The Big 3: Three Hikes That Defined Our 2026 Travel Season

There are hikes you remember because the scenery was beautiful.

Then there are hikes you remember because at some point you looked around and thought, what in the hell did we get ourselves into?

2026 gave Hike & Dine three destinations that managed to give us a little bit of both.

El Yunque, in Puerto Rico. Sleeping Bear Dunes in Michigan. East Palisades and Amicalola Falls in Georgia.

• Three completely different environments. Three completely different challenges. Plenty of questionable moments, tired legs, snack breaks and stories that became funnier once everybody was safely back at the car. These weren't necessarily our longest hikes of the year either. That's actually what makes this story even better.

• Mileage doesn't always tell you what kind of day you're about to have.

• A 2.5-mile hike can take four hours.

• A trail that looks like a simple walk to a bamboo forest can turn into five unexpected miles through the woods as the sun starts going down.

• A concrete path can have you stopping to catch your breath before you even reach the 600 stairs you came there to climb.

We learned all of that firsthand.

These were The Big 3 of our 2026 adventure season.

La Coca Trail, El Yunque National Rainforest, Puerto Rico: The Ranger Thought She Could Warn Us

We knew what we were signing up for before we ever landed in Puerto Rico.

There was nothing in our planning that suggested the trail we chose in El Yunque National Forest was going to be easy or moderate. We researched it, prepared our hikers for it and came to Puerto Rico knowing this particular hike was supposed to challenge us.

Apparently, the park ranger wanted to make absolutely sure we understood that. Before we started, she tried very hard to deter us from doing this trail. She explained the difficulty. Then explained it some more. Every part of the conversation felt like another attempt to convince us that maybe this wasn't the trail for our group.

• We heard her.

• We respected the warning.

• We still knew what we had come there to do.

So off into El Yunque we went.

The full out-and-back would've been almost four miles. Under normal circumstances, that mileage wouldn't scare us at all. El Yunque quickly reminded us that mileage means absolutely nothing without context. The humidity was intense and there was very little wind moving through the rainforest. Almost immediately, the terrain started taking us down.

Not a cute little gradual downhill either.

We were descending strenuous rainforest terrain knowing that every bit of ground we were losing was ground we were eventually going to have to climb right back up.

That thought stays with you. Every downhill step comes with the realization.. "Oh… we have to come BACK UP this." We ultimately completed about 2.5 miles of the trail instead of continuing all the way to the river. We reached a waterfall around our halfway point and decided that was our destination for the day, and honestly Nobody was mad about it.

We got into the water, cooled ourselves down, ate snacks, hydrated and gave our bodies time to recover. After hiking through that humidity and terrain, sitting at a waterfall in the middle of El Yunque felt pretty damn good. We were in absolutely no rush to leave. Unfortunately, the park had a closing time and apparently they weren't going to be interested in letting Hike & Dine move into the rainforest for the day. Eventually, we had to get back up, and getting out of there was a completely different hike.

Everything we descended earlier now had to be climbed. There were sections where it felt like we were damn near on our hands and knees crawling our way back up. The humidity hadn't disappeared. The terrain hadn't gotten any friendlier. Our legs definitely knew we'd been out there for a while. We stopped. We regrouped. We caught our breath. Then we kept climbing. By the time we were done, we had spent around four hours hiking approximately 2.5 miles. For perspective, 2.5 miles back home could easily be finished in about an hour, maybe a little more depending on the group and terrain.

El Yunque said, not today.

That hike taught us one of the biggest lessons of our entire adventure season: never judge a hike by mileage alone.

Two and a half miles in a humid Puerto Rican rainforest can humble you very quickly.

We didn't reach the original endpoint.

We didn't need to.

We challenged ourselves, adjusted when the conditions called for it, enjoyed that waterfall, got everybody back out and walked away with one of our best trail stories of the year.

Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore, Michigan: Just Keep Climbing… Apparently

Back in our home state Michigan, Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore gave us a completely different challenge. Now, we didn't do the big dune climb everybody has probably seen all over social media. Instead, we took on one of Sleeping Bear's popular dune trails, and that trail wastes absolutely no time introducing itself. You arrive, look ahead and there's a huge sand hill waiting for you almost immediately.

Okay. Cool.

Let's climb it.

Then you reach the top and realize…

Oh. There's more.

A lot more.

The trail rolls through miles of massive sand dunes. You climb one, come down, climb another, come down again and continue repeating the process while Lake Michigan sits nearby looking beautiful and completely unconcerned about what your calves are going through. Hiking through sand is its own workout. Every step takes more effort because the ground moves underneath you. Add those rolling dunes and suddenly distances that wouldn't normally bother you start feeling very different.

We also had plenty of wind that day, which added another element to the experience. Thankfully, we had cloud cover because there is no shade out there.

None. You're hiking exposed along the Lake Michigan shoreline with sand and open sky around you. Had we been doing that same trail underneath strong direct sunlight, it would've been an entirely different experience. Even with the clouds, Sleeping Bear made us work.

The funny thing is that this one happened right here in Michigan.

We had already traveled to Puerto Rico about a week or two before and experienced the rainforest, and then our own state basically reminded us not to get too comfortable.

Michigan has challenges of its own.

Sleeping Bear wasn't tropical. There weren't rainforest waterfalls or thick forest surrounding us.

There was just sand.

So much sand.

...and another dune waiting after the one you just finished.

Georgia: We Had TWO Hikes to Survive

Georgia deserves its own category because apparently one demanding hike wasn't enough.

We got two.

The first one wasn't even supposed to go the way it did.

The Bamboo Forest That Wasn't Exactly “Right There”

East Palisades was supposed to take us to the bamboo forest. Simple enough. Except we started from the wrong side of the park if your goal was getting to the bamboo forest quickly and easily. By the time we realized exactly what we'd gotten ourselves into, we were already getting another Hike & Dine memory for the books.

The hike had considerably more elevation than we expected. We were moving through dense forest with very little airflow, navigating roots, rocks and stream crossings.

There were sections along literal cliff sides.

The elevation changes were enough that some of our ears were popping... and remember, we weren't necessarily mentally prepared for a major hike that evening because we thought we were basically going to see the bamboo forest.

Nope.

Georgia had other plans that we didn't consider.

Then came the part where things got a little more serious. The sun started setting.

We had started later in the evening because, again, we underestimated how much hiking we'd actually be doing. Now we needed to get the hell out of those woods.

Quickly.

Let's also acknowledge the very obvious thought running through our heads:

A group of Black people in the random woods of Georgia after dark?

Let's be serious.

Absolutely not.

The sightseeing portion of the evening was officially over. It was time to MOVE. The problem was that getting out wasn't suddenly easy just because we were in a hurry. We still had the elevation, rocks, roots, forest and terrain to navigate. Moving faster doesn't mean you can stop paying attention to where you're putting your feet. We kept pushing and managed to get ourselves out before the sun completely disappeared.

By the end of what was supposed to be our bamboo forest adventure, we had taken on at least five unexpected miles.

Lesson learned.

Also?

Great story now.

Not quite as funny while you're racing daylight through the woods.

Then Came Amicalola Falls

You would think East Palisades would've been enough excitement for one Georgia trip. The next major hike said otherwise.

Amicalola Falls State Park gave us a taste of the Appalachian Approach Trail, and it didn't take very long to understand what kind of day this was going to be. The elevation was elevating. The inclines were inclining real good (..or real bad, depending on who you ask.) We started through wooded sections with rocky and rooted terrain, climbing and adjusting to the elevation changes as we worked our way toward Amicalola Falls. Then eventually we reached concrete.

You might think:

"Oh good. Concrete. This should be easier."

Not necessarily.

That paved portion heading toward the falls still had some intense inclines. We took plenty of breaks. There was no shame in that either. Stop. Breathe. Drink some water. Get yourself together. Then keep moving, because the main event was still ahead.

600+ stairs. Set 1: 175 Stairs. Set 2: 425 Stairs. After we already encountered some stairs on the Appalachian Approach Trail.

Once we reached the falls, everybody had a decision to make. Some hikers chose not to continue beyond the bridge to the additional stairs, and that was completely fine. They had already put in work getting there. Others continued climbing, and strenuous is absolutely the correct word for it.

Those stairs demand endurance. You feel them in your legs. You feel the elevation. You take breaks because sometimes you genuinely need them. Then eventually you reach the top and get that moment where you can finally look around and appreciate exactly what you just accomplished.

Of course, getting to the top only solves half the problem.

You still have to get down.

Nobody Talks Enough About the Downhill

People love talking about climbing.

• How steep was it?

• How many stairs?

• How much elevation?

• How hard was the uphill?

What doesn't get nearly enough attention is how much concentration it takes to hike back down.

Yes, gravity is finally working with you. Your lungs may appreciate that. Your knees might have a different opinion. Going downhill through stairs, rocks, roots and uneven terrain requires focus. You're controlling your steps instead of simply letting yourself fall forward. You're watching where your feet land. You're dealing with tired legs that have already spent hours climbing. One wrong step can turn the end of a great hiking day into a very different situation.

So while we were definitely happy that much of our route back was downhill, that didn't mean the work was over. We still had to get everybody back safely.

Why These Became The Big 3

When we look back at these three adventures, the funniest part is how little mileage actually explains them.

• El Yunque: roughly 2.65 miles roundtrip and FOUR HOURS.

• Sleeping Bear Dunes: 3.9 miles roundtrip, of rolling sand dune after rolling sand dune with absolutely nowhere to hide from the elements.

• Georgia: an unexpected five-mile race against sunset at East Palisades, followed by Appalachian terrain and 600+ stairs at Amicalola.

You could look at some of those numbers on paper and think, That's not that bad.

You had to be there.

These hikes reminded us that difficulty isn't determined by mileage alone.

• Humidity matters.

• Elevation matters.

• Sand matters.

• Terrain matters.

• Weather matters.

• Daylight matters.

Sometimes the trail simply decides you're going to learn something that day.

The Part We're Most Proud Of

We can laugh about these adventures now because everybody made it through them. There were plenty of breaks. Plenty of tired legs. Plenty of moments where people had to slow down. Some hikers chose not to complete certain portions, and that's part of knowing your body too.

The accomplishment was never about everybody moving at the same speed or proving who could push the hardest. It was about taking on experiences that challenged us and looking out for one another while we did it. That's something Hike & Dine has stood on from the beginning:

We don't leave hikers behind.

Puerto Rico tested that.

Sleeping Bear tested that.

Georgia definitely tested that.

Every single time, we figured it out together.

Three Destinations We'll Be Talking About for a Long Time

There have been a lot of great moments in our 2026 adventure season, but these three earned their place in Hike & Dine history. El Yunque gave us the rainforest hike the ranger tried to talk us out of. Sleeping Bear Dunes gave us miles of rolling Michigan sand dunes. Georgia gave us an accidental race against sunset, a taste of the Appalachian Trail and 600+ stairs at Amicalola Falls.

None of them were easy.

None of them went exactly the same way.

It's honestly why they're so memorable.

We went into every one knowing we wanted something beyond our normal hiking experience. We definitely got it.

Puerto Rico. Sleeping Bear Dunes. Georgia.

The Big 3 of 2026.

If you were there for even one, you have a story to tell.

If you completed all three?

Go ahead and brag a little.

You earned that one.