Fast vs. Slow: A Toddler’s Perspective

This past week has been the most relaxing week I’ve had in a long while. I took some time off of work and had essentially no plan for what to do during that time. All I knew was that I needed a break or, as the movement implies, I needed to slow down.

 

I haven’t hiked in several years much to my chagrin. When you marry a lovely person, work on school and careers, have kids, it can be hard to maintain your focus on the activities you once loved.

This week of slowing down was about refocusing on what used to make me, me. More importantly, it was about sharing my old loves with my new ones.

 

My wife, Sami, and I have been together for seven years and in that time we have done a few camping and hiking trips. Fewer than I would like, but life has a way of slipping through your fingers if you don’t try to grasp it.

After our daughter, Izzy was born the little time we did have evaporated. Don’t interpret this as me being unhappy about this shift in focus. That little girl is an adventure unto herself, one I love to be a part of. Two years later, it’s time to get back into the woods.

 

I’ve been excited to see how my daughter would handle raw nature. . We have taken her on walks around our neighborhood and some of the city parks and she seems to just boogie on through the place. Thankfully she usually stays close, but she wants to be free. I can feel it.

Our first trip on my week off was to Harriman State Park, a beautiful wildlife refuge in eastern Idaho right next to Island Park. New experiences awaited for each of us.

As we went to the visitor’s center and paid for our day pass the whole while I’m champing at the bit trying to get on any trail I can. This was my time to finally go wild and hike as far and as hard as I can! We get our pass, I gather up the family and we head to the John Muir Trailhead. It’s flat, should be easy enough for the little one, so off we go. I quickly discovered that two-year-olds don’t become super avid distance hikers just because you really want them to.

 

I’m ashamed to admit that I was pretty frustrated with the whole situation. Here I was, ready for my super-long-distance speed hike, and Izzy had taken a particular liking to a stick. We took what felt like three steps further down the trail and now she wanted a different stick.

 

Now that the stick dilemma was sorted out (the second stick won), we carried on. As we get going again, she has decided to build up her rock collection. I try to rush her along to no avail. Those rocks aren’t going to collect themselves. Thankfully this seems like a mobile task.

 

We carry on until the next plant she sees growing in the path. She stops and looks at it, a lovely flower and a lovely delay. There was a million and it was time to keep moving. By this point, I could tell that Sami was not pleased with my rushing of our toddler.

We kept walking with a million more distractions before Izzy eventually got tired and wanted to go back to the car. We took the next turn we could and less than an hour later we were driving home.

It was fun, sure, but it wasn’t what I had hoped for. I was ready for at least 5–7 miles but Izzy was only built for 1 at the most. The particular path we took was approximately 0.7 miles.

 

While we drove I talked with Sami about the hike. Amongst other topics like mosquitos and the heat, we landed on the Slow the Parks movement. To keep a long story short, she told me that I wasn’t doing what Slow the Parks was all about.

She was right. I had spent this time doing something I love the wrong way. I was so focused on checking all the boxes off my fun-hike list that I didn’t have genuine fun. I had left a beautiful area as downtrodden as when I got there.

 

I wanted a redo.

A couple of days passed and we decided to return to Harriman. This time, I was ready.

We got back on the exact same spot, the John Muir Trailhead. Instead of me taking the lead, Izzy would be in charge of this round.

She meandered down the path as wobbly as any toddler. Sami and I talked about what we saw and we occasionally consulted this handy Invasive Species Plant Guide that we picked up at the visitor center.

Izzy gathered her rocks and proudly showed them to us.

We listened to grasshoppers and locusts chirp and we watched them hop with us down the trail.

The breeze carried us along.

We stopped at the river’s edge and watched the water flow by.

At one point, the little one stopped and sat on the trail just playing with rocks. I watched her for a moment and realized this is what it’s all about. My 2-year-old has more wisdom than me by a mile because she knows that these journeys to the parks aren’t about completing your checklist. It’s about slowing down and taking the time to really take in your surroundings and enjoy what nature freely gives.

We ended up taking about an hour and a half to do the same 0.7 mile stretch as last time. The real difference between the two trips was a newfound perspective on slowing down.