Where’s Our Hiker Badge of Honour?

So there I was - one of those dark-o’clock mornings, garage cappuccino purchased (obviously, I’m not a savage) - driving behind a 4x4 with a bike rack.

And not just any rack. Oh no. The kind with actual bikes on it. You know the type - shiny, aerodynamic, probably worth more than my entire car - practically shouting, “LOOK AT ME, I HAVE A LIFE AND IT INVOLVES CARDIO!”

And of course, it got me thinking (because why wouldn’t I turn a random drive into a philosophical moment?): anyone with a real skill or hobby tends to earn a little respect, right?

The biker with the rack.

The surfer with the roof straps.

The kayaker with, well, an actual kayak on top of their car.

These people wear their lifestyle like a bumper sticker for discipline, dedication, and just enough self-inflicted pain to be impressive.

The Quiet Dignity (and Frustration) of Hikers

But we hikers? What do we get? No visible proof of our weekend warrior status. No shiny rack.

We can’t exactly hang a pair of dusty boots off the bonnet (well, we could - but it sends more “serial killer” than “outdoor enthusiast”).

Hiking poles strapped to the roof? Also a bit “I lost my mind in the mountains” energy.

Honestly, short of driving around in mud-caked hiking shoes or keeping your car permanently full of trail dust, there’s not much that screams “I voluntarily climb mountains for fun.”

We show up to brunch, hair wild, face red sweat pouring down (oh, is that just me?) - and somehow people don’t look at us with the same admiration they reserve for the mountain biker with his neon spandex. Rude.

We commit just as much - early alarms, we trade brunch for blisters and still show up smiling.

Yet, somehow, no one’s giving us the nod of respect reserved for people with gear visibly attached to their vehicles.

Where’s our street cred? Our subtle “I hike, therefore I am”?

Maybe It’s Time We Got Our Rack

Maybe we need a “Hiker Rack.” Some way to let the world know we too are out there suffering gloriously for our hobbies.

A tiny model mountain glued to the roof of the car?

Too much? (No such thing.)

Anyway, we might not wear our hobby on our cars—but we wear it in our grit.

And really, that’s way more authentic than a shiny bike rack anyway.