Discover more from LA Field Guide
Confessions of an Asshole Hiker
Hello. My name is Aaron, and I am an asshole hiker.
My name is Aaron, and I am an asshole hiker.
I haven’t always been an asshole hiker. I always thought other hikers were the assholes, but I guess it takes one to know one. I’m not sure when the shift happened, but now that my eyes have been opened, I cannot close them again. Someone once said the first step of letting go is admitting you were hanging on in the first place. Maybe that someone was me.
Anyway, my therapist told me writing a list of my transgressions would be a helpful step on the
road trail to recovery, so here it is:
Thanks for reading the LA Field Guide! Subscribe for free to join the adventure.
I am an asshole hiker. I judge everyone who has more gear than me for being over prepared. I judge everyone who has less gear than me for being underprepared. I now recognize the darkness in my heart.
I am an asshole hiker. I only avoid popular hikes because they’re popular and I want to feel unique. I’ve learned you don’t need to be unique to be cool and popular.
I am an asshole hiker. Honestly, this is all just an excuse to buy designer yoga pants and other athleisure wear that I product test on the couch in my living room.
I am an asshole hiker. I know hiking is walking but I’ll never admit it. Hiking is a huge part of my identity and walking is just… walking. If anyone ever knew they were the same thing I don’t even know who I would be anymore.
I’m an asshole hiker. I’m certain that you could never hike in jeans, but I’ve never actually tried it myself.
I’m an asshole hiker. I Strava’d a walk around the neighborhood and labeled it a hike. We all know walking and hiking are basically the same thing, right?
I’m an asshole hiker. I don’t even know what all this gear is for, or how to use it, but it makes me feel cooler. Feeling cooler helps me compensate for other insecurities like that completely hypothetical time I was struggling to untie a figure 8 because I was pumped out after hang-dogging an easy 5.10 while another party waited nearby for the route, discreetly laughing to each other about the noob who couldn’t untie. Doesn’t even affect me, cause I feel cool inside.
I’m an asshole hiker. I believe if a six year old can do it in crocs it’s not a hike.
I’m an asshole hiker. When I pass you on the trail it is because I am a better looking, more athletic, and overall more advanced person than you. When you pass me on the trail it is because you are in such a goddamn hurry and you should really be slowing down and enjoying it like me.
I’m an asshole hiker. Sometimes, I just do it for the ‘gram.