Hiking and writing | Cherry Odelberg

I have been hiking twice today, which bodes well for my thoughts being clear and wise. When I keep putting one foot in front of the other, sooner or later the snarls I’ve been dwelling on begin to smooth out.

Today I am hiking at an elevation of 8,000 feet in one of my favorite places in the world. For several years I have been daydreaming about what it would be like to live and write here in this quaint little historic mining town. It is unfortunate the words quaint and historic often equate to a high cost of living. Blue skies and outdoor recreation inevitably mean more tourists and costly, limited housing.

Nowadays, I make more than I have ever made in my life. But, there is inflation. And I am single. I am quite comfortable in my singleness, but these days it is cost prohibitive to live alone. One must either take a roommate or a spouse. (This is true for men as well as women). I find myself thinking more and more about Jane Austen plots; the plight of the single gentlewoman, the inequities of entailing estates only to male heirs and leaving (formerly wealthy) widows penniless. But hey, I’ve never been wealthy. It just felt like it for a moment once I had charge of my own finances and income.

On Friday I successfully pre-enrolled in Medicare. The woman conducting the enrollment interview over the phone also advised me of my expected Social Security benefits. If I wait to retire until the full retirement age of 66, I will receive a monthly benefit great enough to pay for 97% of my current rent for a studio apartment. Medicare will cover 80% of any hospital stay. One wonders about the extra 3% for rent, and the extra 20% should I ever have to go to the hospital – and food – where does food fit in? No worries, she placated me, once I am 66 I can earn as much as I want each month without being penalized.

I’ve been thinking less and less about retirement these days and more and more about how I can land a job or launch a business that will make retirement possible – eventually.

I don’t want to feel trapped by any job or lack of money – or bound to any source of money. I do want freedom. Freedom to hike and write, and make music, and travel and love, and give and share. Most of all, freedom to do all these things without financial stress. That’s a tall order. One that takes copious hikes and hours spent at a piano to work through – as well as extra time spent at work for pay.

“I love to go a wandering, along the mountain path; and as I go, I love to sing, my knapsack on my back.” Who hasn’t chortled that song at the top of their lungs whilst trekking with a group of young people? Though I have grown older, I am nothing if not a happy wanderer.

So often the things we love most to do in life dovetail. Hiking and Music. That’s the perfect combination for me. Hiking. Writing about it. Writing a musical about it. Even better.

Nowadays I don’t often sing while hiking. Silence is better in the great outdoors. I embrace it. I think better in solitude. But there are times a tune whistled or hummed is just the right thing to get you through a narrow passage, barren stretch, or energize you for extra effort.

I have learned something about hiking along the Colorado River or its tributary canyons: There be willows – sometimes tamarisk – in riparian areas and sand bars. Willows and tamarisk can slap you, lash you and poke your eyes out.

Further up White Canyon from Sipapu Natural Bridge, the willows tower above my head, yet in the undergrowth, the trail is clear. The animals who regularly roam these paths are short, maybe coyotes. And there, on the wildlife path, I discovered a new way to wield my hiking pole.

Keep your hand at the level of your eye, may be a famous line from Phantom of the Opera but it’s also the latest principle I learned while putting one foot in front of the other.

Take your staff by the hilt, but still pointing down. Now salute with your fist in front of your nose, thumb on forehead, fist, pole and forearm vertical. You can now see around either side of your fist, your walking pole will part the willows from your forehead to your knees and you just might come out of the brush free of most lashes and scratches and without your eyes smarting.

Cue marching music. Let’s go a wandering, friends, with our hand at the level of our eyes

Cherry Odelberg

Tag Archives: Hiking and writing

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