The Knees May Creak; the Brain Shouldn’t

Having not-as-limber-as-they-used-be creaky knees is not the only problem I have when it comes to hiking. Having a creaky brain can be a problem too.

I am the King of the Ill-Advised Hike. The common-sense, follow-them-if-you-want-to-live guidelines that Northwest hiking guru Seabury Blair Jr. emphasizes in the Be Careful section of all of his Day Hike! and Creaky Knees guides are things my friends and I always ignored when we set out on hikes. An adequate supply of water? Nah, no need—there will no doubt be a drinking fountain along the trail. First-aid kit? Only dorks carry those—do we look like klutzes? A topographic map of the trail? Hey, up is up, down is down, and we’ll remember the route we hiked in on . . . etc., etc.

The result, predictably, has been a number of hikes that were unpleasant at best, and injurious or life-periling at worst:

One hike in the hills of Berkeley, California, ended with me stepping in a ditch I couldn’t see in the pitch blackness because we thought “we don’t need a light source—it’s not dark now” when we started. I endured two days of excruciating pain and torn cartilage in my left knee to show for that one.

Another time, only a tense argument followed by a triumph of democracy (two of the three of us voted to turn back while we still had a bit of daylight) between the hikers saved us from getting lost in the darkness far from the main trail on a brisk winter evening on Mt. Tamalpais in Marin County, California, when we had, of course, zero provisions. I suppose we would have survived the night, but to this day, I can still visualize the headline that could have appeared if we’d made the wrong decision: BODIES OF THREE IDIOT HIKERS AIRLIFTED OFF MT. TAM.

I don’t even want to think about the time a family member urged the others to hike from a vista point at the Grand Canyon to the base of the canyon on a whim one very hot September afternoon—again with absolutely no plan, map, or provisions. (For once, I wasn’t that family member.) Fortunately, that whim passed or the family threatened to throw the one who suggested the idea into the canyon; I forget which.

The belabored point I’m trying to make is merely that tired or aging limbs are not the only obstacles to invigorating, enriching, safe hikes. The biggest obstacle is often the muscle located within the skull. And the deft, entertaining way that is addressed is one of my favorite things about Seabury’s hiking guides, the latest of which is The Creaky Knees Guide Oregon. It’s the second of his books offering shorter, less-punishing “half-day” hikes for those with physical limitations that make longer, more challenging hikes impossible—or who would rather take a lighter stroll that emphasizes beautiful scenery and other visual rewards instead of mountain goat–like climbing skills.

The Creaky Knees Guide Oregon, like all of Seabury’s guides, is written in an entertaining, casual style that is like a friend talking to the reader, sharing stories and vital information. His tales from his own hiking experiences are often laugh-out-loud funny, but always with a point. He’ll tell you the sights and sounds to look out for to best enjoy the hike; with his detailed descriptions of the trails, signposts, and landmarks, you won’t have to worry about getting lost and missing the beautiful waterfall because you turned left instead of right at the junction with the spur trail. The hikes—eighty in all, including four urban trails—featuring all distances, hiking times, elevation gains, effort ratings, best seasons to hike, permit information, GPS trailhead coordinates, and topographic maps. In addition, hikes that allow—or are especially ideal for—children and dogs are identified.

And Seabury knows it’s no laughing matter to prepare thoroughly for even the most benign-seeming hike. In addition to “The 10 Essentials” that no hiker should be without, he describes weather and wildlife considerations that hikers should always be aware of (do you know the right thing to do if a mountain lion confronts you?). In his specific hike descriptions, if there’s a particularly hazardous or physically challenging section, he’ll tell you about it. These hikes are intended to be exhilarating and refreshing—not survivalist treks filled with surprises and danger. Seabury went out and risked his own limbs so you wouldn’t have to!

We haven’t even talked about the geography this new Creaky Knees book covers—the vast, fascinating state of Oregon, that’s what. Everything on the beautiful extended coast from Astoria to Whalehead Cove, the Columbia River Gorge, Mount Hood, Central Oregon, more remote corners of the state, and urban trails in Portland, Salem, Corvallis, and Eugene. Even the most ambitious creaky-kneed hiker will need years to try all these hikes!

I know I’m itching to try them myself. And thanks to Seabury Blair’s terrific new The Creaky Knees Guide Oregon, for once my brain is going to be as ready for these hikes as I think my legs are.