If hiking was a spectator sport

I used to be a hiker. I was proud of this fact. A good day was 15 miles on the trail with thousands of feet of climbing. I was tough. Now even though I require no joint replacements, I mostly watch hiking. No, hiking is not usually considered a spectator sport but I like to think that I am breaking new ground being the only person in the world that watches hiking.

Like most bad ideas, this was not an intentional choice. My Man bought a house that sits near a popular hiking trail. The house was purchased for its views which offer vistas of town that will having you feeling like you are looking at LA, not a midsized town in the desert southwest. It is precisely these views and the canyon that sits behind us that are the reason this is an attractive hike.

My Man considered the trail a drawback to the house when he was initially looking. Who wants strangers marching by your property all day? But after moving in, we discovered the street is otherwise very quiet and the neighbors have all the social skills of sloths. The house sits on a cul de sac at the far edge of the neighborhood and the only person that comes by occasionally is the garbageman.

We make up for it with a parade of hikers. The trail is about 100 meters away but due to the acoustics, we can hear them coming long before we see them. Their screeching laughter filter up from the wash below the house. But then by some trick of nature their sound dies as they start to climb up a small rise where we are able to see them for a short stretch before they continue their journey back into the canyon. From the patio we can see well enough how people are dressed and what they are carrying but without the ability to pick someone out from a line up. The small gully and thick, thorny scrub in between make it unlikely that they are going to choose to swing by for a visit but offers a chance to discreetly watch from a safe distance as if they were grizzly bears not geriatric hikers.

Sitting on my usual perch on the patio, I can watch innumerable numbers of people in varying states of preparation embark on this hike. There is the guy who has a full pack for his 5 mile hike and poles as well as the REI issued cargo pants. There is the dad with the giant baby carrier on his back and a four-year-old by the hand. There is runner in tiny shorts, no shirt and a water pack who decided to pick one of the busiest trails to practice his high speed intervals. My personal favorite is the couple who clearly came with different expectations.  He is in shorts, t-shirt and tennis shoes. She is dressed to shop with a cute skirt, flip flops and giant purse. These are not our repeat customers. By the time hikers pass us, they are only about 400 meters in and clearly still feeling optimistic with the exception being the children which, based on their crying, would suggest that they are already done.

The trail heads back into the canyon for about three miles before becoming very steep and rocky. It is possible to continue all the way to the peak, cross a saddle and come down the other side of the ridge in order to exit out another canyon. It is a stunning hike that few tread because it is not for the faint of heart. Therefore, most of these people return the way they came. I watch all these people heading up and down making bets on how long it will be before they return.

This has lead to a great deal of anxiety in my life. Some of these people insist on heading up unprepared and this is coming from someone that routinely goes with minimal preparation into the woods. But still, I watch people dressed head to toe in black start their hike at mid day during the Arizona summer. Some head out at dusk and I wonder if they are prepared for the imminent darkness. Others just seem lost and they have only made it 400 meters in. This does not bode well.

There is nothing I can do for these people. I am too far away to yell anything helpful like, “You idiot! go home!”  I can only watch them tempt fate from afar. But still this leaves me with the much less productive job of worrying about them. There they go, heading up a dry canyon in the heat of the day and now I must sit and wait to be sure that they make it back down. I am the most useless guardian angel ever.

I can just imagine the call to search and rescue:

Hello

Hi, I want to report that there is a hiker on the trail behind my house.

Okay, what is the problem?

I don’t know. He went up but I haven’t seen him come back.

What time was he suppose to return?

I have no idea.

Where was he headed?

I have no idea.

Do you know this person.

No.

Why are you calling?

Well, I really need to go to the grocery store so I need someone else to check on him.

There is such a fine line between helpful and stalker these days.

Sometimes the people just come up to the rise and sit to watch the sunset. It seems romantic enough. Occasionally this includes a photographer to take photos of the couple. Most recently we observed one such trio but it had a very Halloween twist. After first it looked like an engagement shoot where the couple appeared to be posing in various configurations of kneeling on one knee and looking up at the other. Aw, how cute! But then it got weird.

The couple put pumpkins on their heads and repeated the now practiced poses. It was hard to mistake the large orange pumpkins for anything but what they were but for the first time, My Man went to grab the binoculars. I needed more information.

Indeed, this was a pumpkin head that I presumed might have been foam as these were removed and put back on repeatedly. The process was some sort of dramatization but it got increasingly hard to tell if it was supposed to be romantic or morbid. And this is when I wish there was a volume button so that I could in fact hear what was happening.

Still it seems like one of those things that if I knew what was actually happening I would be very disappointed. Maybe just a baby announcement? Adding another little pumpkin to our patch! Perhaps pumpkin heads just aren’t as scary as clowns?

Instead, I went down a rabbit hole online only to find that this is a whole trend. There were so many examples of pumpkin head photoshoots. While it wasn’t as horrifying as, say, wrapping yourself in a bloody carcass, it did seem odd. Yet I could see the appeal. If you hate having your picture taken, maybe it really does open some doors to getting those pesky family photos done. If someone can’t show up, just find a stranger willing to put on a pumpkin head and call it good enough. This fall I will be eating my pie with a whole new appreciation for the many uses of the mighty pumpkin.

As fall moves into winter, I do hope that there will be more costumed hikers. I look forward to Santa or the Easter Bunny. They will be so much easier to describe when I call 911 to report that a leprechaun has gone missing. I am sure they will get right on that.