Plugged in, Tuned Out

Posted on June 16, 2010 in Encounters Hiking

What’s the point of getting out in nature if you are going to build a coccoon around yourself? This season, I have been hiking the Harding Truck Trail, a wide fire road winding upwards in the Santa Ana Mountains about two miles as the crow flies from my home. That requires a leap over the steep ridge where the Santiago Trail passes. Its steep country: on the north side of the ridge fall plump, rounded cliffs of conglomerate that were once nesting grounds favored by condors. Beyond that are the slightest less steep grassy slopes that the Harding Trail ascends. I walk it three times a week to a picnic table next to a burnt eucalyptus tree.

While Drake and I climb the brutal switchbacks to my favorite overlook, I run into hikers and bikers grinding upwards or rushing down. I always greet these. Sometimes, though, the plugs come out of the ears and the first word out of their mouth is “Eh?”

“Hello,” I repeat.

“Oh, hello.”

“The dog’s friendly.”

“Oh yeah. He looks like a nice dog.” Then the earpieces go back in and they go back into the world they brought with them from the valley.

For me, there’a grand world that must be sensed in every possible way. Flycatchers whistle, sparrows chirp, quail churr, and, in the canyon below, dogs bark. I stop to take in these things along with the view. Oh, they are enjoying the trail in a valid way, some say to me, but is it? Few people stop to take in the view at the burnt tree or to rest at the picnic table. They probably don’t admire the tall sycamores dwarfed by the canyon walls or listen to the hounds calling to each other. They have no clue that this is the season when the scarlet Mexican pinks sneak out of the rocky slopes or look close to see that the white patches on the slopes are meadows of Matilija poppies. They aren’t listening and they probably aren’t looking, either. Are they on the trail or are they just using it as a treadmill?