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.

Trail Snakes Along Easternmost Coastline

Newfoundland’s East Coast Trail is North America’s easternmost coastline path. While camping near St. John’s, Sue and I sampled three varied sections.

Measuring 168 miles, 25 paths are connected by 41 miles of community walks. On the La Manche Trail, we walked over a swaying suspension bridge that spans a wild waterway flowing into the Atlantic Ocean.

Sue took a break at North Head, a three-mile walk from Spear Lighthouse, where I stood at a plaque marking the easternmost point in North America, excepting Greenland. Some argue Alaska wins that title, though, since it extends into the eastern hemisphere.

At St. John’s Harbor, a cliff-hugging path encircles Signal Hill, where flags on a tower were flown for many decades to alert the city if approaching vessels were friend or foe. Today, locals use this section to test their endurance on steep ascents and descents.

We found stunningly beautiful scenery on the East Coast Trail, punctuated by boardwalks over marshland as well as rocks, gnarled roots, and mud that slowed our progress. There are designated campsites in some areas, even wooden decks for your tent.

Our weather in July was mostly dry with temperatures in the high 60s and low 70s; we dodged winds that can blow your hat off.

Volunteers with the East Coast Trail Association won’t stop until they expand the path to 373 miles.