Summer Hike Reflection: When the Best Plan Is to Change the Plan

Europe has been in the grip of an intense heatwave over the past few weeks. Day after day, temperature records were broken, and the news seemed to be filled with just that. On the day of our Summer Hike, Switzerland recorded its hottest June temperature ever.

I must admit, I wasn't entirely sure whether we should go ahead or not.

Heat warnings had been issued across much of Europe, advising people to stay indoors and avoid strenuous activity. I found myself wondering whether organizing an outdoor hike was the responsible thing to do.

In the end, I decided not to cancel, but instead left it to each participant to make their decision for themselves and to listen to their own body.

Of the dozen people who had registered, about half decided to stay home, citing headaches, poor sleep, or simply feeling that the heat would be too much. I completely understood. I hadn't slept well myself all week.

Looking back, I think that was the first example of adaptability that made the day work. Rather than feeling obliged to stick to the original plan, everyone made the choice that was right for them.

The second came from our hike leader, Franziska.

Originally, we had planned to hike from Forch to Meilen and finish the afternoon with a swim in Lake Zurich. But as temperatures continued to climb, she suggested changing course. Instead of heading to what would almost certainly be an overcrowded lakeside beach, she proposed stopping at a Tobel—a shaded forest ravine with cool running water.

It turned out to be the perfect decision.

When we arrived, Franziska pointed to a small shaded area where the stream dropped, making a waterfall into a small pool. Without much discussion, she disappeared behind a few trees and re-emerged a few moments later in her swimsuit.

The rest of us looked at one another.

"Really? Here?"

This wasn't some hidden wilderness. We were literally still on the hiking trail, and people continued walking past with their dogs as if nothing unusual was happening.

But within minutes, each of us had found our own little nook among the trees to change. We started slowly and cautiously, first dipping in our feet, but before long we were sitting waist-deep in the refreshing cold water, some even immersing our heads completely. It wasn't a large swimming hole, but it didn't need to be. Sitting together in the cool, flowing water beneath a small waterfall felt unexpectedly luxurious—like nature's own little spa.

It was one of those moments that could never have been planned.

A Tobel is a Swiss-German term for a ravine or gorge, typically carved out by a stream or river. The one we dipped in was not as wide and multi-layered as this one (Küsnachter Tobel) pictured here. But you get the idea?

The conversations throughout the day were equally natural.

One of my hopes for Analog Connection is that it can offer women of different generations and life stages an opportunity to spend time together. It's easy to remain within circles of people who are similar and familiar to ourselves, but I've often found some of the richest conversations happen across those differences.

Our small group reflected that beautifully. Some of us had known each other for years, while others were joining an Analog Connection gathering for the first time. We spoke about work, career changes, moving to Switzerland, finding a place to live, relationships, parenthood, and preparing to welcome a first child.

There was no agenda and no structured activity. Looking back, I realized they weren't needed. Once we started walking, the conversations simply found their own rhythm.

The third example of adaptability came from everyone in the group.

No one questioned the change of plans. No one complained that we weren't going to the lake as originally planned. Everyone embraced the unexpected swimming spot, slowed down when needed, laughed about the heat, and simply enjoyed being together.

When I got home, the first thing my husband said was, "Did you know that of all days, you ended up hiking on the hottest June day in Swiss history?"

I laughed and replied, "Well, at least we'll never forget what we did that day!"

What could easily have become an exhausting day became one I'll remember with great fondness.

Perhaps because it reminded me that the best experiences don't always come from following the original plan. Sometimes they come from trusting one another, adapting to what the day brings, and leaving just enough room for the unexpected.