Age, Race, and Altitude on a High Sierra Trail

Benje Williams and his dad on their High Sierra journey. Photo: Backpacker, Outside+

Writing for Backpacker, Benje Williams chronicles a Sierra Nevada adventure, describing how he and his dad battled high-altitude fatigue and haunting memories of his parents’ miserable trek decades before. The son poses questions: Why don’t more blacks take up backpacking? Is fear of discrimination holding them back? Is age a barrier for people considering a challenging trek?

During our 10 distance treks, most in Europe, Sue and I have seen very few black hikers. It has been a subject we have discussed with hopes that all are welcomed on the trails. For Benje Williams and his 65-year-old dad, racism surfaces on their adventure, even finding its way through silence.

As for age being a blockade, we were in our 60s when we tackled the John Muir Trail, also in California’s Sierra Nevada. I was among three in our group who were 69 and I may have been out of breath more than the “youngsters” we met on our 30-day experience, but I made it to Mount Whitney’s peak and finished all 246 miles, albeit aided by mules who carried most of our group’s gear.

Although it is not unusual to walk with people in their 60s–or occasionally even older–in Europe, there were few senior citizens in the High Sierra when we were there. But at every place we have trekked, age has never prevented bonding around the campfire, at trail stops, or during shared meals. However, language has affected our sense of camaraderie several times.

Earlier in 2025, Sue and I walked nearly 400 miles on Italy’s Via Francigena and England’s Cotswold Way. Both were hard, but being 73 was not an overriding factor for me and Sue’s 68 years did not keep her from conquering steep climbs with gusto.

I hope Benje and his dad will continue to make adventure a part of their lives. Click on the link above to read Benje’s article.

Dolomites Hike Is ‘A Risk Not Worth Taking’

His first words had me hooked.

“Somewhere in Switzerland, there is a hike known as one of the most dangerous in the world,” with “some of the most insane features I’ve ever seen on a hike.”

That is how Bernardo Bacalhau introduced his YouTube post. (Link coming below.)

Like his video that kicked off his current bike ride from Singapore back to his home in Portugal, the young video celebrity exuded confidence and charm with his usual unassuming personality. As he looked up at the via ferrata (“way of iron”) in the Dolomites, he said his research had led him to conclude that “the only reasonable thing to do is climb it alone.”

A few hours later, after he had clipped two leashes linking his harness to steel cables, which were attached to posts in walls of rock, he donned his helmet. “Should be safe with this.”

However, near the end, after 12 hours on the mountain, he gave up filming as he finished, guided only by his headlamp, and concluded the climb was “a risk not worth taking.” But it was too late to turn back.

Accompanied by music that builds tension, the video shows Bacalhau as he became exasperated, overcome with emotion. He vowed, “I was not going to allow myself to fail.” All the while, there were background sounds of his metal clips sliding along the steel cables. He described the many narrow ladders as the easy parts.

“It’s insane. It’s insane,” he pleaded to the camera attached to his helmet as it captured the incredible views of the valley floor that loomed behind him. “What am I doing?” Then, “This is the craziest day of my life.” And, “My heart!” He vowed to not look down. He squinted. “My muscles are screaming.” He gasped. “This is just dangerous. Nobody’s going to come to save me.”

”My grandma is going to freak out when she watches this.”

Racing sunset, he came to a section I could barely stand to watch: a steel cable bridging a long gap that he must walk like a tightrope. He clipped into a higher cable and gingerly inched across, suspended thousands of feet in the air.

This is an astounding film that may disturb some. I found myself hanging onto his every step; I cringed each time he reclipped his leashes that would keep him from plunging to his death. And that was the second time I watched it.

Bacalhau is a master storyteller who has attracted 397,000 subscribers to his YouTube channel; nearly half a million have watched this post.

I eagerly await his next adventure.