Because nothing brings a group together like shared trauma… and soaked socks.
We’ve had some incredible hikes over the years, the kind that leave you breathless for all the right reasons. But we’ve also had our fair share of epic missteps, quite literally. And while we may not always get the distance, weather, or footwear right, we always come away with great stories. Here are three of our most memorable hiking fails, the kind we now laugh about at every family dinner.
Come hike down memory lane with us… and try not to trip.
👟 The One Where Adam Hiked 10 Miles in Slides
Everyone knows the golden rule of hiking: never wear brand-new shoes on a long trek. Everyone, apparently, except Adam.
For our six-day hike to Dingle, Adam showed up ready to conquer Ireland’s rugged coastlines, in gleaming, pristine white sneakers. They practically lit the trail like a pair of highlighter beacons. Day one went smoothly, aside from Adam’s repeated complaints about the mud threatening his footwear’s purity. And to be fair, the trail was a slippery, unavoidable mud-fest.
By days two and three, he’d moved from mild complaints to silent suffering, a noble limp his only tell. But by days four and five, all illusions of comfort were gone. His only moment of joy? A roadside encounter with a family of alpacas who, to be honest, looked like they shared a stylist with him.
On day six, Adam had reached his limit. His poor, muddy shoes were retired, and he arrived at the trailhead in his only remaining footwear: slides and socks. Ten miles of rocky coastline, grassy hills, and sandy stretches lay ahead and he did every single step in his makeshift hiking combo.
Cue a full day of grumbling, groaning, and dramatic monologues about soggy socks after he forgot to take them off during a beach walk.
Lesson learned. Adam’s hiking shoes are now well-worn, well-loved, and never left behind.
🧗 The One Where Quinn Fell Down the Mountain
Before we begin: you need to know that Quinn is a former gymnast. Athletic, agile, and balanced in ways the rest of us can only dream of. So naturally, we assumed she could handle the simplest part of our hike: the paved, flat section leading to Bridalveil Falls in Yosemite National Park.
Spoiler: she could not.
One moment, Quinn was walking ahead confidently. The next? She vanished. Literally. One wrong step and she slipped off the edge of the road and tumbled down a short, steep embankment.
The good news is that we’re all apparently really great in an emergency and so the whole group froze, horrified. Except for Daniel, who immediately leapt into action, scrambling down to find Quinn sitting, stunned, straddling a small tree halfway down the slope.
To her credit, she was mostly fine. A few scratches, a bruised ego, and a priceless story. She and her heroic rescuer climbed back up while the rest of us waited wide-eyed and mildly traumatized. Once we’d confirmed she was okay, the merciless teasing began and continues to this day.
Now, on every hike, Quinn is flanked by two overly alert, borderline paranoid group members who’ve made it their personal mission to ensure she stays upright and visible at all times.
🔥 The One Where Mandy Lost Her Temper
Mandy is our group’s usual voice of calm: level-headed, cheerful, and endlessly patient. But hiking in the Cinque Terre changed all that.
We’d set out early to beat the heat and hike from Monterosso to Vernazza, a short but steep trail with world-class views. Two miles, 90 minutes max. Easy, right?
Wrong.
The heat was oppressive, the trail was narrow, and the group’s whining started early:
“Why are we doing this?”
“Can’t we just take the train like normal people?”
“I’m hot.”
(They weren’t wrong, but still.)
After about 45 minutes of relentless complaining and zero appreciation for her well-planned itinerary, Mandy snapped. She stopped the group in their tracks, took a deep breath, and launched into a “gentle” monologue about effort, gratitude, and how this one thing was all she had asked for. Silence. Downcast eyes. Sweaty shame.
Until Adam, from the back of the group, chimed in with:
“Wow, Mom. Deep.”
Cue laughter. Tension gone. We made it to Vernazza in time for breakfast with no further complaining, where all five kids promptly fell asleep at the table, highlighting yet again that teenagers and early mornings don’t mix.
🧭 Moral of the Story?
Hiking is about the journey, not just the views and sometimes that journey involves slides, saplings, and emergency sock changes.
We wouldn’t trade these memories for anything (though Adam might trade the slides).
Go Together Life 
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