Anyone visiting a new park or hiking area will no doubt stumble upon reviews of that locale’s most popular short hikes early in their research. These hikes typically promise big views in exchange for minimal to moderate effort, but they are likely to guarantee big crowds.
My tendency is to want to avoid these areas in my planning, and I spend a good amount of time looking for other hikes that are a bit more off the beaten path. While I don’t think my strategy is a bad one in general, especially if one of the goals of a hike is to get away from crowds, I have to admit I’ve been proven wrong often enough to rethink this as a primary strategy.
Two out-and-back hikes that I initially planned to avoid but ended up taking, after recommendations from others? Delicate Arch, in Arches National Park, and Hidden Lake Overlook, in Glacier National Park.
I know, I know. You’re thinking, Really? Skip Delicate Arch? An icon of Arches NPS? Why would you do such a thing? Because, as I said, my tendency is to avoid anything that appears too popular. And hey, I’ve already acknowledged that this hasn’t turned out to be the best planning method.
Arches was a tricky trip to plan. We had about 48 hours near the park proper, and also wanted to see a bit of Canyonlands. (While we’re on the topic of trip-planning flaws, I’m also an avid over-planner. I like to think I’m learning, over time, to do better… alas.) So, timing was part of my thinking. Should we spend more time taking a lengthier hike that would allow a broader range of sights, as opposed to squeezing in a shorter hike with only one big payoff?
Absolutely not, said friends, who assured me that it would definitely be worth it to hike out to Delicate Arch. It turns out iconic sights are iconic for a reason.
Delicate Arch, at just about three miles, was actually our first hike of the trip, as we arrived in Moab a few hours earlier than we could get into our AirBNB room. It was early afternoon, hot as anything just a day past the summer solstice, and bright-bright-bright. We were dressed for driving, not hiking, so made a quick change in the car and filled our Camelbaks at the visitor center.
Getting out to Delicate Arch, once we’d parked and geared up, was in itself picturesque. A little different from the humid and leafy green summer scenes we’re used to in Maryland. But turning the corner when Delicate Arch came into view—that was when we were sure this popular trail was worth it. The overall vista is understandably even more spectacular in person than in a photograph. The chance to stand under the towering arch and to feel the rock surroundings under your boots while exploring—these too made the hike worth it. Sure, other trails in the park (and, of course, some outside the park) offer similar advantages, but Delicate is such a symbol of Arches that it would have been a shame to pass over it. Bonus: There is an area to view petroglyphs near the start of the trail. And because of the inhospitable time of day and year when we happened to hike it, it actually wasn’t crowded at all.
Our experience hiking Hidden Lake Overlook, which is just under three miles, in Glacier National Park was a wee bit different when it came to crowds. Plenty of people, plenty of mountain goats, boardwalks through the snow. No opportunities for solitude here; the trail begins directly behind the Logan Pass visitor center.
We had just hiked out to Avalanche Lake on the first day of our trip when the park ranger/campsite host at Sprague recommended Hidden Lake. I don’t remember whether I voiced my hesitancy about hiking such a popular trail, but I do recall her insisting that we shouldn’t miss it.
It was crowded, to be sure, but the mountain and lake view at the end of the trail and the general excitement of the other hikers contributed to this hike being part of what felt like a perfect day.
First, getting to hike in snow in July? That was fun. Other trails would offer this, but remember, we’re assessing the worthiness of short, popular hikes, and the snow packs where trail markers disappear in the middle of a much longer hike don’t count right now.
Next, the mountain goats. They were numerous, to the point where it was difficult to both stay on the trail and abide by the rule for minimum distance between hiker and wildlife. Still, what a treat to hike alongside them.
And of course, Hidden Lake itself, a body of blue obscured in part by snow and ice, reflecting mountains in such a way so as to deceive the nonchalant viewer into thinking there isn’t any lake at all. An overlook whose sights require a second glance, then a third, as the eyes work to make sense of the lines between land and lake, to distinguish between reflection and reality. Snow, wildlife, captivating views: check, check, and check.
There’s something to be said for being part of a crowd when a brilliant new view comes into the collective sight of all nearby. I’ve experienced other moments like this – sunrise on Cadillac Mountain in Acadia, challenging parts of Old Rag in Shenandoah. I’ve also experienced the opposite, as so wisely summed up by a forlorn teen atop foggy Gorham Mountain during a rainstorm in Acadia when he said, “It warn’t worth it, were it?” In either case, despite my inclination to avoid overly-peopled trails, sometimes the extra people or perspective can make a trail even more memorable. And if for some reason it doesn’t work out that way, just consider it a short walk for the benefit of your health.
