTrails.
These daily hikes, through green alpine valleys and across steep boulder fields between backcountry huts appropriately named Sunrise, Vista and Sentry, became the cure for what was ailing me.
As I revelled in an easy camaraderie with fellow hikers, and the sights and sounds of majestic mountains and whistling hoary marmots, I remembered a lesson I first learned from my grossmama. The joy is in the journey.
If you can still put one foot in front of the other, it’s a good thing to keep doing it for as long as you can. Just as my grandmother did.