hiking | Books and my backpack

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.

The final numbers: twenty-one days on the Via Francigena, 268 miles through Tuscany and Lazio, 29,000 feet of climbing.

Yesterday, our final day brought us a unique view of St. Peter’s Basilica. When we arrived at the square an hour or so later, it still buzzed from the previous day’s announcement of the new American pope.

Scores of TV interviews and commentary were being filmed while thousands of people milled about. Like when we arrived in 2018 after walking the Way of St. Francis, two Oregon “pilgrims” with backpacks felt out of place.

Early this morning we returned with our pilgrim passports, which held 32 stamps from places we visited along the path that had been traveled for more than a thousand years. At a desk next to the basilica, we received our testimonia, identical to the ones we earned after walking the Way of St. Francis.

Back at our Testevere apartment this afternoon, we feel the usual letdown, missing the routine and adventure of one of the world’s great trails. Our feet rejoiced.

Tonight we meet fellow trekkers from The Netherlands for dinner. They have completed pilgrimages to all three Christian destinations: Rome, Santiago de Compostela, and Jerusalem. A bit of reminiscing is likely to accompany our toasts.