Right here right now

“Yes… but why?”

It was a conversation between myself and another walker, the kind of meandering, exchange that happens over a course of many hours, or days, between breathless hill climbs, camp going-ons, foot strapping and general bushwalking life.

He was talking about the 45km Inca Trail into the sacred and spectacular Inca site of Machu Picchu, from Cusco. Arriving there after four days of hard walking and sleepless nights, he was watching tourists alight from the narrow gauge train that had pulled in from Cusco – a mere four hour trainride away. 

A year later, he asked me the same question he asked himself that day. "Which would I prefer, the cushy four hour train ride, or the four day mountain trek in". He already knew my answer, which was the same as his. So, when I said “the walk in, of course”, he asked “yes… but why?”.

What he was asking was why there should be any greater, or longer-lasting satisfaction in reaching somewhere using your own limbs.

Well firstly, I thought that a walk sounded more like it had more of a chance of adventure and unique experiences. There would be more unknowns on a four day walk – people, sights, sounds, feelings and beauty. In the words of Napolean; Chance is the providence of adventurers.

And then there’s the release of endorphins that we get from any exercise, endorphins being neurotransmitters produced in the brain that reduce pain and make us feel awesome. Not a brain chemistry event that you get from sitting on a train, no matter how comfortable the seats.

But is there something intrinsically worthwhile about being connected physically to the earth on a journey? Creating your own individual path to a place, using your muscles, nerves and heart.

I once went on a bike tour, mostly off road, for a distance of almost 2000km. More than a decade later, I can vividly recall most details of the trip such as the colour and shape of a clump of paper daisies I sat next to at a rest stop; the golden hazy dust on a mountain road; or how cold the ground was that I camped on and the lace-like patterns of frost on my tent; conversations I had with others on the road; the crack! of a snapped derailleur; or how far apart the reflector posts were when battling an intense freezing headwind. These precious memories stay with me always. 

I remember these details because of how much my focus at the time was on the immediate present. The past and future were not required to be held in the mind.

When we walk/ride/climb/swim/sail/crawl/paddle/ski/dance/run/meander or otherwise self-propel through life, we are forever in the moment as this is what is required of us to keep on moving. We are really in the landscape in an immediate sense, rather that passing through the landscape.

So, for me, and for my friend, this is the reason we walk the mountain rather than catch the train, because its about feeling truly alive in the moment. Living the very life of life.

Look to this day! 
For it is life, the very life of life. 
For yesterday is but a dream 
And tomorrow is only a vision 
But today well lived makes every yesterday a dream of happiness 
And tomorrow a vision of hope. 
Look well, therefore, to this day! 
Such is the salutation of the dawn.  
Kalidasa