Why I do not recommend hiking

And how you can successfully avoid it

Last weekend, I was invited by a so-called friend to go hiking. According to him, this would be an ‘ideal’ use of a Sunday afternoon, a ‘great’ exercise to increase bone density and a ‘surefire’ way to fix my bad mood. What he failed to mention is that hiking is also a form of public abuse designed to punish bus-reared urbanites who were foolish enough to leave the city limits, but don’t worry - I survived my ordeal and using an appropriately exhaustive list, I’m going to make sure you never have to experience the same agony that I did.

Reason 1: Oxygen

Like many others, I am a keen advocate for breathing. It’s a shame, then, that hiking so often takes us to places where there is no oxygen whatsoever. The sensation commonly described as ‘personal achievement’ feels a lot to me like respirating through a straw. Why don’t we just tape our nostrils shut? We’d be saving time!

Reason 2: Bugs

In nature, much like in politics, the most revolting species are usually found at the top. If you are fortunate enough not to be canvassed by midges, there is the ever-present chance that you might encounter something that crawls. Did you know that millipedes prefer moist, sheltered environments like, say, a trouser leg? I do. I know all too well.

Reason 3: Chafing

Part of the alleged enjoyment of hiking is in the ‘pain element’. “You know you’re alive when you’re bleeding from the neck down!” My friend exclaims in excitement. I laugh along and pray silently that my nipples will one day regain their feeling.

Reason 4: Self-Reflection 

There’s nothing that angers a millennial more than forced introspection. The last thing I want to do, when I’m at the peak of an unpronounceable Welsh mountain, is to process the violent death of my brother’s pet terrapin. If I wanted to use my brain, I’d delete Instagram.

Reason 5: The Danger of a Good Time 

The final and perhaps most dangerous hazard of them all is the remote possibility that you might actually enjoy your hike. Then, before you know it, you’re wearing Peruvian jumpers, drinking prune juice and, like a golden retriever, developing an eye for good sticks.

If, like me, you instead desire a life of ignorance, carbohydrates and terrible bone density, then this is an activity better ignored. Especially during millipede season. Now, does anyone have Savlon?