Zero days

A zero day is a day when no miles are hiked.   Most long distance  hikers take them and even think they are necessary, probably because so many hikers tell them they are necessary.      Though  getting a hot bath, ordering a pizza  and laying in bed eating it while watching old movies is wonderful and when it is cold and wet outside can feel like the best thing in the world, I’m not sure it does anything to help my performance and may even hurt it.

What I have found more rejuvenating  than taking a zero day in town is to hike fewer miles on the trail for a few days.    Sleep in, take long breaks hanging out on the crest and eat more food.  I discovered this when after my son would join me for a week of doing 15 mile days I would feel completely rejuvenated in a way that 3 days in a motel room never did it for me.

Zero days break my grove and suck up all my time and money.   I think it’s best to keep moving no mater how slowly.

I hiked with a guy called  “Just Dave” for awhile and I said, “You know, I think zero days hurt performance.”   He said he thought so too. He only took one zero day for the Appalachian Trail and he said it was the worst mistake he made.  I don’t think he took any for the Pacific Crest Trail.    The best hikers don’t take zeros.

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crow

Hermit, long distance hiker, primitive cabin dweller, seeker.

9 thoughts on “Zero days”

  1. I occasionally took zero days, though half a zero day was more common. I hiked the North Country Trail before it was a blazed trail, and so I could get or send mail I sometimes had to make a detour into a town for that. I had to arrive before the post office closed for the day, and often I arrived late enough that I couldn’t get everything ready to send out again that same day. So I might arrive around 2-3 p.m., pick up my stuff and then find a place to stay–church, motel, campground, whatever–where I would reorganize my gear and get things ready to send back again. While in town I usually found a laundromat, too. Then the post office doesn’t open again until 9 a.m. so the next day might be a little short too. The only other zero days I took was twice when I felt lousy.

  2. Yeah, those 1/2 days are a good strategy because you get rest but they don’t knock you out of your grove. I’ve checked into a motel as early as 6:30 in the morning… kind of pushing what I could call a 1/2 day.

    The first time I hiked the PCT I took 40 zeros and a whole bunch of half days and then would hike like hell when on the trail. I thought that zero days would rebuild and revive me because I think that is what Ray Jardine said. Only it didn’t work and then I got to thinking, Ray Jardine doesn’t take zeros.

    Now I try to only take a zero if the weather is bad or if I’m sick because I would much rather spend that time taking more breaks on the trail.

  3. I’ve always wondered why so many hikers take zero days in town, isn’t that the place you’re going on the hike to get away from in the first place?

    I tried to take my zero days on the trail. Hit town early in the A.M. resupply, take care of business and get back on the trail, hike to a hot spring, or some epic vista and bust out a platypus of wine and grill up a steak picked up on the resupply. Heaven!

    http://farm1.static.flickr.com/78/157033753_c9384befd6_b.jpg

  4. Sounds like a good time but Deep Creek wouldn’t be my first choice because I don’t find being around people restfull.

    I’ve never taken a whole zero day on the trail. Sometimes it was my intent but then after awhile of resting I would say, “how about getting a few miles in.” There is just something about the trail that says, “Keep moving” and something about town that says, “Just lie here and eat food.”

    I very often bring a feast back to the trail and sit down at some great spot and eat it and rest for awhile. I think it’ s good because you start associating trail with good food and rest, and start associating town with chores.

  5. I once took a zero day on the trail when the wind was 50+ mph and I felt lousy. I’ve always felt the two were a fortuitous combination. I frequently managed to get to town and not do a half-zero but not always. It really depended on how far town was from where I was hiking. Sometimes the nearest town was a good 10-15 miles from hiking so getting there in early afternoon was the only possibility. Taking a zero day on the trail when the weather is good and I’m feeling well doesn’t sound like something that would work for me. I’d be bored, for one thing.

    Carolyn H.

  6. Yeah, I get bored too; I don’t bring a book or anything.

    The worst zero day I ever took was in 2001. It was the last day of my PCT thru-hike. I had to go back and hike a section that was closed because of fires when I had gone through it. It was rainy and wet and I didn’t really have enough water and food to take a zero day comfortably but I couldn’t make myself get up and hike so I slept and listened to the radio. Sitting in those wet gloomy woods in my wet gloomy tent listening to NPR go on and on about the Trade Towers was the most depressing day I have ever spent on the trail. But the next morning I was raring to go and get that hike finished.

  7. It does not sound to me as though you guys are very woodswise. There is so much to learn out there on the trail, I never get bored. Just in case it might rain I take along my handmade journal for making notes. Cold rainy days are good for hot drinks and food and sleep.
    Clear days are good for foraging, practicing primitive skills, repairing equipment and clothing, fishing, trapping, or sleeping and resting. So much to do, no time for getting bored.
    Le loup.

  8. I loved zero days. I loved finding other hikers and talking about our adventures. Reliving the trail by sharing the experience with someone else really made it feel more real to me. I loved finding a stealth camp in town or near by, setting up my tent and spending the day reading a book. I loved being able to eat hearty twice a day (I couldn’t quite eat three meals in town.) I loved resting my aching feet.

    I couldn’t stop on the trail. I drove myself like a slave driver. I always wanted to see how far I could get. I don’t know why it was that way. The trail pulled me so hard.

    Now that I’m home in my own backcountry, where the trails are so difficult you can’t do those kinds of miles, it’s so much easier to take it easy and enjoy where I am. This weekend I hiked all day on Saturday and couldn’t even complete 5 miles because I had to cut my way through the overgrown brush. It was nice to stop and take a break somewhere for a while and just look around at the beautiful place we were. I guess it helped I wasn’t alone, too. We could tell stories and make plans for future crazy adventures, so stopping along the trail was fun and not just me alone twiddling my thumbs trying to prevent myself from putting in a few more miles.

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