Beyond the Adventure: Forest Bathing in a Hammock

Tucson, Arizona

I get the biggest benefit from being outside when I'm moving my body strenuously through a natural environment, but between my first and second Outside 365 attempts, I had to find a way to enjoy the beauty of nature without needing to be active. I wanted to find a way to immerse myself deeply in the natural world, slowly soaking in the sound of the wind through the trees, the light filtering down through the leaves, the scent of the grasses and flowers around me, the feeling of solitude and even loneliness found deep in the mountains.

At the time, I felt physically incapable of tackling long, strenuous days out in the mountains. Maybe I could have managed one mile per day, but I'm not quite certain... and I hadn't set it as a goal just yet. In any case, I spent some time pondering this problem, asking myself: how can I absorb as much of nature as possible on these beautiful summer and fall weekends when I can't get out and mountain bike?

The solution was sitting unused in a bin in my garage: the hammock.

Thanks to a competition I had entered years ago, I had won a ton of camping gear ranging from an entire popup tent camper to sleeping bags, cookware, and more... and the prize pack included four hammocks. These sat largely unused, aside from the occasional spur-of-the-moment decision, and I had ended up giving a couple away to friends. But still, there were at least two hammocks sitting unused in the garage, and I thought to myself, "hmm, that could be the perfect way to just sit in nature, read a book, drink a beer, and simply bask in the rhythms of the natural world, far removed from the rush of civilization." (Or something like that.)

Since I had nothing better to do, I gave it a shot. At that time, I found myself with no social or family obligations whatsoever on most Sundays, so I decided that Sunday would be "chill in the hammock" day.

Fall hammocking expedition near Leadville, Colorado

At the time, I was fortunate enough to be live in the Colorado Rockies and own a somewhat capable 4x4 vehicle. At least, I made it capable... I drove that clapped out Ford Explorer Sport up gnarly mountain roads that more than one Jeep has turned around at the sight of. But with the combination of beautiful weather, an offroad capable vehicle, and a hammock, I was able to drive myself (and my dog) up rugged roads high into the mountains. I'd drive until I found a likely spot (usually an aspen grove), and then I'd pull off, park the car, and string up the hammock.

Success!

And then I'd just sit, and exist. Of course I love to read, so I'd read books for hours on end, scribble in my journal, drink beer and nibble on snacks, and take a nap when the mood would strike (which it often would after a couple beers in the afternoon sunshine).

Later, as I slowly gained more ground against my injuries, I began combining my hammock time with a short hike to reach a secluded spot, sometimes just going a quarter mile or a half a mile in on a remote trail, or even hiking off-trail into woods to score an idyllic view. Combining the hammocking time with some time moving through the woods (accomplishing my outside and active goal) proved hugely rewarding, and eventually became my go-to.

But even when I didn't allocate adequate time to go out for a big foray into the mountains to find the perfect spot, I would often do a short hike close to home, heading to a favorite spot in an aspen grove along a rushing mountain stream. Or even closer still, I could string the hammock up next to my outside patio, and get a taste of the wind in the trees and the visceral experience of the mountains.

As I became addicted to these days spent in the hammock, I noticed something very interesting. First off, at the time I owned a comfortable home with plenty of cozy couches and lazy boys where I could relax. All of the activities that I did in the hammock, like reading, journaling, beer drinking, and napping, could have been more easily carried out in the comfort of my home. And yet, I found the days spent in my hammock to be the most restful and rejuvenating times that I experienced all week. In fact, coming off of a hammocking day, I found myself feeling the most rested and rejuvenated I'd felt in years.

Key Factors Leading to Rejuvenation

What was it? What caused that feeling of rejuvenation?

I think there were a few factors.

1. Because I drove way out into the mountains to pitch my hammock, I often had no cell service. I couldn't text or call anyone even if I wanted to, and I couldn't waste time scrolling on Instagram. It created a forced disconnection from the outside world.

2. Due to my Sunday schedule at the time, I found myself without any social commitments whatsoever. And indeed, I began to even block those Sundays on my calendar by not accepting any requests from friends to meet up for a beer or grab dinner in the evening. So instead of worrying about when I'd have to pack up the hammock and head down the mountain, I knew that I had literally nothing to do and no commitments whatsoever until work began on Monday morning.

I think these uncommitted solo days are immensely powerful, and I don't schedule them in enough anymore. Their power, at least for me personally, likely derives from my trend toward introversion, especially as a way to re-charge and re-energize. Not everyone might re-energize in the same way, but I think we can all still benefit immensely from the space to be with our own thoughts, to ponder our existence, to think about our values.

As Blaise Pascal famously wrote, "all of humanity's problems stem from man's inability to sit quietly in a room alone." Being able to find contentment and complete satisfaction all on your own is a superpower, and it can be cultivated.

3. More than anything, I think immersing myself in the rhythms of nature created a massive weekly reset in my personal life. Simply sitting, eating, reading, living, and sleeping in nature for an entire day gave me the time to feel the currents of the world wash over me.

I was able to feel the heat of the sun as it filtered down through the aspen leaves. The wind would coax the leaves to whisper the forest's secrets to me. The longer I sat, the more I could see the forest begin to go about its day, with my hammock and I simply another denizen in the center of a vast landscape. Instead of being an outsider, I felt as if I was integrated into the wider world around me.

In the early afternoon, the winds would inevitably pick up from the threatening storms, and the skies would darken. The temperatures would drop, and often times I'd have to pull a sweater on. Would this be a storm that just threatens and drops a few big plops of frigid-cold rainwater, or would the sky open up and force me to retreat to the car? Only time would tell, but as I began to watch the clouds, I would find myself analyzing the way they built and guessing what the outcome would be.

The Japanese have a term for this experience: "shinrin-yoku," which roughly translates to "forest bathing." (More on forest bathing here.)

Then... and now

Eventually, I was able to resume my Outside 365 movement goal, but I didn't want to abandon my hammock time. On the contrary, I decided that time spent weekly—or at times, even daily—in my hammock in the woods was one of the most important times of the week for me. And so, when I struck off to travel the country and eventually spent months traveling abroad, my hammock was my constant companion. I made space in my suitcase for it, and have strung up my hammock on the beach in Bali and Italy, in urban parks in Barcelona, on top of mountains in Colorado, along rivers in British Columbia, in the balcony of a chalet in the French Alps, between my trailer and my car in the middle of the Utah desert with no trees in sight... and so many other places.

My hammock has been my constant traveling companion and has become an integral part of my life. I view it as one of the best-value pieces of gear I've ever purchased in my life. You can buy a high-end hammock for under a hundred bucks, and even if you buy high-quality suspension straps (which I highly recommended), the entire package still costs less than a pair of mountain bike tires, and it should last for years.

Just sit and be

While time spent moving through the outdoors is vitally important, most of us can't spend hours upon hours every day hiking or riding through the mountains. But we CAN spend hours simply soaking in the natural world, observing it as it lives and breathes around us.

Perhaps I'm not quantifying these experiences into my Outside 365 goal adequately. But living a true Outside 365 lifestyle doesn't mean stopping at the minimum recommended dosage of ~15 minutes of nature time. Living an Outside 365 lifestyle means exchanging the bull shit of the developed world for the beauty of the natural world as often and as consistently as possible.

And the hammock is an unparalleled tool for this job!