18th June 2025

Why We Walk Slower in Winter

A trail-season reflection on stillness, warmth, and walking with intention.

The Trail Gets Quieter Now

There’s something about June that calls us inward.

As the temperatures dip and the light shifts, the pace of life begins to change — whether we let it or not. The trail gets quieter. Mornings arrive misty and slow. The usual rush of the world softens just enough for us to notice what we’ve been missing.

Winter, for many, feels like a season to endure. But what if it’s a season to savour?

At The Hike Collective, we believe every season holds its own kind of magic. And winter — with all its quiet trails, breath-fogged mornings, and post-walk rituals — might just be the one we need most.

This is a story about slowness. About what changes when we stop trying to outrun the cold — and choose to walk with it instead.

The Season Shift We Often Miss

It always happens quietly.
The mornings begin a little darker. The air carries a sharper edge. Leaves dampen with dew, and the trails — once dry and dusty — begin to breathe again.

Winter doesn’t arrive with a bang. It arrives with a hush.

And in that hush, something within us slows down too.

We’ve guided thousands of hikes across the sun-drenched landscapes of Western Australia. We know the high of summer trail energy — when boots are quick, conversations are lively, and the goal is often to summit, to sweat, to achieve.

But in winter, the trails ask something different of us. They don’t demand your best pace.
They ask for your full presence.

The Myth of ‘Slowing Down’

In a culture that idolises momentum, slowness is often misunderstood.
We’re told to keep moving, keep striving, keep achieving. Even our downtime is often about optimisation — 10k steps, heart rate zones, fitness goals.

But walking in winter teaches us that rest is not the absence of effort.
It’s the presence of awareness.

On a trail near Mundaring last June, one of our hikers paused mid-step. Not from exhaustion, but awe. A soft rain was falling — barely audible — and the trees shimmered under its touch.

“Everything feels louder when you’re not rushing,” she whispered.

That’s the paradox of winter walking: the slower you go, the more you notice.
And the more you notice, the more alive you feel.

Why Winter Hiking is More Than Just a Scenic Change

We often hear:
“I’m not a winter hiker.”
“It’s too cold.”
“I’ll wait until spring.”

But ask anyone who’s walked with us during the colder months and they’ll tell you — winter isn’t just a season. It’s a state of mind.

Let’s break a few myths.

Myth 1: The trails are miserable in winter
In reality, trails near Perth — like John Forrest National Park or the lush valleys of Serpentine — come alive after rain. Waterfalls flow. Wildlife stirs. And the scent of damp earth and eucalyptus is soul medicine.

Myth 2: It’s too cold to enjoy
The body adapts. With the right layering (and perhaps a thermos of chai in your pack), winter walking becomes a ritual of warmth — inside and out. We’ve had hikers tell us they’ve never felt more “held by the weather.”

Myth 3: Winter hikes are dangerous or dull
We curate our winter guided hikes with safety and sensory experience at the forefront. Our routes are selected for accessibility, beauty, and their ability to evoke calm. They’re not about proving something. They’re about feeling something.

The Emotional Landscape of a Winter Trail

Here’s what happens when you walk a trail in winter in Perth. You start with a shiver — a bracing breath as your body acclimates to the chill.
Your senses sharpen. You become aware of the crunch beneath your boots, the steam from your breath, the way your hands wrap instinctively around your morning coffee that you stopped in to grab on your drive from the local cafe.

And then, you settle. The group’s chatter softens. Footsteps find rhythm. There’s something about cold air that invites inwardness — not isolation, but a gentle, shared introspection.

As one hiker recently put it,

“Summer hikes energise me. But winter ones anchor me.”

There’s a groundedness that winter walking offers — the kind you can’t rush to find.
You have to walk slowly enough for it to catch up to you.

Rituals We Love: Walking With Warmth

If summer hiking is about freedom, winter is about ritual.

We’ve watched a beautiful culture of intentionality form within our community during the colder months. Tiny, tender moments that warm more than just the body:

• The pre-walk pause. Wrapping a scarf with care. Sipping tea before stepping out.

• The thermos ritual. A shared cup of something warm mid-walk — always savoured, never rushed.

• The post-trail glow. Red cheeks. Cold hands. That euphoric, cosy exhaustion that only winter walking gives.

It’s these small rituals that make our winter hikes feel like ceremonies.
Not grand or loud — but sacred in their simplicity.

We’re big believers in these rituals, and we build space for them into our winter walk experiences. Because hiking, to us, isn’t just physical. It’s emotional, seasonal, and spiritual.

What We’ve Learned From Guiding Winter Hikes

Here’s the quiet truth:
Winter teaches what summer often can’t.

It teaches patience.
It teaches softness.
It teaches us that productivity doesn’t always lead to peace — but presence does.

We’ve seen hikers arrive tense, shoulders hunched, hearts heavy — and leave with less on their minds and more in their lungs.

We’ve watched strangers share a flask of tea on a wet log, speak fewer words, but feel more connected.

And time and again, we’ve been reminded:

The trail doesn’t always offer answers. Sometimes it offers something better — room to ask the right questions.

 Your Invitation to Walk With Us

This winter, we’re not offering you a challenge.
We’re offering you a pause.

A moment to recalibrate.
A season to walk for warmth, not speed.
A reason to step into the wild — not to escape the cold, but to meet it.

Whether you’re exploring the Perth Hills, breathing in the green hush of Serpentine, or finding fog-draped beauty in the trails around Kalamunda — we’ve curated a winter hike calendar designed for presence, peace, and deep connection.

These aren’t just walks.
They’re seasonal soul shifts.

Final Thoughts: Slowness as Strength

Maybe you’re reading this curled under a blanket, tea in hand. Maybe you’re bracing for a busy week, unsure how to make time for stillness. Maybe the idea of walking in the cold feels strange — even uninviting.

But consider this:
The natural world doesn’t hustle all year round.
It honours seasons.

Trees don’t bloom in winter — they rest.
Birdsong doesn’t shout — it softens.
And the trail… the trail becomes quieter, but never less alive.

We invite you to walk it — slowly, mindfully, warmly.
Not because you have to.
But because, maybe, this season is inviting you to pause.

Ready to Step Into Stillness?

Our winter hikes are running weekly from June through August across Perth’s most beautiful trail networks. Guided by our expert team, you’ll explore nature with presence, purpose, and permission to go slow.