Shinrin-yoku translates as forest bathing. I interpret it as spending time outside experiencing the world around me without an objective, without a mileage target, and simply for my own joy.
When I decided to ride out the Covid restrictions outside the city, I thought it would mean plenty of access to the outdoors: quick after work trips to the climbing crag, long weekend hikes, all the joys of living in the mountains. That hasn’t exactly gone according to plan, partly because I made the classic shoulder season blunder of underestimating trail conditions in March (it’s still snow and ice— mud season is still months off), and partly because I know that if I break an ankle on the trail and need rescue, I’m asking a volunteer SAR group to break social distancing guidelines to carry me out, and that my subsequent visit to a local hospital will consume resources and PPE that would be better saved for the pandemic.
Instead I opted outside in gentler ways: I took a long walk along a side road and looked at the trees in the sunshine, and listened to meltwater streams in the dappled shade.
