Austin Hikes and the Trials of a Fledgling Trailgoer

The Greenbelt trail opens up to a rocky basin, where we watched the sun begin to set about three-quarters of the way into the trail. (photos by Joelle DiPaolo)

Despite regular bouts with insomnia, it’s safe to say I don’t get out much. At any given time, I’m likely at my desk under my lofted bed with a toast-shaped night light keeping me company, or if I’m really shaking it up, on top of my bed watching reality TV.

Much to my disappointment, my therapist suggested I go outside to help me sleep better. So, perhaps because of sleep deprivation, or sheer insanity, I pitched an indoor person’s guide to Austin hikes. The conversation went like this:

Editor: “Do you hike?”
Me: “No”
Editor: “Okay, great, go do it. And take pictures if you fall.”
[Editor’s note: That’s exactly how it went.]

With these words of encouragement, I set out with exactly no plans, maps, equipment, or experience. Here are some lessons I learned the hard way out on the trail.

“Boston” and I followed “Austin” and my friend’s lead across the side of a rock face. This was part of our “pre-hike” before the actual Bull Creek trail.

Hike #1: Bull Creek Park

For my first hike, I was bright-eyed and ready to go. I drove into the parking lot near the trail expecting to be greeted by singing deer and birds à la Snow White only to find … a group of elderly people doing Tai Chi? Ten minutes of circling did reveal a hidden trailhead, so I eventually had the brilliant idea to ask two middle-aged men to lead us into the woods. They had hiking gear, so what could go wrong? The first member of the duo, an Austin local, led us over rocks, tree branches, and the side of a cliff while his Bostonian friend said “this doesn’t look right” over and over. Point goes to Boston, because the “hike” followed no prescribed trail. We parted ways at the creek, where my friend and I found ourselves literally up a creek without a paddle. Or trailhead. By the time we actually found the (considerably obvious) trailhead, my friend fell into the creek, my shoe was covered in mud, and we couldn’t stop laughing at our stupidity.

Lesson: Do not follow strangers into the woods.

Hike #2: St. Edwards Park

The parking lot led straight to the trailhead this time, which was the beginning and end of our luck. After the infamous ice storm the week before, we relished the sun, open fields and ... tree branches blocking the trail? Despite mother nature telling us to back off, we dove headfirst into the branches anyway. After that point, we did not see another soul on the trail. Wonder why. Over the course of an hour, we maneuvered around at least 20 huge tree branches. At the end of the day, though, we emerged relatively unscathed after enjoying a beautiful (and silent) trail.

Lesson: Don’t go hiking after our yearly Texas freeze.

Hike #3: Greenbelt

I felt untouchable. Invincible. Like a master hiker. Hell, if I could defeat the branches, I could do anything. However, Google Maps made quick work of my hubris when I once again struggled to find the trail. The GPS fiasco added 30 minutes to our start time, so we ended up setting out around 5pm. Given the early sunsets of February, you can probably guess the sun almost finished setting as we made our way back to the entrance. Luckily, despite a wrong turn near the end, we made it back before we had to start using our phone flashlights.

Lesson: Do not go hiking after dark.

Hike #4: Greenbelt (Three Falls Hike)

Surprisingly, my stellar success with the Greenbelt did not deter me from trying a different hike along the belt. After nearly a month of having difficulties with navigation, my hiking-aficionado friend finally looked for the trailhead on their phone before I even put my foot on the gas so we waltzed right into the trail. With the many delights the scenery offered, we did lose the trail on the way back and ended up walking straight through the woods towards the sound of people. I’m not saying a breadcrumb trail would’ve helped, but maybe Hansel had the right idea.

Lesson: Pay attention to where you’re going!

The homestead trail peels off of the McKinney Falls. To get to the trail, we first had to traverse the small ravines in the rocks.

Hike #5: McKinney Falls

Despite the trail’s relative flatness, a few rocks threatened to trip me. I typically treat every walk like a race, so my roped-into-hiking partner of the day and I passed at least three groups of hikers. Near the end, we could hear people coming up behind us, so propelled by my social anxiety and competitive nature, we sped up to avoid them. That being said, I ended up completely out of breath by the time we made it back out to McKinney Falls despite this being one of the easier trails.

Lesson: Take some time to smell the roses.

After taking the “challenge” version of the route uphill, this outlook marked the end of the Rough Hollow Lakeside Trail before heading back down. By this point, I looked forward to the rest of the (mostly downhill) trail.

Hike #6: Rough Hollow Lakeside Trail

After a couple weeks off for spring break, the (now 20 degrees warmer) trails called to me. A few failed and a few successful attempts into this experiment, I knew now to look at reviews beforehand and found the closest parking lot was 0.3 miles away. How bad can that be? This trail itself challenged me more than most of the other trails, with steep inclines, rocks, and a “challenge” path option. We made it out alive, panting, after a good hour-and-a-half hike, only to realize we had to walk for three-tenths of a mile straight uphill back to my car, which I'm tempted to leave an AllTrails review for as a bonus hike. After this harrowing journey, we naturally made a beeline to Whataburger. As I ate my chicken tenders, I felt satisfied I completed such a long trail with relatively no hiccups (and no sunburn!)

Lesson: What goes down must come up.

Ultimately, I have to say those nature junkies might be on to something. I loved getting to see more of Austin, going outside, and building better bonds with friends (whether they feel the same has yet to be seen). I probably won’t go on a hike every weekend anymore (let’s not get too ahead of ourselves now), but I’m proud to say that now I’ll emerge from my bed-cave every once in a while to hit the trails.