Hiking Changed the Way I Appreciate Food

Nothing hits quite like a post-hike feed. Josh explores how endorphin-charged sweat can turn a dehydrated dahl or servo sandwich into gourmet dining.

I’d just spent a week in Seoul, eating my way through its deliciously chaotic streets. Pork belly and beef brisket at smoky BBQ joints, crispy fried chicken that crackled with each bite, bulgogi (sweet, savoury marinated beef) that lingered on the tongue. Food vendors fed me kebabs, dumplings, and tteokbokki (stir-fried rice cake), dripping with sauce and spice. I was living large, justifying this decadent chow as fuel for my mountain hikes around the city.

Read more: Korea Dulle Trail – Exploring 4,500km Around an Entire Country

Salivating already? Check out Lipei’s recipe to make braised pork belly in the outdoors! | @lipeiteoh

Seoul was a feast for the senses, my days spent shoulder-to-shoulder at fragrant foodie villages and buzzy night markets. After riding the bumps of this relentless pace, I craved some calm. I sought refuge at JustBe Temple, a Buddhist retreat tucked away in the city’s Seodaemun district.

At the complimentary breakfast, I loaded my tray with an assortment of distinctly beige dishes and settled into the quiet basement cafeteria. Stirring my bean sprout soup, I took a sip and immediately returned my spoon to the bowl, mindful not to wince. It was indescribably bland. This ovo-lacto vegetarian spread was far from the throat-tingling flavours that filled the streets above me.

The pull of a neighbourhood bakery was almost too much to resist. But instead of rushing upstairs and diving mouth-first into a red bean streusel, I sat in the moment. After all, this was a place of reflection. Considering all the questionable hiking meals I’d eaten over my life, this couldn’t be so bad.

Having a great view to absorb at the same time always helps too

A month earlier, trekking south on WA’s Cape to Cape Track, I found myself rehydrating a pouch of expired Nasi Goreng beneath Boranup Karri Forest’s peppermint gum canopy, trading stories with backpacker Paul. He shared his stint as a waiter at a French ski resort whose aristocratic clientele would regularly blow €100,000 on a meal and never seem happy. Yet, there we were, laughing over our freeze-dried dinners, slapping away mosquitos, and grinning like we’d devoured a royal feast.

Six years earlier, on my first long-distance hike along the Heysen Trail, I experienced a deep, almost primal hunger I hadn’t known possible. Not the regulation six o’clock pangs, but a bottomless, gut-punching appetite – the kind that comes after walking 133km with 23kg on your back.

For years, I’d dined on a fixed schedule – when I woke, at lunch, and at dinner. I never waited to feel hungry, like I needed to eat. When I reached the Hawker Hotel Motel at the edge of the Outback after five days, my cravings had super-sized. That night, I devoured the tastiest parmy of my life.

When you’re out here, predetermined eating schedules are much harder to maintain, often they don’t even make sense

Hiking is naturally reflective and restorative, recycling physical effort into mental clarity. Each step creates a steady rhythm, a repetitive meditation that resets the mind and sharpens your awareness. Over time, modern life’s fundamentals stand out – things like decent plumbing, a comfy bed and a nourishing meal – and you learn to appreciate them in ways you never did before.

Read more: Why I’m Trying to Walk More Slowly

Back in the temple, I scanned the cafeteria for inspiration, trying to be more mindful and channel my inner hiker. My eyes landed on a passage from Planting Seeds: Practicing Mindfulness with Children scribbled across the whiteboard. One affirmation stood out:

‘We want to chew the food slowly so that we can enjoy it.’

With these grounding words, I picked up my spoon and returned to the soup. This time, making a conscious effort to chew every chew.

The bean sprouts crunched between my back teeth, their brittle texture contrasting the smooth broth. I focused on the movement of my jaw, the force of each bite, and the subtle flavours that emerged when I gave them space.

Sure, I knew it wasn’t gourmet, but it felt like it was enough – more than enough. I moved on to the braised walnuts with a renewed sense of gratitude. Predictably, they were delicious.

Give your food as much attention as you give the map and you’ll be surprised how much better it tastes

Flavour in food, as in life, is what we make it. It’s a simple truth, but one I might’ve missed if hiking hadn’t taught me to stay present. Trail life forces you to slow down and find worth in everything. In doing so, you discover untapped appreciation – not just for the grub that motivates your steps, but the effort it takes to create it, and the adventures it fuels.

Before long, a hastily assembled peanut butter wrap becomes a feast, and every mouthful is worth savouring.

Food to Appreciate on Your Next Hike

• How To Cook The Ultimate Campfire Roast
• The Best Hiking Meals (According to the We Are Explorers Community)
• Hiking Meals Comparison: Pre-Cooked, Dehydrated & Freeze Dried
• Radix Nutrition Breakfast and Protein Powder – Reviewed & Tested