I’ve always been a walker. From the windy bike trails in Eaglewood Subdivision to the alleyways in Seward, Alaska; the cobblestone streets of Vicenza, Italy to the sandy roads in Iraq; the marble streets of Dubrovnik, Croatia to the week long earth path on the Annapurna Trek in Nepal; the Capitol Lake loop trail in Olympia, Washington to the dirt road at nighttime that leads to my homestead. I receive more benefits from walking than almost anything else that I do.

Sometimes I walk fast and use walking sticks to get my heart-rate up and feel like I worked out, completely forgetting about the natural landscape surrounding me, the long to-do list awaiting at home, the percolating stories, financial dreams, and spiritual endeavors. I walk to workout. Other times I walk slowly, meditating on each step to feel my body in ways I typically forget to. I often admire my surroundings while walking, observing the changes in colors, seasons, animals, and sounds. I walk and wave at neighbors whose names I do not know, at least a dozen of those neighbors have come and gone since I started walking here. People who come to pursue the off-grid Alaskan farm dream, fulfill it in whatever form they choose, and leave. I keep walking.

Other times, I walk because I need a break. Overwhelmed by sounds, beckons, demands, chores, responsibilities- I go outside to enjoy the peace and quiet while utilizing bilateral movement to put me into a hypnotic rhythm. As an author, much of my writing is done while on walks without even thinking about it. Suddenly something will pop up in my head and I’ll whisper, “That’s it.” And I will apply it to the page the next day. The same thing happens with almost every facet of my life.

I enjoy walking beside somebody talking about life’s complexities much more than I enjoy sitting across from them doing the same thing. Doing something together that does not involve strenuous labor and does not contain an end goal allows the spontaneity of conversation to flow in mysterious directions which tap into hidden places of the heart. I enjoy sharing my love of walking with my family, with the hope that my kids will grow up to love walking on God’s beautiful earth and work hard to nurture and protect it.

I would rather take a walk anywhere, hand-in-hand with my sweetheart, than do almost anything else.

And while I enjoy walking with others, I enjoy walking alone even more, especially at night. I moved into my current home back in 2012, and when some of the old-timers noticed that I was taking night-walks they warned me of the wildlife. I heeded to their warnings, thanked them for the advice, and kept walking. I always have a headlamp or another light to turn on if I sense another life form. The silhouette of a bull moose in the road, distant lights approaching from a vehicle, the howl of distant wolves, the smell of a bear nearby, the form of a horned owl in a treetop. I turn the light on when I need to see more clearly or warn someone of my presence. And I carry a pistol, just in case.

With the demands of my four kids, my walks are shorter now than they used to be. I set a timer for 10 minutes, that’s my turn around point. I try to get one walk in during the light and another after the kids are in bed, but if I have to choose one, I choose the night walk every time.

I hope to see you out there some night or day walking the same paths that I do.

Until then,
Robert Stark

P.S. Walk over to our website at SecretGardenAlaska.org to read some more words written while taking long walks.