I’ve lived in several provinces, each tending to call the holiday Monday in May something slightly different.
May 2-4; more a nod to how many beer you buy than the original date we’re celebrating. Maylong; say it like it’s all one word, not the May long weekend. Some crazy folks I know simply call it Victoria Day, a nod to the Queen for whom the statutory holiday was created to memorialize.
But to me, the second-last Monday in May will always be Hiking Day.
I’ve come to learn that this term is very much a colloquialism specific to the Northside (the North Sydney – Sydney Mines – Bras d’Or areas of Cape Breton), and a tradition that is still alive and very much immortalized in the memories of those who grew up there. A local grocery store posted a photo on Facebook of its ‘Hiking Day Bags’ (a grab bag of treats, something you might see handed out at Halloween) and within a few hours, hundreds of people had chimed in, sharing fond stories of their childhood holidays.
Hiking Day was not so much an occasion focused on promoting physical activity or admiring nature, but more about getting the kids out of the house. Not the family – the kids. This was a day when we as children pushed the boundaries of unsupervised adventure. We organized ‘hikes’ that saw us spending the day out and about, picnic snacks at the ready, and nary an adult in sight.
I remember doing ‘the loop’ one year, roughly a 10 kilometre journey that basically followed the route our school bus drove each morning. We biked some, walked more. I’m pretty sure it took us ALL day. Three kids, on our own. Ages nine & eight. It was awesome – and unsupervised.
There were no cell phones to check in. No expectation that someone would take offense to us out on our own and involve the authorities. The only thing I recall being questioned was our stamina – could we really make it all the way around the loop on foot? It was a challenge that pushed our sense of independence, and perhaps that of our parents’ expectations, too. It was a rite of passage that every child I knew talked about completing.
I can’t imagine the reactions today if we were to allow small groups of elementary school students to head off on day-long, 10-kilometre adventures without supervision. We’re not even allowed to let younger students to get off the school bus and walk home alone. And yet, we hear complaints of a generation raised that is unable to take care of themselves as adults.
It’s hard to find the balance between keeping children safe and teaching children to be safe. I’ve written about this before, when Utah passed a ‘free-range parenting law.’ This legislation basically tries to define that gray area between recognizing a child who is being neglected by their parents/guardians and a child who is being given small freedoms and responsibilities in an effort to encourage critical thinking. We need to protect children, but we also need to allow them time to be independent.
One of the best parts of Hiking Day was that, at least to my recollection and that of my friends, it was something we did – not an outing our parents organized, but an adventure that we created. Books have been written and school systems created around the power of this philosophy, that allowing children freedom to explore nature hones critical thinking skills, inspires creativity, and connects children with their community and their environment. Maybe it’s time Hiking Day becomes a tradition beyond the Northside.