hiker sitting at a mountain pass, morning sunrise

One of my favorite routines in the mountains is simple: wake before dawn, hike a few hours to my first objective (usually a pass, peak, lake, or valley crossing) and sit with a cup of coffee while the sun comes up.

Those first hours of the day, anchored by movement and reward, give me a predictable foothold before the unknown sets in. I know the trail ahead will present challenges: steep grades, fatigue, weather, and decisions that will test me both physically and mentally. But if the morning begins grounded, I’ve crafted a reset button, allowing me to start my day on my terms.

The backcountry is full of uncertainty. Storms, hard-to-follow routes, the limits of my own body and energy levels. Left unchecked, this uncertainty taxes my mind and increases the chance of making poor choices. But my routine (wake, walk, brew, sit) cuts through that noise. It provides order when everything else seems open to negotiation between me and nature (especially when I don’t get much say).

Behavioral psychology points to why this matters: predictable rituals reduce decision fatigue, regulate attention, and calm the nervous system. I don’t have to debate what to do with my first hours because my sequence is the same almost every day, and my brain comes to trust it. That frees up energy for the unexpected challenges later on.

Science only reinforces what I feel in practice. A hard climb before breakfast ramps metabolism and primes the nervous system for endurance. Dawn light calibrates circadian rhythm, syncing body and mind. Coffee synergizes with the morning cortisol peak to sharpen focus. The result is clarity and steadiness, both in the moment and as the day unfolds.

The bigger impact seems more psychological to me. By starting the day with a controlled, predictable rhythm, I establish a sort of baseline. Then, when difficulty inevitably shows up as fatigue, routefinding drama, or weather stress, I’ve already given my brain a structured reference point. I know what calm feels like, and because that calm happened recently (that morning), it makes it easier to return to.

Above: My first pass of the day, August 4, 2025.