The Healing Power Of A Hike
Last weekend, our school’s junior class stepped out of classrooms for the trails at Devil's Lake State Park. While it looked like a simple hiking excursion as our annual retreat activity, it became a much-needed reset filled with fresh air for many students.
The school van left campus early Saturday morning. Two hours later, we arrived at the park. Our grade was split into groups and everyone started the hike up the East Bluff trail. The process was enjoyable but challenging at the same time. Though the climb was steep with slippery rocks most of the time, it felt especially refreshing in the sun just walking and snapping photos of the views in Chicago’s autumn. By the time we reached the top, most of us were exhausted—but
also relieved.
Junior year is stressful. Even if the semester just began, the weight of SAT prep, college applications, and GPA maintenance are already felt on students’ shoulders. Feeling overwhelmed, the Devils Lake trip offered everyone a short break away from the to-do notifications.
Throughout the experience, the most noticeable change was the lack of phone service. At the top of the bluffs, Wi-Fi and cellular data were nonexistent. For the first time in months, me and my peers weren't checking Instagram, TikTok, or Snapchat for nearly a whole day. What happened instead were forced conversations with unfamiliar teammates and 100% attention to the hike itself. Although it felt weird and uncomfortable in the beginning, such tranquility made the trip memorable and relaxing.
The activity also made me notice how everyone can be brought so much closer to each other with just simple interactions. Some of my friends who normally don't talk in class were cheering each other on. At one point during the hike, a group formed a human chain to help classmates cross a rocky section. It was not just a bridge built for the convenience of this one trip, it was a bond of team-building exercise, not because teachers planned it, but because we needed each
other.
Other than valuable opportunities to make new friends, the hike had physical benefits. Walking uphill for miles was a tough workout. There were parts during that day where we had to climb up with the help of ropes and balancing on steepy surfaces.
In the end, the retreat was inevitably not a permanent escape from dull tasks. Homework and application deadlines were still waiting in the way they were and everyone was obligated to the exact same tasks. But for one afternoon, students got permission to slow down, rest their minds and enjoy nature in brand new ways.
When we got back on the van, phones turned on. Notifications flooded in. But many of the students didn't immediately start scrolling. Most of us just quietly leaned on the windows and stared outside. The silence on the ride back campus was different from the anxious silence in the past. It felt strange, in a calm way.
‘We should do this more often,’ said one of my friends. I thought it was not necessarily the retreat part, but just the being-outside-part in general, as the sun and breeze reminded everyone that there's more to life than grades."
Student well-being doesn’t have to be complicated. Disconnection sometimes also means connections to new aspects that we ignore in our daily lives. Sometimes, all it takes is a pair of hiking boots, a trail, and no service.
