With Extreme Heat, a Walk in the Park is Not What it Used to Be. Can We Adapt?
By Robert Searns
“When the heat comes it’s invisible. It doesn’t bend branches or blow across your face…it just surrounds you and works on you in ways you can’t anticipate or control. You sweat, your heart races…your vision blurs. The sun feels like the barrel of a gun pointed at you.”
I walk every day, year-round. It’s my way to stay fit, find solace, and to just feel good. It’s a must-do, like brushing my teeth. Over the past several years, the heat has increasingly been a challenge, though — until now — not daunting. Then, this past June, we had a spell of way-too-early 90+ degree days and things seemed to reach a tipping point.
On one of those days, I headed out on my usual two-mile loop walk. At first, I felt okay and decided to go for three miles. Midway, I stopped at a favorite resting place, a benchlike boulder along a creek. That’s when the spinning sensation came, and my mouth went dry. Heart racing, I was soon struggling to hold down breakfast. It came out of nowhere — a frightening and helpless feeling. Fortunately, I had a small bottle of coconut water, and the creek was flowing. Holding back the nausea, I consumed the drink, dipped my cap in the stream, filled it, and placed it back on my head. The chill of the cold water running down my face and back brought almost instant relief. Still feeling unsteady, I made my way home. At that moment I realized I had to change my regime to get through the sweltering days.
News reports confirmed it wasn’t just me. The stories were coming in daily about hikers and casual walkers, not only suffering, but dying from the heat. The body of a 69-year-old Texas man was found a half mile from a trailhead near Sedona, AZ. A 52-year-old Wisconsin man and his 23-year-old daughter perished hiking in Canyonlands National Park. A couple out for a Sunday hike in August succumbed to the heat, along with their 1-year-old — just a mile and a half from their car. In this case it was not in the desert, but in the Sierras near Yosemite National Park, where temperatures that day were over 107 degrees.
And it’s not just in the backcountry. This summer, cities from Phoenix to Portland endured blistering heat; in some instances, sidewalks baked at 130 degrees or more. While heat tolerance varies among individuals, the hazards of walking in the heat rise precipitously as temperatures reach 80 degrees and above. The CDC Heat Risk Dashboard showed that, on a single day in late August, a major section of the US Midwest faced “moderate to extreme” risks.
Nor is it only humans at risk. Dogs out walking are even more vulnerable. One resource manager with a large suburban parks and open space agency told me that “dogs are stroking out” on hikes, often with their owners unaware of their vulnerability.
We still want to be able to walk and hike year-round. But climate change poses significant new challenges. How do we prepare ourselves and our communities so we can continue to enjoy the outdoors?
At the individual level, it starts with knowing our fitness and medical considerations, including whether we take medications that could make us more vulnerable. In my case, as fit as I thought I was, I learned that heat distress can sneak up on you with little warning and quickly become serious — life threatening. After a couple of alarming experiences, I never set out without two water containers. First, I carry a full water bottle for drinking. Electrolytes are also a must, so I take along coconut water or quick-dissolve electrolyte tablets. The second bottle is for cooling. Initially I poured the water on a hand towel and hung it on my neck and shoulders; I now use an inexpensive golfer’s cooling cloth, ordered online. Always check that the water bottle is topped up. (Be sure Fido has water too!) Before departing, make sure that the supplies are adequate for both the temperature and distance — both out and back!
Along with water, I always open the weather app on my phone and take particular care if it’s going to be low 70’s or above. I carry a phone, though I recognize that batteries can go dead and signals can be lost. Accordingly, I make sure I know my route and have an escape plan including places to find shade or take cover and a quick way back. Ideally, someone knows I’m out hiking and my route. Even better, it’s advisable to walk with a buddy who is also prepared — including carrying adequate hydration.
Heat acclimatization training may be helpful. Michael Sawka, an adjunct professor of biological sciences at the Georgia Institute of Technology, suggests that if you start with initial limited exposure and “work your way up…you’ll find that your tolerance increases…” The idea is to train your body incrementally, starting with small doses on moderately hot days and not “in the middle of a heat wave.” Always stay turned to your body, alert for signs of “dizziness, nausea, headache, rapid heart rate or muscle cramps.” I found this helped my tolerance but, for me, only by a few degrees. So, I don’t overdo it or go too far out in the heat. Again, a medical fitness check is a must!
Besides our own personal adaptations, we need to ask what steps our communities can take to adapt existing infrastructure so walking and hiking remain enjoyable and safe. When it comes to laying trails and walking routes, we can’t change the weather patterns, but we can make things a bit more tolerable.
We can start by designing walking and hiking routes that offer places of refuge to lower body temperatures, more readily available hydration, and posted heat risk information and guidance. Most of these are relatively simple to create, starting with planting trees and providing conveniently and strategically spaced cooling stations with shaded benches and water. Some of these — especially while waiting for trees to grow — could take the take the form of shelter structures. Solar panels on the shelter’s roof could power overhead fans or a spray mister; a 911 call box and USB phone charging ports would enable walkers to call for help.
Another key element of heat-readiness is accessible weather information, including hourly temperature advisories and easy-to-follow wayfinding. (In many instances, not recognizing the heat threat and then getting lost has led to hiker emergencies and fatalities). What if there were incentives for restaurants, coffee shops, pubs and other gathering places to create outdoor seating areas, shaded by solar panel shade structures, that both cool people and generate electricity?
Some cities are already building this kind of heat resiliency infrastructure. Paris is implementing a system of “Cool Zones” with a network of over 800 places of refuge linked by walkable routes from neighborhoods. Urban designer Bas Smets advocates creating adaptive “cooling microclimate spaces.” Along similar lines, New York’s “Cool Neighborhoods NYC” is exploring the use of street plantings and cool pavements, which retain less heat than their conventional counterparts. The cities of Medellin, Colombia and Lima, Peru are creating interconnected green corridors with plans to greatly expand walkability and bikeability; Lima envisions planting four million trees by 2030.
When it comes to backcountry trails, state, regional and park agencies are exploring steps to address the threats heat poses to hikers. This includes expanding know-before-you-go programs to better inform trail users of heat hazards, and training personnel in rescue and emergency services. With increasingly rising temperatures, significant work remains to be done.
In The Heat Will Kill Us First, Jeff Goodell cites annual extreme heat deaths worldwide at 489,000 and growing — nearly twice the number of firearms deaths. He asks, “what will happen to our lives and our communities when typical summer days in Chicago or Boston go from 90° F to 110°F”. In this face of this “new abnormal,” public health and climate writer Abdullah Shihipar ponders, “what will become of my daily walk?” He acknowledges that personal steps like hydration and pacing your outdoor activities can help but emphasizes that infrastructure adaptations like “making our sidewalks greener…with significantly more tree cover and water fountains” are urgently needed (though not “a substitute for substantive climate action”).
Clearly, we need both immediate and longer-term adaptations to assure our cities remain walkable — year-round — so we can find safe, comfortable ways to regularly get out there. Adaptive green infrastructure that enables our continued access to and enjoyment of walking, running, hiking and biking must be a broadly embraced priority community goal. While there is still much concept refinement to be done, promising efforts in cities and the backcountry can inspire further action.
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Robert Searns is the author of Beyond Greenways: The Next Step for City Trials and Walking Routes (Island Press, 2023), as well as having served as editor of the Trails and Beyond online magazine of The World Trails Network. Searns has worked as an urban trail and greenways planner and developer for four decades. He was project director of Denver’s Platte River and Mary Carter Greenways — both national-award-wining projects. He helped plan the Grand Canyon National Park Greenway, played a key role on the Memphis Wolf River Greenway, and authored the Commerce City, CO, Walk, Bike, Fit Master Plan.
