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Twenty years ago, I joined a hiking club connected to the Bruce Trail Conservancy, which protects land along Ontario’s Niagara Escarpment. I did not realize at the time that this decision would quietly change my life. What began as getting outdoors and exploring local hikes grew into a passport stamped with trekking adventures around the world.

Like many new hikers, I joined for practical reasons: motivation to stay active, explore nature and make friends. What I found, however, were fellow hikers who shared trail knowledge, life stories and an infectious enthusiasm for travel. Conversations sometimes drifted toward overseas experiences. Those shared narratives planted seeds.

Inspired by members who told me about their walking holidays abroad, I began to see a way to fulfill my desire to maintain fitness and explore the world at the same time.

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I chose Mallorca, an island in Spain, for my first active vacation. I liked the sound of its Mediterranean climate, olive groves, pilgrim paths and mountain views. I was hooked, but since I was working full time I could only get away once a year.

England’s Yorkshire was next. Having read James Herriot’s books as a child, and having chosen veterinary medicine as my career, I wanted to see the area where he had worked and lived. I found rolling hills dotted with sheep, wild horses in the dales, dry stone walls and villages unchanged by time. No wonder he loved it so.

I managed to persuade my husband John, who is a more casual hiker, to accompany me to both Scotland and Switzerland. Scotland revealed landscapes that had to be seen to be appreciated – rugged highlands in vast rounded forms, purple heather blanketing the moors and countless cascading waterfalls.

Switzerland offered its dramatic mountains but also pastoral scenes that included charming cattle with their heavy bronze bells and traditional chalets with bright geraniums spilling from the window boxes.

Next came a huge challenge: hiking across Northern England on the famous Wainwright Path, a coast-to-coast 322 kilometre trail. Our group started in St. Bees and finished at Robin Hood’s Bay, hiking every day without a break for two weeks. We stayed in delightful inns, passing through the Lake District’s mountains, ancient villages with slate-roofed homes and North York Moors National Park. I admired large rock cairns called the Nine Standards at the top of a peat mountain. The pebbles we’d picked up on the beach of the Irish Sea when we started on the west coast were tossed into the North Sea in the east at the end.

A friend and I booked a tour to head to South America to explore Patagonia. This was perhaps the most epic of them all, with its towering peaks, relentless winds and interesting wildlife viewing that included Andean condors and guanacos, but sadly no pumas. Even though our itinerary included bus travel to take us from one hike destination to another, we were required to cross the border between Chile and Argentina on foot, dragging our suitcases on wheels behind us through the neutral zone. It certainly made for a memorable experience none of us will ever forget.

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Along the way, a growing love of active travel led to other adventures: two “barge and bike” holidays (instead of driving between cycling destinations, we floated along canals on a barge-turned-hotel), one in France and the other in Holland/Belgium, and cycle touring through Ontario, Quebec, New York state and Ohio. These journeys blended physical challenge with cultural immersion. Hiking friends also introduced me to backpacking, and a new passion took root.

The common thread throughout has been community – people who value wonder, movement and connection. What stands out most is how a hiking club served as a catalyst. It did more than maintain trails; it fostered a sense of possibility and joy.

When John and I moved to a new town, we found a similar spirit with the Rideau Trail Association. Through organized activities and shared stewardship, members of both clubs learn not only about the trails beneath their feet but also about themselves.

Looking back, I see that joining a hiking club was never just about outdoor fitness. I may have joined for fitness and fresh air, but I stayed for the people. One trail led to another, and before I knew it, the path stretched across countries and continents. All it took was that first step.

Louise Langlais lives in Inverary, Ont.

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