Hiking Along: A Feminist's Journey Through Teaching, Parenting & Outdoor Adventure

Dear B & V, Have I contributed to the degradation of this place I’ve loved for so long? Maybe degradation is a hyperbole but this word expresses the depth of my feelings. However in reality, my favorite park hasn't been destroyed nor do I have the hand of god to cause her degradation.  Change has occurred though to her natural space to alter my feelings about this place. Now when I hike the intimacy of her valley walls, my feelings turn to sadness, frustration and disappointment. Where once there was a single track hugging her stream banks, there is now a network of trails that spider, interlacing each other up and down her walls. Where once the species that make her valley home, she is now invaded by our lazy, man-made foot paths cutting through her living room. Where once there were blue, blazed trees standing erect adjacent to her trails, they are now toppled by the compaction of hundreds of daily tread strikes on her soil. Where once numerous wildflowers car...

"No! Go!" I yelled. I repeated it, this time intensifying my volume. There was something about this blonde-furred, blue-eyed, unattached dog that caused the warning bells to sound in my head. Maybe it was increased levels of cortisol pulsing through my body due to weeks of stress. It was likely both. I turned with Fern and walked backwards, keeping my blue eyes on its until this unaccompanied dog stopped on the trail. I pivoted and hiked quickly back towards the trailhead a little less than a mile away. I climbed the hill and then heard the jiggle of tags and the crunch of leaves behind me. My head snapped back. The dog had followed us. I yelled, "No! Go!" And again. I continued up the hill with my heart pounding, my breathe short, sweat pouring down my back and panic. "Why is this dog following us?" It wasn't just following us down the trail but through the woods in a sneaky way. Was this real? This scenario continued for the remainder ...