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The Cost of An Afternoon Hike

By Karin Becker

Found in: | Outside | Hiking |

Rain clouds hover to the east and the valley below fills with clouds of cotton puffs, yet the heat concentrates on this mountain's face and I'm glad to be hiking in the shade of the pines. Sky pilot, sweet peas, black-eyed susans and whipple penstemons bloom out of the soft dirt along with lush gamble oak.
Hiking, I realize, is an act of composition. One foot in front of the other is like stringing one thought to another. Before long, a ridge is ascended and with steady progress a mountain summit is gained - a connection is made. Despite the wild beauty saturating my senses, my mind begins to fill with cold, clean numbers.
Thanks to an economy in recession, Americans see numbers piling up in front of them. Things are changing. Car companies no longer boast of models that can accelerate 0 to 60 mph in five seconds. They now brag about models that get good gas mileage! Rising food prices, falling home values, and the Environmental Protection Agency has lowered the value of a human life to be $6.9 million, down nearly a million bucks from five years ago. We survived the politics of an election year, but there seems to be no escaping the barrage of computing everything in terms of dollars. Numbers, more numbers!
It actually works for me because I think in terms of numbers. I can't help but compute costs, assessing every transaction to determine whether I got a deal. And recently, I started computing recreational time in dollar values, too.
When a friend called last summer when oil prices peaked and invited me to go for a walk in town, I carefully weighed the offer: 30 miles roundtrip in an SUV that guzzles 20 mpg at $4.02 per gallon makes that walk cost a bit more than $6.
Considering my low salary, that walk is expensive. I have the luxury of walking out my front door where a half mile down the road is a trailhead that connects to a trail I could follow to Denver. What would I pay for this priceless opportunity if I couldn't access it for free?
Thinking like a travel agent, I could package this experience around a bed-and-breakfast concept, complete with the amenity of hiking off my front porch. Considering an average rate of $100 a night, and figuring that my mortgage equates to $50 a night, that would mean I'm banking $50 less the cost of coffee and pastries. I could tack on a surcharge to see stunning wildflowers, grand sweeping vistas and fire-licked slopes. Add another surcharge for the opportunity to experience them in quiet privacy.
A friend from Boulder reminds me of how wonderful and rare it is to go on a hike without seeing cars packing a trailhead parking lot, without hearing dog owners yelling after dogs or dutifully greeting waves of hikers. I have that wonderful and rare opportunity out my front door, so what is it worth?
Although it is impossible to assign a value to this treasure, it is a good practice for my mind to compute the priceless. In a practical way, it helps me move beyond worrying about my modest income and to care more for the value of what is appreciated every day outside my home. I could add the sum to my pay stub, like a tip. I'm rich!
In these trying economic times, it cannot hurt to realize the value of what is in front of us. Just as pride of ownership trumps a home value, pride of our nearby natural opportunity enhances our quality of life. When I receive my next paycheck, I'm going to see a few extra zeros to the left of the decimal point.

Karin Becker is eager to lace up her hiking boots, strap on the baby backpack and walk out her front door to explore her backyard wilderness.