The Case Against Hiking, As Written by an Avid Hiker
Feb 27, 2026
5min read
I’ve spent most of my life on the trails. My boots have more miles on them than my car, and my social media feed is mostly just photos of trees and rocks. But as we move through 2026, I have a confession to make: I’m starting to hate hiking.
Before you throw your carbon-fiber trekking poles at me, hear me out. In the last few years, the way we experience the outdoors has changed. It used to be about getting away from everything. Now, it feels like we’re just bringing the noise of the city into the woods.
First, let’s talk about the crowds. With the new 2026 digital trail permits, you’d think things would be organized. Instead, every popular path feels like a packed subway station. You’re constantly stepping aside for someone’s filming drone or waiting in line to take a photo at a viewpoint. The solitude we’re all looking for doesn't really exist anymore when you have to book your spot three months in advance just to walk on dirt.
Then there’s the tech. I love my smart glasses as much as anyone, but do I really need a screen showing me my heart rate, the exact climb percentage, and the names of every plant I walk past? It turns a peaceful walk into a video game. We’ve become so obsessed with tracking our stats and closing our activity rings that we’ve forgotten how to just feel the wind or smell the trees. We are constantly looking at data instead of the world around us.
Also, the pressure is exhausting. In 2026, there is this weird competition to find the secret spots that haven't been tagged in the global AR maps yet. But the moment you find one, the instinct is to share it immediately to prove you were there. It’s a cycle that ruins the very thing we say we love. We are over-using these natural spaces until there is nothing quiet left.
Sometimes, the best thing you can do for yourself—and for the environment—is to stay home. Put down the gear, turn off the GPS, and just sit in your backyard or a local park. You don’t need to climb a massive mountain to find peace. In fact, in 2026, the real adventure might just be learning how to be still without a tracker recording it.
Before you throw your carbon-fiber trekking poles at me, hear me out. In the last few years, the way we experience the outdoors has changed. It used to be about getting away from everything. Now, it feels like we’re just bringing the noise of the city into the woods.
First, let’s talk about the crowds. With the new 2026 digital trail permits, you’d think things would be organized. Instead, every popular path feels like a packed subway station. You’re constantly stepping aside for someone’s filming drone or waiting in line to take a photo at a viewpoint. The solitude we’re all looking for doesn't really exist anymore when you have to book your spot three months in advance just to walk on dirt.
Then there’s the tech. I love my smart glasses as much as anyone, but do I really need a screen showing me my heart rate, the exact climb percentage, and the names of every plant I walk past? It turns a peaceful walk into a video game. We’ve become so obsessed with tracking our stats and closing our activity rings that we’ve forgotten how to just feel the wind or smell the trees. We are constantly looking at data instead of the world around us.
Also, the pressure is exhausting. In 2026, there is this weird competition to find the secret spots that haven't been tagged in the global AR maps yet. But the moment you find one, the instinct is to share it immediately to prove you were there. It’s a cycle that ruins the very thing we say we love. We are over-using these natural spaces until there is nothing quiet left.
Sometimes, the best thing you can do for yourself—and for the environment—is to stay home. Put down the gear, turn off the GPS, and just sit in your backyard or a local park. You don’t need to climb a massive mountain to find peace. In fact, in 2026, the real adventure might just be learning how to be still without a tracker recording it.
