On the first trip we were camping in Cunningham Gulch, a narrow valley tucked between towering mountains. The clouds were gathering and I’m always vigilant for thunderstorms, so before I set out on my hike I pulled out my phone to update my weather. 

No bars, no internet available.

I set out on my hike keeping my eye on the clouds. When I reached the top part of my hike I was on the Continental Divide. I had the best 360 view of the Colorado Mountains I’ve ever seen.

 

I soaked in the expanse and then as I turned around to go I decided to try a weather update again. “Here I am. On top of the world, maybe I’ll get some internet up here.”

I looked at my phone; no bars, no internet. The towers must be far away.

The weather held off raining just long enough for me to get back to our truck. 

The rest of this trip I hiked each day by watching the clouds and not the internet.

My hiking trail apps worked off of satellite, but there was no Facebook, G mail, or anything else online available.

We left Cunningham Gulch and drove back to the little town of Silverton. As we walked into a coffee shop my phone came alive.

 A deluge of information, to-do lists and social drama appeared in my notifications, emails, messages. 

I felt like I had opened Pandora’s Box. 

I quickly attempted to close the Box. I had a 2-hour drive home over Red Mountain Pass and I was not ready for this onslaught.

My closing of the box was pretty effective but I still had the nagging realization that there was a lot on my plate when I got back home.

I also had a strong sense, in my mind and body, of the contrast between living life with the internet and living life without the internet.

A week later on our second trip we drove to the little town of Lake City. Great internet in town and I diligently updated my weather app before we drove up into the mountains.

When we got to our campground I checked my phone and sure enough no internet. (Though there were some moose whom we viewed from a safe distance).

The next day I hiked again on a different section of the Continental Divide trail. A world of expansive views at 12,000 ft. When I got up-top I checked my phone. 4 bars, great internet. “I must be near a tower somewhere.”  I updated my weather app, sent some video footage to my family and friends of the spectacular view, and I even messaged a friend who is a “birder”  asking about an unusual bird I had seen. 

Then headed down the mountain. As I walked down, to my shock  my phone rang. I don’t even have enough internet at my house to use my phone, as a phone. Cell phone calls for me are actually quite rare. “This is ridiculous” I thought,  “I don’t  want to spend my time up here doing business on the phone.” But I checked to see who it was. I did not recognize the number and chose to ignore it. Then I received another beep that a message had been left. “Hmm.  Oh, I guess I’ll check.” It was a friend requesting a reference for a housing application. My mind began to spin. “My friend needs this in order to get a place to live. I should help her out.” I attempted to message a recommendation. I then chose to put the event out of my mind and my mind rejoined my body on the beautiful trail.

But a sense of strain and loss lingered. For a number of minutes I had been distracted from the small and big wonders that surrounded me. I had experienced attentional blindness with my mind in one place and my body in another place. I also felt the strain of multitasking. My sense of flow and continuity had been disrupted.

For the rest of this trip I experienced great internet on my hiking trails. I updated my weather app more often than I ever have in my life and learned a lot about the unpredictability of weather prediction. Watching the clouds was my most effective tool.

I muted more notifications and resisted checking my email or Facebook. 

When I returned home from this trip I reflected on the different experience of the two three-day trips of hiking near the Continental Divide. One with the internet and one without. 

With the internet I was grateful for the ability to contact family and friends to share my experiences. Without the internet my body felt more at ease and  my mind experienced a greater sense of flow and continuity.

What happens in our brain when we use technology on a nature walk?

Research from David Strayer Ph.D University of Utah has explored this question.

Study:

Two groups of study participants take a walk in an arboretum in Salt Lake City.

Before the walk EEG signals (electrical signals in the brain) are measured.

• Group #1 leaves all devices with the researchers and takes a tech free walk.
• Group #2 is instructed to talk on a cell phone with a friend or relative during the walk.

20 minutes after the walk  EEG signals are measured again.

Findings: 

 EEG difference:

• Group #1 the tech free group – showed a low level of signals, indicating a rested brain.
• Group #2  the tech user group -showed a high level of signals indicating a brain that is not rested.

Memory Difference

Group #1 tech free group remembered twice as much about the arboretum as the #2 tech users group.

Bottom Line:

• The tech free group experienced the restorative power of nature.  The cell phone group did not. 
• The tech free group experienced awareness of their location. The tech user group experienced attentional blindness. 

These research findings matched my own experience with the internet. Using the hiking trail app on my phone did not seem to diminish the restorative power of nature, but being plugged into the world with the internet did.

When I spent time communicating on my phone I experienced attentional blindness and missed portions of my hike. 

The least invasive communication was when I sent video clips/pictures of the wonders around me to friends and family. This action seemed to keep me connected to my location.

I plan to continue to experiment with a healthy use of technology as I hike. I invite you to join me in this Sculpting Project.

Soul Sculpting Project: Unplug A Little

1    Select an activity or time of day for unplugging from some level of technology. 

Ideas to consider:

• Unplug everything and take a tech free Sabbath 
• Use only select technology and mute the rest

2. Try it

My next hike, should I have the internet, I plan to schedule one short session of communication with family/ friends, depend more on the clouds than the app prediction, and not answer my phone. I am guessing the world can revolve without my communication for a while.

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: Ecc. 3:1

A time to plug in and a time to unplug.