What is the Purpose of Switchbacks on a Trail?

Yes, I'm gonna spiritualize this one

High country trails are opening and so, I beat feet to the trailheads as often as possible. This past week as I wound my way through a series of a dozen switchbacks to the summit, I was overwhelmed with a gratitude for each hairpin turn! In my childhood through young adulthood, I loathed switchbacks. Back then I was in a hurry to get to the top. I enjoyed seemingly endless energy. A switchback played cruel tricks on my mind - additional mileage and view of the lower leg of the trail a mere 40 feet below the upper leg. Tortuous mind games!

Today, I finally understand the magic of switchbacks. Each one lessens the steepness of the incline so that climb is easier on the hiker. (In my teens I was given a stern lecture, by someone I respected, upon short-cutting switchbacks and so I have refrained from doing so ever since.) And so, for years, I endured each switchback, counting all of them, adding to my agony. Another reason for switchbacks is to prevent erosion. It’s a protection of the mountain and forest I love. I’ve slowed my pace in recent years, enjoying the spotting of fungi, pausing to pick berries, and basking in the light rays filtering through old growth. The summit will be there at sunset, when I finally arrive. (I’ll spare you all the cliches but as I grow older they ring true.)

Full disclosure: In wilderness areas, I enjoy trailblazing where it is allowed. I have dragged my children on what they call “stupid expeditions.” These treks are risky and rarely, if ever, save time and energy. My stupid expeditions have honed my map-reading skills and they have increased my practice of prayer. One of my spouse’s close friends is the leader of a Search and Rescue Team. Recently, her team has been unsuccessful in finding a seasoned, conditioned hiker, who disappeared off trail. They found her footprint and butt-slides on a steep incline, but have yet to find her body. Upon hearing this unfolding story, which does not appear to have a happy ending, my mind has flooded with the many times, I have left butt-slides far off trail on inclines sufficiently steep to end my life. My spouse said, “You’re not doing it anymore!” (My first thought = “What happens in the wilderness stays in the wilderness,” but I am aging to the point where staying on the marked trail is plenty of adventure for me.)

The road - the path - the trail = prominent figures of speech in a variety of spiritual disciplines, world religions and literature. And so, ya! I’m gonna spiritualize this one.

Life is full of switchbacks, twists and turns, hairpins. I don’t feel that I am making any progress even though I am climbing at an ever slow pace. Visually, I falsely assess my spiritual progress as minimal, if not futile. As I submit to the engineers of the trail, I hear my mind’s thoughts and my heart’s devotions. I identify what is toxic and what is edible for my soul. Slowing my pace is good for my spirit.

As I stick to the switchbacks, I do less damage to what is of value. All too often, I have verbally blazed my own trail, eroding trust in others. My hasty choices and actions have damaged relationships and seared my conscience. Short-cutting a switchback has set me miles back in my pursuit of God’s will, purpose and mission, all of which I claim to serve. As I have hiked trails over the years, I have come ‘round to the positive and reassuring truth of Jesus’ straight and narrow path. Only by divine forbearance (grace) have my rabbit trails ended well.

As I have slowed my pace and stuck to the trail, have I enjoyed on a deeper level the rays of divine light filtering through the old growth. “New” is not always best. Old growth filters light more gloriously than seedlings in a burn. The ancient, spiritual paths deliver beautiful insights. It is popular today to post a sound-byte quote of ancient or classical wisdom. (Personally, I have refrained from doing so and rarely “heart” a social media posting of it.) There’s something to slogging through a dense, spiritual text, mining one gem every forty pages. The sound-byte quote misses the context and falsely presents spiritual insight as a well-turned phrase.

It is popular to present one’s butt-slides as proof of human brokenness and God’s infinite love. Today, I desire to learn from my butt-slides to prevent them in my future. My spiritual growth is not to endorse my butt-slides as an occasion of divine providence and grace, but to avoid them in my future. The God I worship is a forgiving and loving Being, who assures me that all will be well regardless of my butt-slides, but this does not mean that I should sanctify my butt-slides.

My spiritual maturity at the moment is defined by my listening to others, who love me, who know my strengths and weaknesses, and have my best in mind. In my world of backpacking, sometimes trail blazing, listening to my spouse and her Search and Rescue friend is a wise move. In my spiritual progress, listening to the Holy Scriptures, pressed into my mind and heart by the Holy Spirit is a wise move.

As I age, I am hoping to mature for the best. My desire is for my personal spirituality to be good, not only for myself, but for others. I am not the only one trekking. I should leave some berries behind for those after me on the trail. I should mark the trail, where it disappears, so that others are not lost. I should pack out my trash, so that others enjoy a pristine experience in the wilderness. Spiritually, I should do whatever preserves the glory and presence of the divine for others to discover. I should point the way to new and vibrant life. I should maintain a small carbon footprint so that others might see what the Creator has made “very good.” This is true spirituality.