Around the States in Ninety Days: Day 35

Hiking

Let me tell you something about hiking that none of those outdoorsy types want you to know:

It's just walking.

Right, now that's out of the way, let's talk about me hiking (this is, after all, all about me me me)

I am terrified of hiking. I also love it. I'm conflicted, I know. Ah, the drama.

This time of year, when there is hardly anyone else around, hiking should be a beautiful thing. And it is, which is why I love it. On the other hand, with nobody around, I figure I am increasing my odds of being eaten by a bear by a factor of however many people are not there. (Feel free to check my math) I also reeeeeally want to see a bear though the reality of it scares me to death.

As an example, today I went on a lovely 2h hike (walk) near Lake Taggart in Grand Teton National Park. I went to Grand Teton because of the amazing mountains which apparently rise from the ground in a breathtaking near vertical fashion. I say "apparently" because I saw no mountains. None. Diddlysquat. Now, I'm not saying they weren't there (it'd be a pretty contrived prank spanning several guidebooks, a couple of rangers and my cousin if that was the case) but I did not see them because they were hiding behind what I can only describe as a wall o' cloud. Anyway, I digress.

Before going on this hike I had spoken to a few different people who all warned me about the moose and bears that might try to kill me on my otherwise pleasant walk. I was told repeatedy that I needed to avoid surprising them and that the best way to do this was to make as much noise as possible. I'd read somewhere that you should sing and somewhere else that you should shout "hey bear!" every few steps. Silly, right?

Picture this - I'm in the woods, it's snowing, I'm really scared.

They say if you come across a bear on the trail you should avoid it - how exactly?

I decide making noise is maybe not such a bad idea, after all, I'm not here to hunt. I start off by singing some classic Christmas songs, then as I get more out of breath from the hiking, just lalalaing (still to my Christmas tunes) and eventually (you guessed) shouting "HEY BEAR!!" every few steps. (As if the sound of me galumphing down the mountain wouldn't be enough to send every bear within five miles into early hibernation) (Mind you, if I was about to hibernate for three months, I'd eat me)

A recent study from the University of Westminster found that the adrenaline rush of watching horror films can burn up to 184 calories. By my estimates, taking into account my pathetically low threshold for frights (my brother once made me pee my pants just by knocking on a door) I reckon every time I go for a hike I should scoff a couple of Snickers just to be sure I don't waste away halfway round.

Needless to say, I was not eaten. I hope you're not too disappointed.