My personal preference for hiking, and exercise in general, is “the colder, the better”. However, most people I know avoid outdoor activity when they feel it is too cold, and think it strange that anyone would want to go hiking in the middle of winter. So is there any truth in the belief that it can be too cold for exercise?

I found some enlightenment recently in a New York Times article titled “Too Cold to Exercise? Try Another Excuse“, in which some cold weather exercise myths are dispelled by experts. Some relevant points from the article are:

• Lungs are not damaged by cold - by the time cold air reaches your lungs, it is at body temperature
• Cold air does not induce asthma - airways narrow in response to the dryness of the air, not its temperature
• Our bodies do not need to acclimatize to cold, as they do to heat
• Unfitness is not an obstacle to coping with cold - the physically fit are no better at adaptating to cold than the sedentary
• More people are injured exercising in the heat than exercising in the cold

A little bit of snow, cold,
wind and poor visibility
didn’t stop this fellow
going out for a walk

The concensus among the doctors and exercise physiologists interviewed was that it is never too cold to exercise. Cold-weather risks like hypothermia and frostbite can be avoided with appropriate clothing and common sense. Ironically this includes not overdressing - sweat soaked clothes can lead to chilling. As children are taught in Sweden: “There is no bad weather, only bad clothing“.

My own experiences affirm this. The middle of winter is my favourite time for hiking the Bibbulmun Track, in shorts and T-shirt regardless of how cold it is (I just rug up at night). I’ve hiked happily in New Zealand’s south island in winter, been camping in -10 degrees in Australia, and enjoyed winter walks in the Canadian winter in temperatures below -20 (with wind). By dressing appropriately I’ve done all this in much greater comfort than any walk on a hot day.

Eskimos have lived safely with cold for millenia, and numerous explorers and researchers have survived outdoors in Antarctic winters. The temptation to avoid exercise on chilly days in more temperate climates probably has more to do with comfort, convenience and personal taste than safety. I’ll certainly be continuing my winter outdoor activities, reassured that it really is never too cold to exercise.

It’s that time of year again. Spring has sprung, and Perth’s bushwalkers will be dusting off their boots and venturing outdoors again. Multitudes will soon start hiking the Bibbulmun Track, and I’ll be scratching my head, wondering why.

I love hiking the Bibbulmun Track too, but for me winter is the obvious season to do it. The weather is cool enough to do some serious walking without frying or drowning in sweat. Campsite rainwater tanks abound with fresh clean water. Little water needs to be carried because it is so readily available near much of the track. Venomous snakes are nowhere to be seen, mosquitoes are minimal, and flies … what flies?

With the track also bare of humans, the shelters along the track are never full, so the tent can be left at home. There is room to spread out, never a queue for the pit toilets, and no competition for space at the picnic tables. Then there’s the refreshing peace and quiet. Many find that the solitude of winter raises their enjoyment of the natural environment to a higher level - there’s nothing like having an entire national park all to yourself.

Why then do most people avoid hiking until spring? It might make sense in a cold climate, but we don’t have a cold climate. People speak of spring’s warmth, but that only increases sweating and the need to carry more water. It rains less, but with the influx of walkers that leads to water tanks running low, and the water becoming less than fresh. Snakes - all of them venomous - become active, mosquitoes worsen, and flies return to drive walkers mad. Wildflowers flourish - pretty, but no fun for hay fever and allergy sufferers. Crowds on the track diminish the sense of wilderness, and it becomes necessary to carry a tent in case the shelters are full. Even if they’re not, competition for space - and use of the toilet - can detract from the experience.

As I put away my hiking boots (figuratively speaking) until next winter, people who put their boots away for the winter are getting them out. It’s a sort of changing of the guard, like the winter shift going off duty as the spring shift clocks on.

It doesn’t make much sense to me, but it suits me just fine. The spring crowds are happy to hike in the warm weather, and I’m happy to let them, enjoying peace and quiet in the cool comfort of winter. It reminds me just how different we all are, and how well this can work out.

The human body is full of surprises. Just a month ago I had no idea that you could lose a toenail, other than by being tortured. Then one of my own nails decided to drop off, opening my eyes further to the wonders of our bodies’ capacity for self-repair.

It all started with a 48km walk. My boots were probably a little too snug to begin with, but with the addition of an extra sock layer and feet that are enlarging slightly with age, the result was squashing of the little pinky toe on my biggest foot. Once the pain and blistering eased, I noticed the toenail had come loose, attached only at the rear end.

A quick check in Google revealed that toenails loosening and falling out are not uncommon among serious runners and hikers. In fact many comments in runners forums suggest you’re not a real runner (or hiker) until you’ve lost a nail or two, as if it were an initiation into a higher level. I read of one person who, having lost all his toenails, not only kept them as souvenirs but had a necklace made out of them … with extra toenails donated by others! Despite my tendency to collect things like navel lint and beard clippings, I draw the line at toenails.

Fortunately, when an injured toenail detaches, a new one grows in its place within six months with minimal discomfort. I know its a trivial complaint compared to the medical traumas that so many others suffer, but I still find it a little unsettling that something thats always been there can just loosen and drop off. Unsettling, yet the body’s ability to eject and regrow a damaged part strangely fascinates me. We are well-designed creatures.

Being squeamish, I’ve just had my doomed toenail removed properly by a podiatrist. As I watch it regrow over the coming months I’ll console myself with the thought that my credibility as a hiker may have increased!

If you’re really keen, that toenail necklace can be seen by clicking here.

Carrying a lighter load makes a trip more enjoyable for many reasons, but how can the average over-packer reduce the burden? The internet abounds with specific packing tips, but these five strategies sum up how I’ve put my own luggage on a successful diet.

1. Use a packing list

To most this may sound like a mundane and time-consuming chore, which may explain why most people don’t bother. However, if you’re serious about reducing weight by travelling with as little as possible, it is perhaps the most important tip of all. Having a list ensures that nothing important is forgotten, but more importantly ensures that nothing unnecessary is packed. Creating a list makes you evaluate each item thoughtfully, avoiding the temptation to just throw things in willy-nilly when packing at the last minute. A list can also be evaluated at the end of a trip - adjustments made, unused items crossed out - to make packing even quicker and more efficient next time.

I’ve been using packing lists for over ten years and have never regretted a single minute spent modifying them (spreadsheets work well). By knowing what I took last time, and what didn’t get used, I’ve progressively reduced the weight of my hiking backpack from 25kg down to 12kg which includes food, fuel and tent (as pictured). For me, that’s the difference between enduring a hike and enjoying it!

2. Leave stuff behind

My biggest weight reductions have been achieved not by reducing the weight of an item, or taking a lighter alternative, but by leaving something out altogether. This is easiest done when you have a packing list, and for each item you ask yourself “can I do without it?” (or, after a trip, “what could I have left behind?”).

For cooking on camping trips, do you really need more than a single pot and spoon? Plates, bowls, knives and forks can all be left at home if you plan meals differently. Do you need to take a heavy guidebook, or can you just borrow one from a library before the trip and make notes? The benefits can compound as leaving out one item can make others unnecessary. For example, by deciding not to take my own supply of coffee, I was also able to leave behind powdered milk, sugar, their containers, and the cup that I no longer needed to drink coffee out of.

3. Substitute lighter alternatives

Many common travel items have lightweight equivalents. If you need to take cutlery, use Lexan plastic utensils instead of stainless steel. Specialist camping shops sell small quick-dry towels that are much lighter and less bulky than what you use at home. Modern LED torches are a fraction of the size and weight of those containing incandescent globes. A giant standard umbrella can be replaced with a small travel umbrella that fits in a back pocket. And if you reduce your overall packing enough, a smaller and lighter bag can be carried. You name it, there is probably somebody selling a lightweight equivalent … for a price (note that omitting something altogether can save money as well as weight).

4. Take reduced quantities

Instead of throwing in full sized containers of travel supplies, give some thought to how much you will actually need and transfer the appropriate amounts to smaller containers. For example, don’t take a full 200ml bottle of shampoo if 40ml of shampoo transferred to a small plastic container will suffice. Find a miniature soap or a half used bar rather than a full sized bar of soap. Take a partially used tube of toothpaste that contains enough for your trip, rather than a full tube. If taking a guidebook, and it’s your own copy, consider removing the pages you will need and leaving the rest at home. A lot of small weight savings can really add up.

5. Use quick-dry easy-care clothing, and keep it to a minimum

Specialist camping and travel shops boast an abundance of modern easy-care clothing which can be rinsed in a hand basin (or under the shower) and dried overnight without creasing. Using such clothing minimises what you need to take, as you don’t need a supply of fresh clothes to sustain you between laundromat visits. In fact you may not need to visit a laundromat at all, which is a big timesaver. Last year I survived an eight-week trip with only two pairs of underpants, three pairs of socks, two sets of thermal underwear (it was winter), two shirts, and one pair of long trousers, plus jumper and jacket which I didn’t wash.

The above are my top five general strategies for travelling light, and have served me well. Much more information, specific tips and useful links can be found at the One Bag (lightweight general travel) and Lightweight Backpacking and Hiking websites. Also I’m sure many readers will have tips of thir own.

I was motivated to write this by a competition at the ProBlogger.net website, where a cash prize was offered to a randomly chosen writer of a blog post on the “top 5″ theme. Judging by the many responses from other writers, the offer of a cash prize is a good remedy for writer’s block! I plan to post my favourite (top 5?) entries here soon.

It’s not often I read fiction that really stirs me up like this did. It’s from “The White Silence“, a short story by Jack London. He refers to the extreme cold and profound silence he encountered in the Klondike winter …

Nature has many tricks wherewith she convinces man of his finity - the ceaseless flow of the tides, the fury of the storm, the shock of the earthquake, the long roll of heaven’s artillery - but the most tremendous, the most stupefying of all, is the passive phase of the White Silence. All movement ceases, the sky clears, the heavens are as brass; the slightest whisper seems sacrilege, and man becomes timid, affrighted at the sound of his own voice. Sole speck of life journeying across the ghostly wastes of a dead world, he trembles at his audacity, realizes that his is a maggot’s life, nothing more.
Strange thoughts arise unsummoned, and the mystery of all things strives for utterance.
And the fear of death, of God, of the universe, comes over him - the hope of the Resurrection and the Life, the yearning for immortality, the vain striving of the imprisoned essence - it is then, if ever, man walks alone with God.

I haven’t experienced the Arctic North like Jack London did, but I’ve had a taste of what he was writing about. It was on the main range of Australia’s Snowy Mountains in the winter of 2001. My main campsite is pictured here, see my Snowy Mountains page for other photos.

Snow-camping above the tree line - all vegetation and life buried under a blanket of snow, even the rocks plastered with ice. Under a clear sky, with stars blazing in the dry cold air, the temperature plummeted and the silence became overwhelming. With not even an insect to disturb the air, the sound of my blood circulating became audible in a feeble attempt to fill the sound vacuum. I’ve experienced the quietness of calm nights at home, but the still calm of the snowy wilderness took peaceful silence to a new level.

Hiking to Mt Kosciusko with snow shoes on a calm day brought another profound white silence. As the only speck of life in a sterile soundness expanse, I felt small and vulnerable … but in a refreshing and cleansing sort of way. The absence of sound and colour, plus the hypnotic rhythm of walking, certainly got the thoughts working in ways not possible in a more noisy world. As Jack London says, “it is then, if ever, man walks alone with God” - and I felt like I was.

Reading of Jack London’s white silence made me want to ride a dog sled up the frozen Klondike, but we can’t all visit the Arctic, or the Snowy Mountains, or a desert. Fortunately, however, some of the mental and spiritual benefits can also be gained by a walk in the bush (without an iPod!) or a stroll along an empty beach.