The Walk of Life.

Few things are as natural as perambulation. We almost instinctively celebrate an infant’s first unassisted steps, and even if the child is not related to you, there is a small burst of celebratory cheer in your heart at the news that the baby is now walking.
From a pudgy-legged, unsteady gait to a flying run down neighborhood sidewalks, our body’s ability learn how to walk and then begin to run is a fascinating bit of growth. The only aspect of development more interesting is that of language.
For most adults, the idea of moving from one place to another is unconscious. We don’t think about going into the kitchen to warm up our coffee or  stepping outside to the workshop to get a tool. We become so indoctrinated with the simplicity of walking that we don’t even think about doing it.
Perhaps the greatest example of this ease of motion comes on the trail. Initially, as you get used to the weight of the pack, and settle into the rugged terrain, you may feel very cognizant of your steps. After a bit of time, though, the walking goes on a sort of autopilot, and you raise your eyes and observe the world. As you go, your body descends into a meditation of sorts. The mind thrives in this movement. The parts of the brain that work behind the scenes are occupied and there is mental clarity.
However we wish to define this reality of physical movement; whether it is simply a natural state for humans to move long distances on our legs, or if it is just an accident of our current world environment that we need to get into the wilderness and move to get away from all the distractions and extra stimuli, walking is a natural calming activity.
As I walk in the woods, I always picture a group of ancient humans, clad in rough-spun clothes with spears or short knives and sacks on their backs moving through the wildernesses of that world, eyes peeled and heads swiveling. It would be necessary for ancient humans to move long distances from time to time to keep up with game, to avoid unpleasant weather or even to stay near a steady supply of fuel to keep warm.
This group, as large as one hundred individuals, made up of young and old, male and female, would travel great distances as long as the sun was up. They wouldn’t stop to rest or eat. They would move until nightfall, when it became necessary to stop and build a fire. Hunting parties would join the group at that time, and bring game, if they could find it.
Some anthropologists now believe that ancient man could cover huge distances in one day, moving a very fast walking pace. Their entire physiology was based on their ability to walk or trot. The scarcity of food and the prevalence of large carnivores made it necessary for ancient humans to go days without sufficient nutrients, but still accomplish great feats of physicality.
I tend to imagine this while we walk in the woods. I pretend that Harmon and I are ancient hunters, walking into the deep wilderness to bring back game for our group. We are still living off the stores of fat and calories from the last kill, but we need more. So we set off into the deep wilderness. Heads down, looking for ‘game sign’, we imagine the aroma of meat roasting around a campfire, fat dripping and cracking in the fire. Unbeknownst to either of us, a large cougar or mountain lion has been stalking us for several miles.
It’s an odd fantasy to be sure, but it’s one that pervades my mind as we walk recreationally. It’s hard not to think about a time when mankind walked out of necessity. When the ability to walk meant the difference between life and death, food, fuel and fire, starving and freezing.
We take our ability to walk for granted everyday. It helps to think about walking from time to time, to remember how much each of us depends on it for survival, even now in these modern times, we still need to do the Walk of Life.